Over the last year I’ve realized a lot about my family. I love them and always will, but I’m realizing that the hurt and trauma goes WAAAAAYYYY back. It’s not just me.
My aunt and I have a lot of time to talk, seeing as I have been working with her for two years. The two of us are a lot alike, both being INFJs and feeling a bit like misfits in our own family. We’ve always been relatively close and I lived with her for a summer in college. Through these talks I’ve come to realize that all of the bits of trauma I had growing up started long before I was born.
My grandfather was never very present in our lives growing up, even if we did see him a couple of times every year. Even when we were with him, he rarely did anything with us. I never really gave it much thought. My grandmother was more present, but I can’t say I really knew her all that well, either. That summer that I lived with my aunt, I spent the weekends at my grandparents’ house and going to church with them. Yet, I don’t feel like I really got to know them. My grandmother loved to watch sports (all kinds), taught me to crochet and to sew, volunteered for the church library, and her idea of a home cooked meal was a heating up a frozen lasagna. My grandfather worked every day, even after he “retired.” Growing up, we all thought his favorite place to go was to the post office, as he made a trip almost every day, even when we were visiting from out of town. I remember only one occasion where my grandfather and I were alone together. I’d gone to church with both of my grandparents and my grandmother was scheduled for a colonoscopy the next day and could not eat anything. So my grandfather took just me to lunch. I think it might have been McDonald’s. I don’t remember there being much conversation, but I do recall him saying something about most of the people he knew that were his age were dying off. I’m not entirely sure why he told me this. Was it because it bothered him to see so many his age in the obits? Or was he trying to point out to me that he wouldn’t be around much longer? (He was around for 20 more years.) Or maybe he didn’t know what else to say to his 19 year old granddaughter that he’d never really taken the time to get to know.
That summer I learned something very surprising. My grandfather had been married prior to my grandmother. And he had a son in that first marriage. This was something that was never talked about. When I asked my mom about it, she said she wasn’t sure if it was real, or something she’d dreamt. I know nothing beyond this. And never would have asked my grandfather about it, nor my grandmother who almost didn’t marry him because of it.
More recently, I’ve learned other things about my grandfather. Like how, following the birth of their third daughter, my grandmother was wheeled to the OR. When she asked what was going on, she was informed that her husband had signed to have her tubes tied. That’s all it took. He didn’t consult her and she didn’t have to give consent. He was her husband and he had decided.
My aunt tells me about my grandfather and I’m sad. Because this was who raised my mother. And while I don’t know my mother’s interpretation of how she grew up, I hear a lot from my aunt and not only was my grandfather a narcissist, but my grandmother did nothing. Back then, there was nothing she could do. And meanwhile, all three of their children were shaped by their parenting.
Which shaped my own mother’s parenting and relationship style. And all three of her children learned not only from her, but also from the way their father responded to her. As a result, we’re all a bit messed up.
In December we went to visit my family for Christmas. I was dreading it, knowing that I would have to deal with my siblings and mom.
The lesson my sister got from my parents’ examples seems to have been that yelling is how you get your kids to do what you want. Or at least, that’s how the lessons have manifested. She yells and puts down her kids over the slightest things. And it breaks my heart. For years I’ve come away from my sister’s house determined to NOT be like her and actively work on my relationship with my kids. It’s possible she doesn’t yell as much when we’re not there, but I don’t know. I do know that she was on anxiety meds, but I think she would benefit from therapy as well. But I sure as heck wouldn’t feel comfortable suggesting it to her. The most I can do is talk about my experience with trying to deal with my own kids and my own anxiety and hope maybe she can see how it relates to her.
As for my brother, I think he sort of distances himself from us. Maybe because he’s the only boy, or maybe because he got the brunt of the yelling from our mother. I believe he subconsciously tried to distract from the tension between my parents by acting out, yelling at my mother, running away, etc. He was a different kid once my father moved out. My mother has pointed this out too, but I think she believes it was all my father’s fault. I disagree. I think they both were to equal in the tension in the house. I see my brother when we go down to visit, so it’s not like he’s cut us off. But I’m not super close with him either.
I think I learned most of my behavior from my dad. I learned that the other person is always right and that I should always take all of the blame. I learned that the only way to handle confrontation is to retreat, either physically or mentally. I learned that if someone isn’t happy, it must be my fault. Because that’s the way my mom treated him and he just accepted it. My mother tells us that the one time she got my dad to go to therapy, the therapist stated that my father is “the most passive aggressive person he’s ever met.” Somehow, I doubt those were his words. I can’t imagine a therapist saying that. And if he did, I don’t think he was the right person for the job. Because while my dad IS passive aggressive, I think he’s got a lot of shame built up inside of him and he truly believes that he is as bad as my mom repeatedly told him he was.
Sadly, I think I’ve been passing these lessons on to my kids. I catch myself saying things are “all my fault” when really there are many factors that go into every situation. I’ve heard my son say the same thing and when I hear him, I often respond with “No, it’s my fault.” Which I know isn’t helpful either and not an example I want to set.
When my husband and I were still early in our relationship, he pointed out something that I’d never consciously noticed. All of the women in our family tend to talk down to their husbands. It’s something in the tone of their voices. I’m not sure I can completely describe it. After he pointed it out, I could hear it every time I was with any of my family. My aunts do it to their husbands. My grandmother did it to my grandfather. My sister did it to her husbands. And I have caught myself doing it to my husband (or more like, he’s caught me and pointed it out). It seems as if the men in their lives just accept the way their wives talk to them. But not my husband. Which I actually prefer. I appreciate that he can point out to me when I’m being condescending. Though, I may sometimes go the other direction and feel afraid to say anything that he might think of as critical. I’m trying (even after 21 years of marriage!) to be better about communicating effectively. I want to set that example for my children, as well as working on the relationship we have.
Another thing I’m working on is apologizing to my kids when I don’t react the way I would have preferred. I don’t think I ever once heard an apology from my mother about how she reacted in situations. It was always the other person’s “fault” for how they were behaving. Or at least, that’s all I remember. I don’t want my kids to see me that way. I want them to know that I make mistakes and that I’m human. And that it’s okay if they make mistakes too, as long as they work to make things right when possible.
I’m beginning to learn (and believe) that it’s okay to not be perfect at parenting. That I will not always get it “right” as there isn’t always a “right” way to parent. Instead, I am trying my best to be mindful of the messages I’m sending to my kids. Am I letting them know that it’s okay to make mistakes? Am I communicating that my love is unconditional? Am I showing them that what they say and think matters? Am I conveying that they are wonderful just as they are? I hope so.
As much as I would like to be “perfect” at breaking the cycle of bad relationship habits that were taught throughout the generations of my family, I am trying to give myself grace. It is not my fault that my family has turned out the way it has. And that’s not to say that we’re all bad, We definitely have positive traits as well. But hopefully I can give my kids a little bit better than I got and give them the tools to do even better. I guess that’s all I can ask from myself.
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