RoseNadler
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Post by RoseNadler on Sept 4, 2019 8:47:45 GMT -8
I didn’t feel unconditionally loved. As a child, my acting out behavior and getting bad grades was a response to feeling like my dad only liked me and loved me if I was following his script for how his daughter should behave. He was pretty controlling and had definite opinions about how everything “should” be - including me.
I acted out because I wanted him to love me even if I deviated from the script. In a way, I was daring him or testing him or something. I knew he was happy with me if I did everything right. But I wanted a dad who would still love me and like me even if I made a mistake. That wasn’t him. He was very critical - he always found and honed in on whatever I was doing wrong, and only gave brief attention to the things I did well. We had horrible screaming fights during my childhood.
After awhile, I just figured he didn’t like me, so I avoided him as much as possible. That was when I was about 12. One day my mother came to me and said, “Daddy said, ‘Kate thinks I don’t like her,’ and he sounded sad. Maybe you could try to get along better.” I was pretty frustrated when she said that. I *did* think he didn’t like me, and I had realized that talking to him didn’t do any good, so I just stayed out of his way. I honestly thought that was about the best I could do - what did she want from me?
My dad was never actually abusive to me (I don’t think) but he could be a real jerk sometimes. When I was very little, he would tease me until I got upset. I think he resented me - for taking up so much of my mother’s attention, for needing support and forcing him to be a responsible adult. This is somewhat conjecture, but he and my mom married very young, and I think he liked life better before I came along. Life with a baby and toddler isn’t nearly as fun as the honeymoon stage of your marriage.
My parents were both fairly introverted, and didn’t do much outside of the home, or with friends. I’m introverted myself, so I understand not wanting to do people stuff often. But the problem this caused was that I took a long time to learn social skills. I feel like I still don’t have that quite right. Usually what happened (and still happens) is that an extrovert decides they like me, and we become friends that way - and I learn more about social skills and human relationships by observing this friend.
My parents both grew up in dysfunctional families. When I was in my teens and 20s, I was very angry at my father, and somewhat disappointed in my mother. But I learned more about my family on both sides, and the more generations you go back, the more of a train wreck it looks like. So by the time I was middle-aged, I was mostly over being angry and disappointed at my parents and my childhood. By then, I was more able to see things through my parents’ eyes, and understand what must have motivated them - and feel compassion for their difficulties.
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Post by BunnyEars on Sept 5, 2019 4:43:17 GMT -8
My story is similar. My parents got pregnant with me on their 2nd date, they were 19 and 21, shotgun wedding. They never got to have their honeymoon, and were forced to grow up quickly. My temperament always seemed to put them on edge. I'm very passionate, sensitive, emotional, and they are very guarded emotionally and conventional. I never felt understood or accepted. I was not abused either, though sometimes they could be harsh verbally. I consider my childhood a study in benign neglect. I don't remember my parents being much a part of my childhood, I spent a lot of time alone. I loved when I would go visit my grandparents and cousins in summer, it was the only time I felt like I was part of a real family. At home, my parents went their way, I went mine.
I did not have siblings, we didn't spend much time with close family, and my parents weren't part of any community. We moved around a lot following jobs for my father. I changed schools many times. I never learned proper social skills. In high school, I joined the theater geeks and started to learn a bit to come out of my shell, but I'm still highly introverted. I tend to choose popular extroverts to be my best friends, then I just ride their coattails.
Now I'm middle aged. My relationship with my parents is tepid. They live across the country anyway, I visit them once every few years, we email or message maybe once a month. I'd imagine lots of love addict have similar stories.
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RoseNadler
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Post by RoseNadler on Sept 5, 2019 7:53:21 GMT -8
My parents were close to that age when they got married (20 and 22), but at least they had about 18 months of marriage before my mom got pregnant with me. That was probably the best part of their lives (or at least, my dad’s life. I think Mom really enjoyed parenthood, unlike Dad.)
I have a younger brother, and when he was a baby, he got sick and ran a high fever and had seizures. He ended up with minor brain damage from that, which resulted in dyslexia.
This was in the 70s, and there wasn’t nearly the knowledge or support for families with a child who had a learning disability. For the rest of our childhoods, everything in the family pretty much revolved around my brother’s problem. My dad was always mad at me anyway; and he made it clear that I was to be quiet, not cause trouble, and never do anything to make my mother get worried. I think now that my mom had an anxiety disorder, and when it was really flaring up, it got on my dad’s nerves. He had little patience or sensitivity in the first place; that’s just his personality. He really loved my mom - I think he would have been happier married to her, but childless. Anyway, what little sensitivity and grace he had, went to my mom. And he had to be somewhat patient and good with my brother, since he was the boy and he had a problem. So, my dad’s already limited reserves of niceness were depleted and he didn’t have much left for me.
The man never shirked a duty in his life. I never went without food/shelter/clothing/medical care. He paid for my college education, and later for my wedding. He always did the right thing.
But I almost never got the feeling that he enjoyed me. And I know in my present relationship, I live for the times when I can tell that my partner, L., enjoys me.
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Post by BunnyEars on Sept 5, 2019 9:45:42 GMT -8
I like how you put that, "I never got the feeling that he enjoyed me." That's exactly how I felt about my parents. They loved me, they made sure my needs were met, but they did not enjoy being parent, or being MY parents.
I'm sure the disabled brother meant you were cast aside even further.
I also relate with you saying how your father was different with your mother, My parents are still very much in love. They preferred each other company to anyone else's, including mine. I felt excluded.
Interesting how similar our upbringings. Just bad enough, but no so bad that others didn't have it way worse.
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RoseNadler
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Post by RoseNadler on Sept 5, 2019 13:14:14 GMT -8
Yeah. I always feel guilty for talking about the things in my childhood that hurt me and probably led to my developing an addiction. Especially when I read about people who had incest or physical abuse. All I got was hurt feelings, so I don’t feel like I have a right to complain.
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Post by BunnyEars on Sept 6, 2019 6:38:22 GMT -8
Don't think of it as "complaining." I think as long as we acknowledge our parents did the best they could with the tools they possessed, it's ok to acknowledge our childhoods were painful. And of course, lots of other factors add to love addiction. I know for me, a coupe of early romantic rejections, for example, I never fully recovered from.
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RoseNadler
Moderator
Newcomer Greeter & Moderator
Posts: 1,080
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Post by RoseNadler on Sept 6, 2019 7:33:06 GMT -8
Yes. I went through some bullying by peers, and also some early romantic rejections.
Success breeds confidence. But the trouble is, I need to feel confident in relationships. And success in relationships depends at least partly on another person.
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