Some things aren't forgivable.

This thread has a lot of resonances for me. I think the word forgiveness is just an impossible concept except maybe for saints, and I eventually just abandoned it, in my search for a little peace from my demons – I was the child of an extremely cold mother who actively disliked me and treated me as nothing but a burden and duty from my earliest memories. Oh and our pediatric dentist was horrible and didn’t use anaesthesia either, but it would never have occurred to me to complain, since it was freakishly frightening to speak to my mother about anything at all.

Like the OP’s mother, my mother became enormously defensive whenever her mothering style was even the slightest bit hinted at being less than perfect. She sent me to a psychiatrist when I was eleven, telling me that if I didn’t change I would have to find somewhere else to live. I had no idea what behavior she couldn’t tolerate because in my mind, all I did was hide as best I could. The psychiatrist told her (I learned this from my mother’s best friend many years later) that the problem was not me, but her. That was the last time I saw him.

I don’t love my mother. I have never experienced that emotion for her, that I can remember. But I don’t hate her either. It took about 40 years of work on myself, but something eventually just broke loose and floated away one day. I didn’t forgive her, whatever that means, but I just ceased to think about her much at all. I don’t have anything I want her to understand, or be punished for, or anything. She just doesn’t have a role in me any more. I experience this as an enormous blessing for which I am very grateful.

She isn’t a terrible person, just a weak, frightened, emotionally stunted person who made a truly wretched mother for most of her children (my oldest sister was treated entirely differently).

I’m happy to go to family events, I don’t get the bleeding ulcers I used to get, I feel fine. I grew up, in some sense. And another thing: I started acting out of strength, and that changed the dynamic of the whole family, who always expected me to pull a disappearing act. I showed up, I took responsibility, I was cheerful and proactive and helpful (never did any of those before), and eventually people stopped being snidely amazed and just accepted it. I feel almost as though I am not related to these people, I’m something between a usual guest and a friendly acquaintance.

From this vantage point I am able to be generous and helpful most of the time, which I do because I want to be a generous helpful person, not because I want anything out of them, because I don’t. I really really don’t.

I watch my siblings struggle with their childhood scars in pain and anger, which they blame on other people and try to exert vengeance and create constant suffering for themselves and inflict damage on others without ever seeing what they are doing. I’m grateful I am not doing that right now.

You can call it forgiveness if you want. I think it is about as good as I’m going to get, whatever you call it.

Some people just shouldn’t have children.* I have a friend who had a little boy in 1968 under some pretty dire circumstances, for her, and she took it out on him. Not as outright child abuse,* but let me say that she never, ever let anything he wanted stand in the way of anything she wanted. And the result of this is that he left home as soon as he could, never went back, and she hasn’t heard from him (but only of him) since 2001.

Now she can look back and say she was wrong about most of the things she did. Two examples: once she took him to his soccer match. She only ever dropped him off, she didn’t stay for the match. So she dropped him at the soccer field and left to go drop off her dry cleaning and get her nails done. When she went back, two hours later, he was standing disconsolately in the park, all by himself, kicking a tree–because she had the wrong place. He had missed his game and been all alone by himself in the park for two hours, basically abandoned, and she told him to quit whining. Item 2: He became an eagle scout. She and her husband (his stepfather) had a bridge tournament that conflicted, so they went to the bridge tournament and not to his eagle scout ceremony. By then she had plenty of time to reflect on the error of her ways but the fact was that she resented him and did not love him, and she hadn’t changed her ways.

Now he could be adult about it, forgive her, and come to visit. But why should he?

She left his father when he was 3 or 4, remarried, and had other children, and has warm relationships with all of them. Some of them also have warm relationships with him. But she doesn’t, however much she wants one now (and she has admitted she was wrong–many times–but she also realizes that resenting his presence then means she doesn’t deserve his presence now).

*She has told me some terrible things that she did that I would, in fact, consider psychological abuse. He probably has a whole different view of all of it. It’s not so much that she shouldn’t have had children but that she shouldn’t have had one at that time.

Is there a single human adult alive who can look back and honestly say that their parents didn’t fuck them up?

:dubious:

Thank you, Philip Larkin.

Anyway, my vow is always: ‘Forget, But Never Forgive’.

My main flaw is that I am motivationally-challenged aka ambitionally-impaired aka lazy. My parents coddled that.

I live by myself. Work as an hourly supervisor in a big box store. Pay my bills. Actively socialize but have no romantic attachments. My more adventurous brother lives across the country & has a much better job. Isn’t the most social person but has an occasional romantic partner.

We were occasionally spanked but never beaten, sometimes yelled at but never mercilessly badgered, never remotely molested, spoiled within the limits of our family’s resources. We may be flawed but we are also caring responsible people who look out for others. Our parents were flawed but we still were pretty darn fortunate we had the ones we did.

I know scores of people who could say that. Definitely enough to know that a healthy, positive childhood regardless of economic circumstances or life events is completely possible.

I can.