Going no-contact with my parents

One of my most-requested newsletter topics

I talked about going no-contact with my parents in my newsletter last year. Over the months to follow, I would receive regular messages about that newsletter. In an effort to give it a home for those of you who may want to read my story in a more supportive group vs. having it in a blog post for anyone to read, I’m sharing my story here.

This is one of those stories many of us cannot share. I am in a unique position – my sisters talk to my mom but are on my side, and support me. My stepdad and I are in touch and he is on my side, too. And the reality is that things are not getting better with my mom. The benefits of sharing – of making someone feel less alone – are worth it. Sharing my story has helped me feel less alone, too. That does not mean this is easy. I do not have a relationship with either of my biological parents.

I wish this wasn’t the case, but I have nothing to lose. So here we go. And TW: this post deals with abuse.

Why We’re Leaving This House and What Comes Next

Part of me felt shame in my story. Part of me held on to hope that things might change with my mom. There is still a part of me that wishes things to change, but the logical side of my brain knows that’s not happening. If my daughter going through cancer treatment did not cause her to change, nothing ever well.

I am 41 and still trying to come to terms with this in therapy. Having children has been healing, and has opened new wounds. The thought of purposefully hurting my children – of being cruel to them – is something I cannot understand, relate to, or empathize with. Being a mom has almost made it harder to understand what I endured as a child.

For those of you who have faced trauma and made the decision to protect yourself by going no-contact, know that there are more of us out there than you may think. It’s just one of those things that we aren’t all in the position to share. It is the hardest decision because it goes against what we are taught. You put up with family. You take care of them. But I would argue that keeping someone in your life who consistently makes you feel terrible and causes trauma and pain is not healthy. We all deserve better than that.

The decision to end contact with my father wasn't really mine, but I claimed it in my own way. For the entirety of my childhood, he was a manipulative and absentee parent. There were drugs, illegitimate businesses, and an excess of verbal abuse. He was very much in and out of my life, and I saw him maybe once a year in my teenage years. When I was about 17 or 18, he and his girlfriend (or wife? I’m not sure) had a baby, and I found out after the fact. A year later, I got a call from the baby’s mom – he had kidnapped her and they were found in Mexico, I believe. In that moment, I was so relieved she was ok, and never wanted to talk to him again. There wasn’t a goodbye – I never heard from the guy again, but it was a long time coming. There was so much peace in it. I’m ok.

Of course I wish I had a dad. And actually, my (ex) step-dad who raised me reached out when I had surgery. He told me he’d really like to stay in touch, and (this really hit) said not adopting me will always be his biggest regret. It was a very healing moment, and I’d really like to have him in my life again. We had a sort of rocky relationship when I was little, but we’ve both grown up a lot. We are both living happy lives now, and can move past that. I’d love to give my children a grandparent from my side. He was my dad for a long time. I’m hoping he can come visit soon.

Back to going no-contact with my mom. She raised me. She cared for me. She also told me everything was my fault. That I would never amount to anything. That I was a mistake. When you spend a lifetime hearing that, you start to believe it. And sometimes, it can be better to free yourself of people that put those thoughts in your head. Even when they're family.

I’ve never shared this story online, but she once told me she was going to kill herself and it would be all my fault. She did so while holding up a knife. I was nine.

While it wasn't all bad, the bad was terrible. There was a lot of verbal abuse, gaslighting, and manipulation. I knew it wasn’t good, but did not realize the extent until I became a mom. The thought of my children not always feeling loved (always, no matter what), makes me sick. I tell them I love them all the time, and they know they are good kids who sometimes have a hard time. That we all have big feelings, and that it’s ok. And most important, that dad and I will always love them.

When we got engaged and things really fell apart, my mom told me I should repair things with her so when my marriage eventually ended, I would still have a family. She pretended my great aunt Rose was on hospice when she wasn't, and couldn't just get it together to be kind when my daughter went through cancer treatment. A few years ago, I received an email that was basically a laundry list about all the things that were wrong or difficult about me, and all the things she tried to do or did for me, and how she’d like to fix things. It’s all so twisted, and I cannot engage with it.

Still, I kept her in my life because she was family and that's what you do. Or is it?

She used to really get to me. I'd feel broken for days or weeks, and it ultimately took becoming a mom and Margot getting sick to realize that I did not have it in me to deal with her anymore. I got a call on my 39th birthday. A voicemail saying very casually that she almost died (according to my sisters that is untrue). She talked about how her dad died on her 39th (which is true) and that I almost lost my mom and had no idea so should call her. Then she wished me a happy birthday, and I was, for the first time, almost non-reactive. I felt sad for her. It was hardly the worst thing she had ever done. I called my sister, told her to tell our mom I was happy she was ok. And I went back to caring for my sick daughter.

I deeply and desperately wish things were different, but you cannot force someone to change. It is my hope that I’ll continue to heal through my experience as a mom, and in therapy.

I wish I had my own family around for me and my kids, too. The holidays always magnify it a little bit. They are always a reminder of what’s missing.

There has been a lot of healing with motherhood, but also the realization that my mom couldn't love me the way I love my girls. It makes me sad, but I do mostly know it's not my fault. There’s still that part of me that believes that narrative, but it is something I’m working on.

Therapy, anxiety medication, and surrounding yourself with the family you create (whether those are friends, a partner, or children) helps, but it doesn’t take it all away. I have come a long way, but still have a lot of healing work to do. And that’s the biggest lesson – realizing that it’s ok for it not to be ok. Allowing the grief and the joy to coexist.

I'm sharing this again because while I've come a long way, the holidays are coming up and they bring up a lot for those of us who have difficult family dynamics or do not have family around. And it can be so lonely – sometimes it feels as if you're the only one going through it. Getting married and joining my husband's family has been wonderful, but they do not fix or replace the loss my own parents in my life.

This is one I hope most of you cannot relate to, but it’s these stories that connect us.