The Family
I grew up in a very abusive family. Physical, mental, and emotional abuse were the norm. My father was the most abusive, but my mother echoed his sentiments and couldn't see why we were unhappy with what he was doing to us. Add to this sexual abuse suffered at the day care center they dumped me at, and I was hurt, confused, and losing myself.
After one particularly nasty fight I told my father I had enough. He couldn't hit me anymore without me going to the police. He turned it all on me by saying my parents never wanted to have kids, and I was getting what I deserved. By 19, I felt so awful about myself I attempted suicide and thought about locking myself away in an institute to be safe from my family.
I moved to Australia to study and met a nice boy. I'm 23 now, engaged, and we are planning a 2004 wedding. Since moving I've attended counseling, and I'm taking antidepressants. But my parents still run my life from thousands of miles away. They send me the most hateful e-mails and told me unless I get married at the family home, they will not consider me family.
This they then retracted, but they call incessantly--which I don't answer--and criticize me over and over. Without asking they send money that I hate accepting, but it seems they always seem to know when I need more. They're honestly destroying my life. I feel so much guilt and sadness inside I am getting a facial twitch. My doctor told me my stress levels are rocket high, and that I'm slowly killing myself.
My partner is very supportive and his family as well. They've suggested severing ties with my family since I am suffering so much stress and since I'm an otherwise bright, funny, and bubbly person. But I feel obligated to my family to solve their problems and make them happy with me.
How do I stop the guilt? What if my family hates me? I'm 23. I can't imagine going my whole life without them. Even if they're completely worthless, they are still my family.
Lynne
Lynne, some people have an allergy to shellfish so severe eating shellfish will kill them. The only safe thing is to give up shellfish totally. But what if a person can't see living their life without eating shellfish? Then shellfish will kill them.
Andrew Vachs, an attorney and child welfare advocate, said something we believed in long before we heard it. He said, "Family should be an operational term, not a biological term." To say it more simply, a man is your father because he acts like a father. A woman is your mother because she acts like your mother.
Some people are born in poverty; some people don't get a chance for an education; some people grow up in homes with severe abuse. Wishing things were otherwise changes nothing. For people who grow up with severe abuse, the only way to save themselves and have a decent life, may be to walk away from their abusers.
In the final Godfather movie, Michael Corrleone tries to escape from organized crime, but he finds it impossible. "Just when I thought I was out," he says, "they pull me back in." Your family is trying to pull you back into the cycle of abuse. In your own words, "They're honestly destroying my life."
The behavior we would never tolerate at the hands of a stranger is sometimes routinely accepted inside the family.
Your father was abusive in every way, and your mother supported him. Unlike Michael Corrleone, you have a choice. You now have people in your life who support you, care about you, and love you. Delete the e-mail and change your phone number. Choose the people who deserve to be in your life.
Wayne & Tamara
(From the column for the week of January 19, 2004)
Faulty Forgiveness
I am not sure I need answers, but I do know some comfort would help. I'm trying to come to terms with the fact my daughter no longer wants me in her life. I will keep my door open, as she well knows, and nothing can affect how much I love her. She will come to her own decision about what the future means for her and for me.
I had to love my daughter and grandchildren enough to let them go. I considered it selfish of me to want to know the children so badly that my attempts to reconcile with their mother only created trauma for them. I find peace in knowing in my absence my ex-husband's common law wife has assumed the role of mother and grandmother.
I try not to be resentful that my ex-husband is allowed to be grandpa. His violence with me was the reason for my decision to raise the kids alone. So I'm trying to be grateful my constant encouragement to my children to forgive him had a positive result. But every so often despair hits me and I sob for days.
Why is there forgiveness for the man who was violent, but none for the woman who loved them enough to go it on her own for them? What happened feels so unjust.
Wilma
Wilma, in Jane Austin's novel "Pride and Prejudice" Mr. Darcy knows what a scoundrel George Wickham is, but he conceals it. Elizabeth Bennet does the same. Both think they are acting from the best of motives, but their conspiracy of silence creates most of the problems in the book.
People need to understand that telling the truth is not the same as telling tales. Telling the truth is not gossip or calumny. When you know a plumber is dishonest or unreliable, you harm a friend by withholding that information. In the law it is called withholding a material fact.
We once knew a woman who was thrown down a flight of stairs by her husband. During the year it took to recover from her injuries, she divorced him, but she thought it best to conceal the reason from her two young children. Today her children blame her for breaking up the family.
Just as people mistake truth-telling for telling tales, so they often misunderstand the nature of forgiveness. Forgiveness means not holding hatred in your heart. It has nothing to do with allowing someone to resume an undeserved position in your life. Forgiveness is not a free pass which allows someone to come back in your life to harm you again.
The world works far better when people are known for who they are and bear the consequences of their actions. That is justice--the principle underlying every legal system--and that is why what happened to you feels so unjust.
Wayne & Tamara
(From the column for the week of April 17, 2006)
