My Parents Hated Me
How did I come to know the truth?
My parents didn’t love me.
My childhood tumbled around this perception of mine. It is not just me; many still believe the same. And the hard part is that we are the ones who find it tough to express and accept love.
Is it because we don’t know what love is? Or is it because we were not shown how to love?
Love in my culture was different.
I grew up in a culture and time where love was considered to be off-limits. Even doodling a heart figure raised suspicions in my home. To our elders, love always symbolized a couple sharing a hot kiss.
Even at home, there were no occasional romantic gestures shared between my parents. Hugs and one-on-one conversations felt uncomfortable. Gifting each other was thought to be a waste of money and time.
People who had authoritarian parents might find this relatable. On top of that, if you are an Asian, I can see some vigorous nodding there.
The impact of being so out of touch with expressing love is huge.
This may seem ordinary to some of the people around us. But the unmet longing for love and understanding I had as a child has had an impact. I was expressing my love in ways that I thought would touch them. And by doing that, I was expecting something in return.
I wanted them to appreciate me.
I wanted them to know why I liked or disliked somebody or something.
I wanted them to understand why I hated the group they put me in.
I wanted them to say, “We love you,” and “It’s okay.”
All I got were curt replies, confusing nos, and sometimes harsh punishments. And as a result, I was roaming around with the guilt that there was something wrong with me. Sometimes, I convince myself that I must have forgotten their act of love.
All of this blame and shame came to an end one day. It was the day I got married.
I saw the tears in their eyes when I left home. I realized they had some love for me inside. It is just that I couldn’t comprehend their enigmatic love.
I didn’t know.
I didn’t know their side of the story.
What I saw was that they didn’t care about my paintings or stories. I didn’t know they had no time, as they were working hard to make a decent living.
I felt that they were unconcerned if I had a friend or any other relationships. What I didn’t know was that they thought I needed nobody else other than them.
I saw that all their worry was about me getting good grades and getting into that college. What I didn’t know was their belief that that’s how I would have a peaceful and safe future.
What I saw was that they were restricting me a lot. What I didn’t know was that they were trying to protect me.
One thing became clear. There was nothing wrong with me. I started giving myself the love I much needed.
Also, there couldn’t be any bad intentions behind their detached attitude towards us. They just didn’t know.
They didn’t know.
Yes, I am hurt. I faced emotional neglect. I am trying to heal my childhood trauma. It is true that Gen Z and Gen Y people are distancing themselves from their parents because of their past. At the same time, we are the people who are being riddled with guilt while doing so.
“Our parents gave us food, shelter, and education. Shouldn’t we forget all the emotional trauma and be grateful to them for doing their duty?”
And the blame and shame continue. It was our parents then. It is our turn now.
There are two kinds of perspectives. Field perspective: someone who is in the field of the game (problem). Observer perspective: someone who is observing the game from outside.
While I was with my parents, I had a field perspective. When I left home, I was able to see things from the observer’s perspective.
Despite the bitterness and the hurt, I realized something about them: They didn’t know either.
They didn’t know that we wanted them to show their love.
They didn’t know how to express their love in a better way.
They didn’t know that expressing their love could make us better humans.
They didn’t know that there was another way, contrary to what they’d been taught.
It was surprising to know that they were thinking that they had been doing the right thing. Their reply when I confronted them was,” Our parents didn’t show love to us and we came out fine.”
“Fine?? Mom and Dad, I can still remember how you lost your mind for the most day-to-day flops.”
This dialogue ended in my mind. I didn’t dare speak this out loud. Yet, my perspective shift helped me.
I anchored on my closure line:
They didn’t know. They will never know. To express their love as we want them to. Yet they still love us and want the best for us. They have their own language of love.
This slackened the resistance I had around love and its disclosure.
Wrap up
If you are in a similar situation with your parents, make a perspective shift. Put yourselves in their shoes for once. If you are comfortable, go ahead a step further. Express to them how you feel. If you are lucky, they will get you, at least now. If not, make peace with the truth that they will never know. At least for the sake of your healing. Because it is going to let you show more love towards yourself and those around you.
Forgiveness is not something you give to someone else. It is something you give yourself.
Quote from Storyteller by Jodi Picoult.
Thanks for reading.
Lots of love
From me.
In response to the prompt:
Hi, I am Shanjitha. I write about the mental and emotional aspects of personal growth, self-management, books, and motherhood. If you like my stories and feel like supporting me, subscribe to my Substack newsletter for free. I write exclusive topics on healing and self-discovery. Also, I believe in growing together and am open to sharing your thoughts with me.
