Just like their present, a toxic person has a drama-fueled past. Although I know this about my mother, I have no idea at the actual history. It’s hinted at, and sometimes accidentally mentioned but never ever spoken about.

It is typical of toxic people not to talk about their past. In fact, when my father once told me about the big family secret, he was swift to add: Don’t tell your mother I said anything. You are not supposed to know.

So here I was with a huge secret, but without any of the details that would have helped me make sense of any of it (this is not my story to share, that’s why I am deliberately vague). It was like giving someone a tornado warning without the day or place of it.

I can just hear someone out there say: yeah, but you cannot burden your children with that kind of stuff!

You are absolutely right, as kids we had no business knowing this. But as we came into adulthood, we could have been confided in. Or at the VERY least, pick either or. Either tell me, or do not tell me. None of this confusing: I am sort of telling you but please pretend you don’t know.

I also have to add, that it is not just traumatic experiences. I realize that I know far more of the personal history of my in-laws than my parents. I know about places they lived, jobs they held, trips they took… I only know very sporadic stories about my parents, and of those ones they are not even always about themselves (like: when I was little I had a friend who etc.).

I guess the truth of the matter is: I really don’t know my parents at all.

Fly Free,
Mags

we love to read your comments below

Mags
While I may technically be the Director here at SwanWaters, my unofficial title is Healing Cheerleader! I’m a survivor of childhood emotional abuse and workplace bullying. And believe me when I say that I’ve walked the walk when it comes to healing from trauma. I firmly believe that we can undo some of the damage that abuse has done to us, and learn the necessary skills to handle life and all it brings us.

2 comments:

  1. Dustybuns

    April 5, 2016 at 6:42 pm

    That’s so funny, and so identifiable to me. My father’s mother died when he was four years old. I didn’t learn this until I was 35. Imagine your mom dying when you were a child. And he never mentioned it. And, ironically, he didn’t tell me. I overheard him telling someone else. I had no idea. I always knew that I didn’t know my parents. Emotional arm’s length was a distinct unit of measurement throughout my childhood. Just assumed it was me.

    Reply
    • Mags

      April 6, 2016 at 9:50 am

      WOW! I am lost for words on that one!

      I think all of us normalize that type of distance, and once we realize it is not normal we look for answers within ourselves. There must be something we are doing that makes us so impossible to connect to. Are we unlovable? We ask ourselves. Of course we are not, the damage lies with our abusers.

      I am glad you found us Dustybuns!

      Fly Free, Mags

      Reply

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