My Toxic Upbringing
I would love to meet some 80’s generation kids that grew up in a single parent family. I was raised by my Mum alone, and back in the 1980’s I was somewhat of an anomaly. Explaining it to my peers would be somewhat difficult; I would be frequently met by the side cocked head as if whoever I was explaining my circumstances to truly didn’t get that there was only my mother in our house. I really didn’t know many people at all sharing the same circumstances.
Even the rough kids still had Mum and Dad.
You know? The kids that would punch you in the face for looking at them wrongly; I think back then I was one of the only kids in my school to live in a single parent family. It didn’t bother me much though, I mean, although my friends didn’t understand it, it grew upon them. Kids may not be understanding, but they were brilliant at accepting it and carrying on as if it was normal!
My Mum was the best ever. She still is. She looked after every need that I’ve ever had. Being a parent now I partially understand the worry and craziness I put her through in my youth, and she had to deal with it all alone. I have my wife to bounce ideas off whereas she would have to sit there in her own crazy worry, with no-one to sound off, or calm her down. It must have been a nightmare.
Single parent-dom isn’t without it’s downfalls though. And winging it solo in such an era of non-enlightenment was hard for parents and kids. As far as I know it. I’ve met at least a handful of likeminded people that have grown up like me since the 80’s.
Getting what I want out of life as a young man was hard. Mainly because I only had my Mum with me, and Mum was very feminine. She didn’t want to engage in the boisterous fun young boys have. I can remember always wanting to play fight but my mother wouldn’t have it in her; she frequently tells me it’s something that she bitterly regrets in life.
Mum knew the poison that Dad was. That allowing him into my life would only destroy me from the inside out. She had such a dilemma. On one hand, she could stop my Dad from seeing me at all, that my life would be better off without him, not knowing anything about the man would help me come to terms with my fatherlessness in years to come. Not that she had much trouble with that at the start, he had opted to stay out of my life. And on the other hand, she could allow him to be in my life whenever he wanted, to infect the very essence of my being; he’d destroy the lovely boy I was turning out to be.
Mum had secretly always wanted my Dad to be in my life, she had a very stable upbringing and knew the importance of the presence of a Father to a boy. One day, on my Grandfathers funeral, when I was 10, an opportunity arose for Mum to meet with my Dad and talk to him about the affect his absence was having on my life. They mutually agreed for him to visit me occasionally.
But Mum being Mum, she couldn’t help but try and protect me; shield me from his toxins whenever they presented themselves. They did in the end too. As I became a young man he began to emotionally abuse me. But that aside the largest failing in my life was my mother’s obsession with trying to shield me from my Dad’s hurt, not that I blame her of course. But that created a personality split for me; one that admired the ground that my Dad walked on, and another that hated the very essence of his being.
I ended up being fractured. The side of me that admired Dad and worshipped the ground that he walked on grew into my sense of self. I was a good man, nice, eloquent and people liked me. I felt good about the person that I was. But the side that equally hated Dad, I absolutely rejected my sense of Masculinity, that being male wasn’t a good thing, and other men were just complete dicks.
So, from there I developed the crazy notion that I was better than other men because I was different – do you see how my sense of self and rejection of masculinity bonds there? And this had no end of implications for me as a young male.
I had developed a sense of self that had put himself on top of other men in the food chain, because I loved myself and equally disliked all other men. Perhaps dislike is too strong a word. I had distracted myself from the notion that I was broken, and had projected the brokenness unto other males. I did have friends that were male, but in my mind, I was worth more than them. This for me, was a messed-up reality to find oneself in.
It didn’t help with women. I had no perception that perhaps fifteen other men were chasing the same prize I was, and in my own mind I was the top prize. I didn’t understand effort; I had already put myself on top of every other man that was interacting with her. I was first place. I didn’t realise that with most of these women I was going to have to work damn hard to get in their personal zone. I thought by just being there was enough; my entitledness was staggering.
This whole putting myself on a pedestal didn’t serve me well in life either. I thought opportunity should come my way because I deserved it. When I was younger a fair bit of opportunity fell on my lap but mainly because I worked hard and had a face that fitted, but as I became older and into my twenties I struggled. My life was slowing down and opportunities didn’t come like they should have. You’d think I’d think,
“Right, I’ll go out and create my own”
No. I sat right there and waited for them to come for me. I was this amazing person, better than those shitty other people, why shouldn’t these amazing opportunities fall on my lap as if I was the Queen of Sheba?
It was much, much later in life that I realised I had to create my own wealth in this world.
I doubt Mum has any idea that she had caused this paradox effect in me, and I don’t blame her, I mean she was only doing what she thought was best for me with the tools that she had at her disposal. It’s always hard being a parent. No-one has the right answers. And It all came from a very well-meaning place and that’s the main thing.
Yet there was a lesson to be learned from this, for me anyway. As I look back it was probably in my best interests to make my own judgements on life, my parents, and the world. If I had been allowed to grow into my own way however I seen fit, then perhaps it would have been better for me. I think my Mums obsession over trying to control the outcome over my interaction with Dad seeped over into my personality, and not in a good way.
I’ve taken to letting my son grow on his own. He’s allowed to be himself in every way possible, within reason. I’m hoping my mistakes won’t seep into his life! A healthy balance between control and freedom to express himself.
For what it's worth I think your mother made the right decision to try and protect you. Coming from a messed up childhood myself I can really relate. I would of loved to end up with your complex of thinking you are better than everyone else. Until very recently I always have felt I was less than other people. So stupid.
It is amazing how much writing something down helps.
I have a story which might make you feel slightly grateful you are not me and appreciate what your mother protected you from for 10 years.
https://steemit.com/life/@gnimeets/would-you-live-my-life
Thanks dude - I checked out yours a few days ago - if you look at it I'm the top comment lol!
Sorry mate I was still quite drunk last night haha
Mothers so often end up being the ones taking that weight, whether because men always seem to die so much sooner or because the men leave (both of which happen far too often)
My sympathies; you give me hope for the future.
Men need to vent more, and I don't mean by breaking their fists over some poor persons face, just, y'know, talk, feel bad, cry a bit, and open up with their partners. It'd really help! Thank you :)
There are so many ways that I can relate to this post, though I caution myself not to bring it up.
I have spent way too long contemplating the what ifs and whys of my upbringing. I have come to an understanding and acceptance of what happened, happened to get me to where I am today.
Because of your upbringing, you are much the wiser for having been through that. You know better than to project it on to your son and perpetuate a toxic cycle.
I'm put at ease learning that I wasn't the only one out there that have had these kind of feelings and experiences. Thank you for sharing. :)
I've done a lot of research, friend. Met a ton of people, and worked with a thousand more, there's a LOT of us. You're definitely not the only one :) - glad that you've found acceptance just like me. The next step is moving on - there yet? :)
I've made it my driving force. To make more of my life than what I was dealt. I feel I owe it to myself to become a better person because of what I have been through.
Dude I know how it feels, I come from the same upbringing. I am happy that you have been able to work on the problem of arrogance by yourself, and I am also happy that you have a wife to talk thing through.
Nice work. I would like to know what u think of my writing! It would be my privilege!
I'll have a look - give me a little while to answer a backlog of comments :) Thanks!
it is amazing how our parents figures can affect our future and life decisions. And believe me, not only children who have grown up with a single parent have painful issues to deal with. Things are complex and we all have our own struggles.
Oh definitely! My wife, who had a lovely upbringing with two wonderful parents still has her fair share of issues she hasn't worked through yet!
It sounds like you are able to see both the good and the bad, and that you're being very thoughtful about how to raise your own child. Good for you, and nice post.
Thank you, Stacia, I do try. I know that we both aren't going to raise him perfectly and we've both made our fair share of mistakes already, but I do know we're trying our best. I think that's all a kid wants really :)
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I like the last part of your post, "a healthy balance between control and freedom". It is something I have been thinking of much lately as I see myself parenting my 7-month-old. I remember the way I was raised and can now begin to see how my upbringing has affected me and how I've responded to risks and opportunities. I had both my parents raising me but with so much protection that it later hindered my ability to explore, dare and experiment. My mother instilled fears in me that I still have and am unable to shake. I see myself responding the same way with my baby and I try to be conscious of when I get like this so that I can mentally train myself not to become so hyper vigilant and scared of letting my baby go and try the steps she needs to experience and develop.
I was a daredevil in some areas as a kid. Then, at about 21 something broke inside me, I no longer took the risks I previously did. I was back to square one.
Treat it like walking out in the sea. Dare a little more, as long as you're safe and can still feel your feet. You'll be fine!
A very touching post, almost all of us have ever felt the same way as you uttered. Everything that parents did and gave to us, maybe that's the best for us. Although sometimes our common sense and desire instinct can not accept or sometimes we are not so comfortable with it. We'll find wisdom behind all that, thanks for this useful post.