My relationship with my parents is difficult and painful and I am wondering whether I should continue to see them. I was the youngest child. My father is an alcoholic and was drinking when I was growing up (he has now stopped) and my mother was emotionally distant – working hard as the only supporter of the family, but spending much of her free time out of the house, away from my father. She always provided me with clothes, books and amazing travel opportunities, but never gave me any emotional support.
As a teenager, I developed eating disorders. My father persecuted me, blaming me for the family’s problems. We had volatile fights. My mother didn’t know how to deal with this and buried her head in the sand. I attempted suicide twice. I was given antidepressants, but therapy never followed.
At 18, I left for university (my mother fought my father over this, as he didn’t want me to leave home). I struggled with my eating disorders for years, eventually stopping with the help of therapy.
I am now in my 40s, married to a wonderful, supportive husband, and love being mother to two happy children and enjoy fulfilling work. However, I struggle hugely when visiting my family. I only see them once every year or two. Everyone tries to act as if we are a big, happy family. I struggle to pretend everything is OK, as I am angry and hurt. My parents make hurtful, insensitive remarks that take me back to being a teenager. Part of me doesn’t want to see my family at all. I debate whether it is worth discussing these issues with them, but I am not sure they have the emotional intelligence to engage and fear I will be left vulnerable and disappointed again.
I edited out some key details to protect your identity. Sometimes, in complicated families, the tendency is to look back to try to make sense of things, and this has great merit. But it can take much energy, and provide little resolution. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is to look at the now, and work forwards.
Chris Mills, an experienced psychotherapist (ukcp.org.uk), thinks it is amazing that, despite everything that has happened, you are not repeating patterns in your family and have created a good life for yourself. He says: “Sometimes, someone [in the family] takes a deep breath, does the work and stops the rot.”
Mills thinks there are some “green shoots” in the bleakness of your early years. Namely, that your mother did things that “could be described as emotional support in the way that she could. She showed that you had value and you were worth doing things for.”
I think the fact that she stood up to your father – when she usually didn’t – in facilitating you to leave home, was very telling.
You have been through some incredibly tough emotional landscapes and now you find yourself struggling with the way your family is. “What you seem to be finding unbearable,” says Mills, “is that you have to put a brave face on it [when you get together with your family], whereas you’ve dedicated your life to being authentic, and suddenly you have to go back.” Mills and I feel it is “crucially important” that you know you don’t have to continue having contact with your family.
But, some things to think about. Often when people write to me about wanting to sever contact, it is the actual act of cutting ties they focus on, but that is not the hardest bit; neither is it always the closure they hope for. You need to think about whether it is just your parents you want to cut ties with or your siblings, too? What about wider family? What about your children and their relationship with your family? It is up to you who you no longer see, and you can make it clear if you want your children to continue to have a relationship with them. But that may mean you also still have some contact (you don’t say how old your children are).
“If you decide you want to stay in contact,” suggests Mills, “you could do something incredibly brave – and you are incredibly brave. You could write them a letter – not an email – saying: ‘I want us to talk about the past, not to beat anyone up about it, but so we can have a shared reality, because I need that.’”
Of course, there may be no response. “As you see it,” says Mills, “there’s a family story your family cling to. And, largely, people don’t like it when others come in telling them that story is wrong. So they may rather scapegoat you than listen to your other story.”
I think you need to be realistic about how much they will change.
I asked Mills how you could accept the anger and he explained it was OK to be angry, but said: “Sometimes anger only recedes if you can express it.” But expressing it to your family – if they won’t listen – won’t bring the resolution you need.
But, says Mills: “All of us are entitled to protect ourselves from harm, wherever that harm comes from.” You have the right not to have to see your parents if you don’t want to. If you do still see them, “you have to manage your expectations,” says Mills. “If you do cut ties, remember you are doing it for the best reasons; it’s not an aggressive thing, but protective. There are conditions attached whatever you do. There will probably be no golden sunset where your parents are concerned. But you have created the golden sunset – in your own life.”
• In the UK the Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-8255. In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is on 13 11 14. Other international suicide helplines can be found at www.befrienders.org.
Your problems solved
Contact Annalisa Barbieri, The Guardian, Kings Place, 90 York Way, London N1 9GU or email annalisa.barbieri@mac.com. Annalisa regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence
Follow Annalisa on Twitter @AnnalisaB
