I see myself in 1,6,7,10,12,16,, and 18.
Learning a new skill is tough-to-painful for me. I failed to learn to speak Spanish in high school, and again as an adult. As a thirty-something, I took a dancing class, and the instructor said I was the only person ever to fail to learn to dance under his tutelage. I became furious and deeply ashamed of every wrong word and every misstep. I feel a clenching in my gut just recalling it, even now, 30 years later. Ouch.
I’d say more of it is on the abusive end. My parents could be called strict, but they were too lazy to really enforce rules, they just practiced the abuse based on their mood and the rules were an excuse for their need to lash out against other people who were smaller than them and just happened to be their kids. Parents can be strict but not abusive, maybe that leads to obsessive behavior, but the most of what’s described here is based on growing up in fear.
Yeah, that was my stepfather. Alternatively, he would ask what you wanted and make damn sure you didn’t get it. To this day I can’t stand the question “what do you want for Christmas/birthday/etc.”
Bad memories. And sad to have it all shape me today even when I no longer have so many of those memories consciously available.
To me, being able to be in whatever mood you happen to be in is a good thing, so long as we all can do it and everybody can respond accordingly. With my brothers, it’s ok to be “not in the mood for anybody” or to bark at someone, but it’s also ok to say “give me five minutes please” (self-timeouts) or to bark back. What’s not ok is “I can run roughshod over everybody and then yell at my children because they’re crying”.
Yeah, wow, I would describe my parents as strict, but almost none of those apply to me. Most of those seem abusive. Maybe I am using strict incorrectly. Number 3 is especially weird to me, because our family was very boisterous and loud but I’m not afraid of yelling. Number 4 is the complete opposite, because my parents were strict about making sure I was a good guest who offered to help.
I would say my parents were very strict about manners – table manners, being a good guest/good host, interpersonal manners (addressing people properly, not swearing). My mom in particular was very old school about socializing, like if I invited a new friend over (even in high school) she’d call their parent to introduce herself. Which was mortifying to me, but when I’d protest, my mom would say “I’m sure so-and-so’s mom wants to know.”
I don’t know, but it sure wasn’t allowed in mine!
Agree, most are symptoms of being raised in an abusive environment. While often related, you can be raised in an abusive family with no rules or a strict family with no abuse. The latter kids have little reason to develop the lying techniques while the former do.
My parents were strict, but not like this. You did what your parents told you to, but what they told me to do was reasonable. Chores. That’s what I think of. My dad taught me to make coffee (percolator) at 9. I said I was afraid to turn on the gas burners. He said that was reasonable, so I’d get the coffee pot ready, and he’d turn on the burner. I was sorting laundry at 7, doing laundry at 8. And you didn’t do just your clothes, you did everyone’s. But if you found money in the pockets you got to keep it. Even if Dad left a ten dollar bill in his pants, that was the rule.
I did a lot of chores, but my mom wasn’t dead set about things being done perfectly. She’d rather have her kids doing chores a little sloppily than have to do them all herself. When I was 14, my dad decided that cooking dinner M-F was going to be my job. “Your mother works all day in the office, you can cook dinner after school.”
As a result, when I went to college and got my first apartment, I was perfectly equipped to deal with laundry and cooking and shopping. And the first time I called my dad from college and asked permission to do something, he said “I’m done. You make your own decisions now. If I raised you right, you’ll figure it out.” Coulda knocked me over.
We weren’t loud people, but that was mainly because my dad worked graveyard, went to college during the morning, and slept all afternoon. Quiet was a way of life for those six years.
Here’s another one. Did your parents ever apologize to you, for anything? My mother apologized to me ONCE in my life. It had to be an egregious offense, verified by someone else. She asked me why I had made a mess in the bathroom and then slapped me in the face for lying when I said it wasn’t me. My dad came in and said it was him…then I got the apology.
I grew up apologizing all the time. :rolleyes:
I absolutely agree that they are abusive behaviors. What I will tell you, though, is this is a relatively new realization. Most of my life when I told people this stuff they were all, “They’re your parents, they just love you. They didn’t beat you or anything, so it’s not abuse.”
Ah well. Mom’s dead now and dad is super chill. So that’s something.
Dad did. Dad said please, and sorry, and thank you. And while he sounded like God In The Highest when he said how things had to be, if you countered in a logic fashion he actually listened.
Mom started “treating your children as if you thought they were people” (sic) when her closest friend threatened with finishing the friendship right then and there if she did not. Eight years and a few days ago. But as you say, whenever I tried to get any help it was “how can you complain when you have such a wonderful mother, so involved in the PTA and blah and blah and blah.”
Sadly it took his death for us to realize how much of the Bad Stuff came from her and that he actually moderated her somewhat.
Yeah, this is growing up in fear, which is abusive. I know families which were strict but not abusive, but most of these signs are for abusive homes.
Our house pegged the meter in craziness. The worst beating I ever got was because I gave my father the wrong sized spoon for breakfast. That isn’t being strict. That’s simply insane.
And I feel that way, so I almost never try to talk to people about my issues with my parents. I wasn’t beaten. I wasn’t called names. Both parents displayed affection. What the hell is my problem? And come on: take your garden-variety Depression-era parents. Weren’t they ALL like that?
Like I said in the OP, aren’t a lot of those points things that the child can develop whether or not the environment was abusive? Self-doubt, jumpiness, eagerness to please? And is there really anyone in the world who doesn’t feel he or she has some kind of scars from parenting?
My father was strict and ascetic, and doesn’t understand why everyone isn’t. After reading responses to this thread, I’m going to say my mother is merely self-centered, and they both have issues with food (when I visit them with my husband, he always has to stop at a fast food joint on the way out, he’s so hungry). Anyway, yes, I grew up hiding things and telling white lies, jumping when called for, and I still have a miserable complex about housework. But maybe I’m just sensitive and I overreact.
PS: no, neither parent ever apologized to me, and I’ve never heard my dad say ‘I love you’.
I love these threads, though, because I feel at home here. I hate to hear about other people’s abuse but these are the people that understand me. I liked my husband from the first day I met him because he was so goddamn funny. I knew I loved him when I told him about my parents and he was the first one to say “I get it. I know. That sucks and they are terrible.”
My husband is one of two or three people who know them and me well enough to have said “you were raised in a prison camp, hon,” without me bringing it up.
Totally – if he had said his day sucked and he was feeling crabby, cool. Instead he came home like a dark cloud and sat at the dinner table while we all ate and were too uncomfortable to let loose and enjoy each other’s company. When he was out for the evening Mom, bro and I had the best time. He was either neutral or negative for the most part, but in the rare moments when he was jolly, you damn well also better be jolly or you will pay. So IOW, only his mood counted.
And I agree as adults we can all feel how we feel and work it out. But when it’s a parent and a tiny kid who doesn’t understand, the parent could suck it up and show some affection or kindness even if they are feeling crabby.
I think I just realized that I had probably the best parents in the world.
Thanks mum and dad.
When I was a boy, I was scared of everybody else’s parents, never suspecting that most dads were not like mine. Much later, some of my friends told me, "Man, your dad was scary!
Dad was the reason I decided not to have kids. I figured when it comes down to it, You’re going to do what your father did, even though you know he was a terrible example to follow. When I saw my older brother interacting with his young kids, what I saw reinforced that belief. Could I have been a good dad? I don’t know, but I refused to pass the curse on to the next generation.
My cousins were raised very strictly. Thier showers were timed. X number of minutes to get wet, shut water off, soap up and wash, turn water back on to rinse.
They all turned out way more successful than me so maybe it worked!
One sign you were raised in a strict household: You’re afraid to speak the truth, even when you know someone else has just said something that’s incorrect. Authority overrides truth.