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essays:mothers_day [2019/05/28 12:51] zashi |
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| Principally, my mother used pain and shame (and threats and violence) to control me. My father relied upon guilt. They were both raised Catholic and shaming and placing guilt came as naturally as breathing to them. Both of them continually played the victim. My mother was unquestionably the biggest 'victim.' Even when it was my mother being unreasonable or had made some mistake, it was my father who ended up apologizing and kowtowing to my now incensed mother, who proceeded to withdraw attention and affection that my father craved. I could always tell when my parents were fighting because my mother moved about the house silently, ignoring my father, silent treatment being her go to response after her rage-phase settled down. | Principally, my mother used pain and shame (and threats and violence) to control me. My father relied upon guilt. They were both raised Catholic and shaming and placing guilt came as naturally as breathing to them. Both of them continually played the victim. My mother was unquestionably the biggest 'victim.' Even when it was my mother being unreasonable or had made some mistake, it was my father who ended up apologizing and kowtowing to my now incensed mother, who proceeded to withdraw attention and affection that my father craved. I could always tell when my parents were fighting because my mother moved about the house silently, ignoring my father, silent treatment being her go to response after her rage-phase settled down. | ||
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| - | I often found myself assuaging my parents feelings. I did this for my father more than my mother, but my father plied me with guilt to do the same for my mother. Cooing and comforting and expressing my undying loving and appreciation for them--that same old song and dance of affection and acting like a good son. Being forced to commit to taking care of them when they are old. My father once told my eight-year-old self if I ever tried to put him in a nursing home, I should instead just buy him a gun so he can shoot himself. | + | I often found myself assuaging my parents' feelings. I did this for my father more than my mother, but my father plied me with guilt to do the same for my mother. Cooing and comforting and expressing my undying loving and appreciation for them--that same old song and dance of affection and acting like a good son. Being forced to commit to taking care of them when they are old. My father once told my eight-year-old self if I ever tried to put him in a nursing home, I should instead just buy him a gun so he can shoot himself. |
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| As a very small child, I called my parents Mommy and Daddy. At some point, that didn't feel appropriate. Probably around ten, that's when a lot of this kind of stuff come to bear. But it also didn't seem right to call them Mom and Dad. Too informal. Too intimate. They weren't Mommy and Daddy any more and they weren't Mom and Dad. I was their ward, but they weren't anything to me, so from then on I didn't call them anything. I didn't use their first names either. I just carefully avoided addressing them and used pronouns wherever possible. I used father and mother when referencing them. | As a very small child, I called my parents Mommy and Daddy. At some point, that didn't feel appropriate. Probably around ten, that's when a lot of this kind of stuff come to bear. But it also didn't seem right to call them Mom and Dad. Too informal. Too intimate. They weren't Mommy and Daddy any more and they weren't Mom and Dad. I was their ward, but they weren't anything to me, so from then on I didn't call them anything. I didn't use their first names either. I just carefully avoided addressing them and used pronouns wherever possible. I used father and mother when referencing them. | ||
