Just cut ties.

This contributor wishes to remain anonymous. Here is her story:

I found your blog this morning when I was looking for resources on how to break ties with a "toxic" parent. Thank you for providing a healing place to so many. I wanted to just get this off my chest and talk to someone about it. My grandparents are from a completely different era and don't agree with my decision.

My father raised me, so I was Daddy's Little Girl. He did wonderful things for me, like took me around the world, took me out to a restaurant every Friday night, and built me the best dollhouse ever (it had carpet and electricity!!!). However, he also used to hit me (splitting my lip once, bruising me a couple of times, and leaving welts regularly), call me names (he called me a bitch last year when I brought him a pet for his birthday, stupidly thinking it would patch up our relationship), and threaten to leave me on roadsides many, many times, even while on vacation 600 miles from home. Last winter, he screamed at me in a public cafe for dropping my cell phone (which I paid $20 for - it wasn't an iPhone or anything). I was as humiliated for him as I was for myself.

When I moved out ten years ago, we grew more distant and I'm convinced he's developed Narcissistic Personality Disorder. He contacts me by phone once every two or three months and has replaced me with 2,000 Facebook friends. Conversations increasingly became more about him, and he no longer asks how I'm doing; I have to volunteer it. When I smile and say, "Hey, I really like my new job, by the way (I recently received a great promotion that is providing me with some direction in life, so I'm very excited)," he says, "Oh. Am I supposed to ask you how you're doing?" He bought me an iPad for my birthday last year and I sent him a quick email from my graduate class last fall telling him how much I loved it -- I was using it at that minute to take notes, and it was working perfectly. He wrote back, "If I had known that's all you were going to use it for, I woudn't have bought it for you. It was a waste of my money." He is a genius at twisting my gratitude into guilt.

He had a heart attack a few weeks ago and when I called him to say hi and check on his health, it ended horribly. I told him I loved him and he said sarcastically, "Yeah, it really shows." I flipped out. I wrote him a letter last night that told him I recognize all he's done for me, but like anyone else, he has to earn the respect of others; it is not owed to him just because he's my dad. I closed it by saying "It hurts me to do this, but I cannot be in contact with someone who emotionally and verbally abuses me so often that it affects how I work, how I interact with my pet, my boyfriend, my friends, etc." I've lost a lot of sleep over it, too, so I guess it affects my health as well, though that seems like a stretch. He's very depressed, lonely, and not doing well financially, plus he's a functional alcoholic (his drink of choice is Scotch Whiskey) and I've tried to be sensitive to these things, but our relationship is beginning to affect other happier areas of my life now.

I am unsure if I did the right thing -- after all, he's my dad and I was his little girl -- but it's the first time I've stood up for myself. I hope it'll earn his respect and he'll see beyond the self-absorbed fog that hovers around him. I dunno.

It's tough stuff. I know parents are only human too, but they should, at the very least, act like adults.

Realizing that I'm not alone...

From a reader who wishes to remain anonymous:

I've been reading your blog and am in tears because I'm realizing that I'm not alone.

I'm in my late twenties and still unemployed, but I hope to be in a situation where I can pull away from financial dependency on my father.  I've been going back into my childhood and realizing that all my sister and I went through was abuse: physical, verbal and emotional.  If we ever did something wrong, my dad (and sometimes, my mom) would beat us.  Unfortunately I live in a country where corporal punishment is still seen as acceptable discipline for children.  At least, it was for my mom.  I remember the first time I realized it was Not Okay when I was eleven: I was watching television, and my dad - without a word - turned it off.  When I protested, he dragged me into his bedroom and beat me with a clothes hanger and all the while I was screaming, I knew I hadn't done anything wrong.  My mom and sister had gone out and to this day I still haven't told them about it.  He didn't stop hitting me until four years ago, when I hit him back for the first time.  He gave the silent treatment and acted like the victim for two whole weeks, until *I* had to be the one to apologize.  Aside from the physical abuse, he's horribly verbally abuse: he shouts and complains about every single thing, calls us 'sloppy,' has told us to our faces that he'd be happier if he could get away from us.  And since he's the source of income for the family, if we argue back with him, he cuts things off: he cuts off food, he cuts off paying the bills.  Worst of all, he's a completely different person to all his friends and business associates.  "Oh, your father is so wonderful! He helped to pay for my son's tuition fees when I was broke! He's done so much for our company!" He acts like such a pleasant person, and then when he's at home, he unleashes his rage at us.

I know my situation, that it's not okay.  I've repeatedly told my mom and sister that as soon as I can take care of myself, I'm breaking off contact with him.  And every time I do, I've been told "But the Bible said..." and "He's your father...." and "Please forgive him."  Reading your blog, I now know that it's all bullshit.  Yes, people deserve a second chance and so does he.  But he doesn't get a second chance with me.  It shouldn't be a tragedy that I'm planning on cutting him out of my life.  The tragedy should be that he is such a horrible father and husband that he's forever ruined any chance of reconciliation between us.  If my mother and sister want to keep a relationship with him, more power to them.  But as for me, I am done and am praying for a job that will eventually let me break free and get away.

Thank you for the blog.  It's really put some things in perspective, and I hope that I can attain some measure of peace in my life, like everyone who's emailed in.

Not Well Adjusted: The Day It Ended

The author of this post has started a new blog, Not Well Adjusted, and has given permission to re-post this entry here. Go read her blog to find out more about her childhood and why she decided to become free of her mother.

I cut ties with my mother when my son was 2 weeks old.  I couldn't take her constant judging, harassing, and demands anymore.

The beginning of the end started when my son was born.  The plan was that my mother, who lives 12 hours away, would drive down after he was born to see us and meet him.  His due date was great for her, because she would be finished with her volunteer work.  Instead, he came a few weeks early.  She said we'd have to wait 2 weeks before she could come.  This sort of worked out well for us.  Everything is HER way or NO way and she will make your life hell if you don't comply.  The two weeks would help us establish a routine and such.

 Two weeks rolled around.  We found out my husband would have to leave for a week long business trip.  Then my mother called and said my dad was also going to be out of town so she couldn't come visit.  I guess it's too much effort to board a dog and ask a friend to check up on other farm animals so she could come meet her FIRST grandson.  Instead, she offered to send a friend in her place.  UMMMM NO!  I'm not playing hostess to a semi stranger two weeks postpartum.

The next day I took my son in for his two week check up.  Two things were going on.  He was forcefully vomiting after each nursing/bottle session.  On top of that we were supplementing formula because I wasn't producing enough milk.  45 minutes of pumping produced 2-3 ounces collectively first thing in the morning.  I knew my supply was slowly dwindling and asked to do a weighed feeding.  Lactose Intolerance was also suggested
After the appointment, I called my mother and told her how it went.  I hadn't told her about the two issues.


Cue Explosion!


"THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOUR CHILD.  ALL BABIES SPIT UP A LITTLE.  YOUR BOOBS ARE PERFECTLY FINE. STICK ONE IN HIS MOUTH AND FEED YOUR KID.  YOU ARE MAKING HIM SICK MY GIVING HIM FORMULA.  MIXING FORMULA WITH BREASTMILK IS THE WORST THING YOU COULD EVER DO FOR A BABY.  HOW CAN YOU SAY YOU KNOW WHAT'S BEST FOR YOU KID?  YOU'VE ONLY BE A PARENT FOR 20 MINUTES."

All of the above started flying at me through the phone.  Remember, she's never even met him or seen the amount of vomit coming out of him.  The last two weeks had already been filled with her judgments about everything from where he was sleeping and how many times we'd left the house.  SHE was stressing me out and that isn't helping for milk supply either.

The straw that broke the camel's back?

"THAT BABY IS NOT A TOY!  CLOSE YOUR MOUTH, GROW UP, AND TAKE CARE OF YOU KID!"

I hung up the phone and haven't exchanged a word with her since.  That was over two years ago and you know what, I've never been happier.  This was a long time coming and I'm so glad it finally happened. 

"She was my mother once..."

My earliest memories are of trying to placate my mother. By the time I
was four, I was able to predict her mood swings with great accuracy,
and to this day if I can't predict someone's actions within minutes of
meeting them I am deeply afraid of them. My parents divorced when I
was five. My mother almost didn't fight for custody, but her family
told her to, so for years she lied to and manipulated everyone she
could. She would make up very convincing stories and truly believe
they had happened. She even convinced the guardian ad litem that she
was the best parent. Finally my dad won custody when it turned out
she'd been lying to her lawyer about a lot of things. I am grateful
for that every day. It was still very, very unusual for the father to
get custody - it still is, which is shameful. If I'd been given to her
I doubt I would be alive now.

During the divorce she tried to convince me and my brother that our
dad was evil. She would tell us that there was a black hole in his
living room that would eat us up, or that monsters lived under the
beds in his apartment. I just wanted to make everyone happy so that no
one would be angry at me. I tried to hate my dad for her, but when I
couldn't, I finally went to her and apologized for still loving him. I
only realized how horrible that is very recently. It just seemed like
a normal and natural thing to do at the time. Her words worked on my
brother, and he learned to hate Dad.

She moved out of state after the divorce, and we would visit her every
summer. She would dress me up and use me to impress her friends with
how cute and polite I was. I was the golden child who could do no
wrong. When I was 11 she moved back and wanted to see us more. I was
miserable. She hadn't changed at all, she just wanted to use me for
social status and labor. I decided to stop visiting her when I was 12.
She never asked for me when she kept picking up my brother for his
visits.

I went to court when I was 16 to remove her parental rights. She
didn't fight it, but she did send me a bunch of baby pictures. She had
taken all of them in the divorce. I was grateful - she was trying to
manipulate me, but those pictures were a precious gift. The court
removed her parental rights when I was 17. I was terrified in that
court room, making my case to the judge alongside my dad and attorney.
I was terrified that I'd see her, that she'd show up and charm and lie
her way out of it. I could barely walk out I was shaking so hard.

This year, I'm 25. My mother just died of cancer. I've had to comfort
my brother as best I can. I still don't know how I feel about it - her
boyfriend kept sending messages urging me to reconcile with her, but I
think that I have. I don't hate her anymore. I'm not angry with her
for all the damage she did to me. I'm not glad she's dead. It's just a
thing that is true: she was my mother once, and she was a terrible
person, and now she's dead.

"Children are supposed to be loved and protected..."

My father was a molester. My very earliest memory is of being raped. I was probably only two years old. When I was 5 he put a gun to my head and said that if I ever told anyone he would kill my grandparents and make me watch. He knew that they were my favorite people in the whole world, so that's why he said that. He knew it would keep my mouth shut.

When I was ten years old my periods started. I was terrified that I would wind up pregnant. I remember there being a news story about a 10 year old having a baby after being raped. It was really big news at the time, so I was scared out of my mind.

I had made a really good friend at school. We moved a lot, so I never really had friends before, but this girl was different. Sarah was so kind and warm and genuine. I was actually allowed to go to a sleepover at her house. I had never been allowed to do that before. Life in her house was so different than anything I had ever known. When they took me home her dad seemed agitated and nervous. I thought he didn't like me and couldn't wait to get rid of me. It turns out he had a bad feeling and didn't want to let me out of their car. He told Sarah that he felt like something bad was going to happen to me. Of course I didn't know that until this Spring, twenty years after the fact.

I finally worked up the courage to tell Sarah my big secret. She convinced me to tell our teacher. So we got excused from gym class to go talk to the teacher. She stood right there holding my hand for support. Then all Hell broke loose. They made me tell the story to the principal and a social worker and a police officer. THEN they sent me home on the school bus! They had called me mom to prepare her and called my dad at work to tell him to bring us to the police station.

My mom immediately started blaming me. It was all my fault. She told the cops and social worker that I asked for it. I pranced around in little nighties and panties. Well, she was the one who bought my clothes, I wore what she gave me. They whisked me away to a foster home that night. I was there for six months until he was in prison.

After that it took years to trust my mother again. I still don't completely trust her. She only talks to me when she wants something. She always babied my brother, but treated me like dirt. It used to hurt a lot, but I'm over it now.

My grandma, the one he threatened to kill, is his mother. We were always close, the only time I was safe was when I was at her house. She and my Pappy were wonderful. Pappy passed away when I was 15. Grandma is still alive and kicking though. Somehow she has convinced herself that it was all just a "misunderstanding." She keeps trying to get me to visit her when he's there. She's even lied about his being there. Now that I have a daughter she tries even harder. I sent her pictures of the baby and specifically told her not to give him any. She sent them all to him and then asked me for more. I was very upset about that. I'm sure it's because she doesn't want to believe that she raised a monster. But this is my child and he will NEVER see her.

I don't regret this choice at all. Children are supposed to be loved and protected, not abused.

"It's never too late..."

My mother died suddenly and unexpectedly when I was 12. My dad's mistress moved in within a month of my mother's death, and, while my dad took me to one counseling session soon after my mother died, when I refused to speak, I guess he gave up. After that, my dad and his new wife never mentioned my mother again - in fact, they pretended as though nothing had happened. I had no idea how to deal with my mom's death. And my dad was too busy with my step-mother to pay attention to me or parent me.

Over the next several years, my father and his new wife more or less ignored me save to tell me how terrible I was - and it's true, I didn't get along well with him or my step-mother. My father told me on multiple occasions that it was my fault my mother had died. I got into all sorts of trouble as a teen, although they rarely noticed. I would stay out with older friends for days and I'm pretty sure they were just glad I was out of their hair. My dad offered little guidance or discipline - in short, he gave up parenting me. I really resent that now.

After high school I moved away, but distance made me miss my 'family' and we continued to have a cordial albeit superficial relationship. My father continued to refuse to speak about my mother, but if we kept the conversation geared toward weather and work, we were fine. It continued that way for over a decade.

Then, last year, I gave birth to my daughter. My step mother, who I had never been close with, began emailing me with increasing frequency, which was bizarre since neither of them cared at all about my pregnancy. She told me that she and my father were planning on visiting, and when I told them that it wasn't a good time, she became increasingly pushy. I realized that they didn't care about me, my husband, or really even my daughter and what we wanted and needed as a family - they just wanted to visit to fulfill their need to appear like good grandparents. That's how it's always been with them - they always try to appear like they're such perfect people. It was the last straw for me. I wasn't going to pretend that everything was okay; not when it involved my daughter. 

I look at my beautiful, sweet, trusting, and innocent daughter and cannot imagine treating her - my child - the way that my father and step mother treated me. 

Reactions - My husband initially thought that cutting them off at the birth of our daughter after maintaining some semblance of a relationship with them for over a decade as an adult was somewhat vindictive. I don’t really see it that way - it’s just that having my daughter gave me cause to rethink my entire relationship with them. And, my husband has still been supportive - he does understand why I cut them off. As for my dad and step mother, I don't know what their reaction was. And I don't really care. Sometimes I'm sad, but it's because I still feel abandoned by my dad, not because I no longer talk to him. In fact, cutting off my parents has finally allowed me to grieve in ways I couldn't previously do. It's been hard. I feel so angry at my parents sometimes.

I think the important part of my story is the realization that it is never too late to cut toxic people from your life. It is never too late to try and make a better life for yourself and your family. My daughter doesn't need people who treated me poorly in her life. It isn't her job to help them win some kind of grandparents of the year award. She's not part of their game. My dad treats people he believes to be inferior to him with open disdain, and is generally impatient and negative. That attitude rubbed off on me growing up, and I work every day to fight it. I want my daughter to know that everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect.

"Freedom did not come for me until I realized it was not my fault..."

The Back Story

All my life, I have lived with my dad's total disrespect for me, my brother, and my mom. He used very harsh discipline on us, that I am still emotionally healing from. When I was a child, he abused animals in front of me, which was very traumatic for me to watch. I still struggle with the images of what he did to innocent animals in front of me.  He's been in and out of my life over the past 5 years, ever since I had my first son. He meddles, wants to control. One time he even wanted to bite my son when my son was biting him! We tried going for counseling with him. He sat there and told lies about me to the counselor, acted like the poor victim. When I went for a counseling session alone, the counselor told me for the sake of my children, it might be the best thing to not have him in my life.

 

I made mistakes too. I used to lash out in anger when he would disrespect me. After speaking to the counselor, I held on to the hope that if I just apologized and stopped lashing out in anger the relationship would get better. I changed, and for a long time, I just let him make his disrespectful comments to me. When I bought him a birthday or Father's day gift, instead of saying thank you, he would make some sarcastic comment. When he came over he would insult the fact that I have pets in my house.  I kept hoping he would change. Freedom did not come for me, until I realized this was not my fault (he is still blaming me for everything) and that I cannot change him. Attending counseling sessions with him, asking my husband to talk to him, ignoring him, standing up for myself in a nicer way---nothing worked, I simply cannot change him. And as much as I hate where we are at, that my family is torn apart, I will not allow my boys to be treated in the same way I, my mother, and my brother have been treated.

The Last Straw

He was often very good with my boys. He spent time with them, played a lot of games with them, they adored their "papa" But I noticed that as they got older, every once in awhile, he would start to treat them the way he treated the rest of his family. He would wrestle and become too rough, if they got out of line he would speak to them in the same harsh tone that used to freak me out, as a child. It stressed me out very much. I did not want to confront him and cause family drama again. I did not want to be responsible for tearing my family apart and his not seeing the boys anymore because I was afraid my boys would somehow blame me..

 

Then, the straw that broke the camels back was last November. He was wrestling with my son and again being too rough. I told him to stop and he wouldn't listen. Things got out of hand, my son kept teasing him by slapping him in the face (he was doing it as a joke because my dad was hitting him roughly also!). My dad snapped, got mad and threatened to slap my son across the face. I should have intervened, but I froze in fear, I asked my mom for help and she did nothing  and before I knew it he hit my son on the shoulder. I told him not to hit my kids, that he was teaching them to hit him back. He got madder and argued with me, right in front of my kids!!!!

 

At Christmas, my mom made it sound like he wanted to patch things up with us. I bought him a gift and sent it home with my mom. I told her we wanted to patch things up too, and still come over for Christmas. I told her all we wanted him to do was phone us, promise us he will not hit our kids again. We waited all day on December 24th for his phone call. Finally the phone rang at 6pm!! It was my mom. She said he refuses to talk to us. How hurtful!! Thank goodness my boys were too young to understand what was going on. We later found out, from my mom, that he wanted us to drop our son off at his house -alone- so he could talk to him about the hitting incident, and then we could all come over for Christmas. We, of course, would never do that. Why did he insist on being alone with him?

 

I phoned a social worker to get some counseling after he hit my son because both my boys were so angry with him, I did not know how to handle it. I don't want my boys to grow up with bitterness and anger the way me and my brother did. I wanted to help them but felt completely at a loss as to how.My pastor was gone, a counseling service put me on a waiting list, I needed help asap!! Social services is listed in my phone book under counseling so I phoned them and a social worker spent a lot of time talking to me. The phone call was anonymous and it says right in the phone book they do not subscribe to call display. She gave me great advice, I told my mom what she said with the intention of helping my dad and our family. I also told her it was an anonymous phone call. My dad freaked out, said he is scared to talk to me because getting social services involved is dangerous, he's heard of people going to jail over social services!! This has caused me great hurt. I phoned a social worker for help because my boys said they wanted to "scratch his eyes out" and I did not know what else to do!! Once again, I am blamed, and he's made himself out to look like the victim who is scared to talk to me because I might send him to jail. How hurtful, I would never report him. I was looking for some help because he had caused so much damage with my boys and I wanted to help them.

 

Breaking Away

Since then, almost a year ago, we have had nothing to do with him. It's been a hard year, but a good one. He is no longer meddling with how I raise my kids, making subtle hints that they should go to school, treating them in the same poor way that he used to treat me. I'm glad to be away from him. I feel free and I don't want him in my life anymore. The pain he has caused me and my family, he refuses to apologize for or even acknowledge. My boys are still too young to understand what has gone on. They still ask about him sometimes, but they do not understand the seriousness of it all. Again, they are too young and I've tried to gently explain the basics to them, but shelter them from most of it.

Looking Ahead

The one thing I feel bad about is that my sons absolutely adored him. They still ask about him from time to time even though they never see him anymore. I'm very worried my sons are going to grow up and and blame me for why they did not get to see their beloved papa when they were growing up. Another huge fear, that they will want to have a relationship with him when they are older and my dad will try to turn them against me to get revenge.

I hope this blog can be a place to heal my heart because I feel so alone. My husband is a huge help, but only someone who has gone through a similar experience really understands what it is like. I also hope I can help others who are a part of this blog heal. It's so hard seeing grandparents who babysit and respect what their children want. I live in a small town. I often have people asking me about my parents. I just kind of brush it off and say "they are doing fine."