Letter to my soon-to-be-estranged father.

[flamingsword]

I did eventually send a slightly nicer version of this letter to my dad. Nothing was ever said about it to me. He just pretended that it never happened and I went along with it.

But looking back at my codependent patterns, him and Mom are where I learned that. I’ve been carrying water for this relationship all my life, doing all the feelings work of maintaining it. And it’s time for me to stop.

Hey Dad,

It’s time for some Real Talk. You might want to sit down.

I know you love me, even if you have trouble saying the words, or showing it in ways I understand. I know that you would do better by me if you knew how. But it’s pretty clear that you have no idea how to do that - to be someone I can fit into my life. And if I knew how to deal with your extremely taciturn nature, we would already have a relationship rather than this placeholder for where a real working knowledge of each other should go. I think we both deserve better than this.

I wrote you a letter addressing your Trump votership, which I said before you voted for him would negatively impact my life, and it has. You have not responded to this. In that letter I addressed your lack of communication with me, and since then you have sent me three texts wishing me happy birthyday and responding to same - and no other texts, calls, letters, emails, or Facebook messages. That’s not much evidence that we have a relationship, either.

When I was a kid I asked Gramma why some days you loved us and some days you didn’t. I vaguely recall that she said she was sure I was wrong, and I tried to believe her, but … it still feels that way. You kind of ignore me, and always have. If I’m not physically present and talking about something you’re interested in you just give vague grunts to things or unhelpful answers and don’t really respond to me in any way that tells me what you’re feeling. As an adult it’s puzzling and kinda annoying. As a child it was quietly devastating. I learned real young that people I had to rely on could not always be bothered to put up with me. I replicated Mom’s codependency in your relationship as an adult because I had internalized that treatment like I was something to put up with and worth less than other people. I get that you did not mean to do that, or to make me feel those things. But that’s still how that worked for me. I’m really glad I have a good therapist now who makes me question this stuff.

I get sad sometimes thinking about what I should say or do or try next to convince you to have anything to talk to me about. And you know what? That’s kinda fucked up. I should not have to convince you to talk to me. I have been making myself responsible for both sides of this relationship, and that is not even vaguely fair. If this state of affairs gives you anxiety like it does for me, then maybe it’s time for us to just let each other be. You have a son and a daughter that you know how to fit into your life. Your weird eldest child can fend for themself.

So for the next year, I’m going to explore thinking of you as my estranged father, as someone that I don’t talk to or need to think about. I’m going to stop laboring to maintain what relationship
we manage to have. If you ever decide to talk to me about something that shows you know what feelings are, then I might go back to texting you on your birthyday or something. But for now I think it’s best if we just let our parent/child relationship slowly die.

-Flamingsword

(P.S.: Do you blame me for ruining your marriage with my mom? Is that some part of this? Because from the cheap seats, it kinda looks like that.)

Comments

[sabotabby]

This is good boundary setting. *hugs*

[flamingsword]

*hugs back*

Thanks. If there are any tips for having estranged parents, feel free to share, I guess? I should probably look that up, and possibly re-read the Captain Awkward archives about going low-contact / no contact.

[sabotabby]

Hmm, well, I became estranged from my biological father in my teens, attempted recontact in my 20s, and became estranged again very quickly. I didn't do so much as sending a letter—just a few sentences of email breaking off contact. And then I just didn't contact him. Which was easy to do because he lived on the other side of the country.

I think a big thing is ridding yourself of guilt. He was a narcissist and very skilled at convincing people that he was the sane, rational one and well-meaning. And it took a lot of time for me to understand when I was being gaslit. Reminding myself that he beat the shit out of my mom in front of me when I Was 8 and tossed the phone down the stairs when I tried to call the cops went a long way to no-contact. The estrangement was on him, even though I broke contact.

Anyway, all the luck. If I can help or you need someone to bounce things off of, I'm here.

[princessofgeeks]

I am so sorry you had to go through that. Wishing you peace. So glad you have a good therapist.

[flamingsword]

Thank you.

Yeah, according to my therapist, most of the parents who are responsible for childhood emotional neglect think they are doing fine. I don’t think dad even realizes that I was neglected, because to him feelings other than anger are beneath notice most of the time. He doesn’t really respond adequately to other peoples feelings, and … I need to probably send this letter to my half-siblings, don’t I? They are going to have their own issues with approval-seeking because of this bullshit. Hmm.

[dewline]

I'm sorry that this was needed.

You do what you need to.

[flamingsword]

Thanks. I am trying to ask myself what a rational person would do, and then do that, but sometimes it requires doing stuff I am really uncomfortable with, like talking about old, deep wounds. Dredging the past up, like R’lyeh, and realizing that the geometry doesn’t make sense, not because it’s otherworldly but because the whole thing is a strong breeze from turning into a pile of rubble. It’s uncomfortable but once I start doing it, it seems foolishly obvious and long overdue.

[silk_dragon_zen]

A friend linked us to this blog that has a tonne of posts about estrangement from family of origin/esp. parents. We still haven't read through all of it, but although we aren't estranged from our parents anymore (neither were ever as bad as your father), we found reading some of the posts enlightening and helpful

— us

[flamingsword]

Thanks! I read that a long time ago, but I was looking at it in terms of other people who were needing to go no-contact. I should re-read that.

[chemicalcain]

Good for you for being able to communicate this to him. It's rough stuff.

[flamingsword]

Yeah, it’s uncomfortable, but not talking about painful embarrassing stuff is where shame gets a foothold, and I don’t allow that anymore. Once I know about stuff going on in my psyche, I kind of have to talk about it.

Thanks for reading, even though you could totally have skipped this stuff.

[flamingsword]

Letter that I wound up sending, so I can find it later:

Hey Dad,

It’s time for some Real Talk. You might want to sit down.

I know you love me, even if you have trouble saying the words, or showing it in ways I understand, maybe? I think your love language might be acts of service, which is a barrier when you live a thousand miles away. That behavior works in some of your other relationships, but I’m not built like those folks. I need communication in order to feel safe and known, and to feel like you are safe because I know you. But I don’t think you know how to do that.

I know that you would do better by me if you knew how to. But it’s pretty clear that you don’t know how to be you and be someone I can fit into my life. And if I knew how to deal with your extremely quiet nature, we would already have a relationship rather than this placeholder for where a real working knowledge of each other should go. This letter is not about you as a person, but about how we are so very different that we don’t know how to have a meaningful relationship across the gap between my need to understand and your need to not have to put things into words. I love you, and I know that you love me, but that is not the answer to everything. I think we both deserve better than this.

I wrote you a letter addressing your Trump votership, which I said before you voted for him would negatively impact my life, and it has. You have not responded to this. In that letter I addressed my frustration with your lack of communication to me, and since then you have sent me three texts wishing me happy birthyday and responding to the same - and no other texts, calls, letters, emails, or Facebook messages. That’s not much evidence that we even have a relationship. Maybe I should have sent you one of those letters that second graders used to write: “Are you sorry your political candidate did his best to take away my constitutional rights? Check yes or no.” But that felt kinda condescending, so I never did.

When I was a kid I asked Gramma why some days you loved us and some days you didn’t. I vaguely recall that she dismissed it, saying she was sure I was wrong, and I tried to believe her, but … it still feels that way. You kind of ignore me, and always have. If I’m not physically present and talking about something you’re interested in, you just give vague grunts to things or the briefest possible answers and don’t really respond to me in any way that tells me what you’re feeling or how you think. As an adult it’s puzzling and kinda annoying. As a child it was quietly devastating to have to chase after your approval and your attention and never quite get either one. I learned really young that people I had to rely on could not always be bothered to put up with me.

There’s this thing that happens to people who had histories of trauma or abuse as kids, where they think that as long as they don’t replicate that in their kids’ lives then they must be doing okay. I’m not sure whether you were abused, but I know that you were traumatized. If I resent [biological grandfather] for abandoning you, two generations later, then it must have been a thousand times more hurtful as his actual kid. You didn’t abandon us, but you had trouble seeing that there were other things that could go wrong. But there were, and they did.

As an adult, I replicated Mom’s codependency in y’all’s relationship because I had internalized that being treated like I was something to put up with and worth less than other people was just normal. I get that you did not mean to do that, to normalize putting up with neglect, or to make me feel those things. But that’s still how that worked for me. I’m really glad I have a good therapist who makes me question this stuff. Because it’s not normal, and it was not okay. I was not okay.

I get sad sometimes thinking about what I should say or do or try next to convince you to have anything to talk to me about. And you know what? That’s kinda fucked up. I should not have to convince you to talk to me. You should not have to feel hunted down and bothered by a relationship you don’t know how to have. But I have been making myself responsible for both sides of this relationship, managing feelings I don’t even know that you have, and that is not fair to me, so I’m going to stop. If this state of affairs gives you anxiety like it does for me, then maybe it’s time for us to just let each other be. You have a son and a daughter that you know how to fit into your life. Your weird eldest child can fend for themself. Pretend I’m one of Corbi’s weird friends or something.

So for the next year, I’m going to explore thinking of you as my estranged father, as someone that I don’t talk to or worry about relating to. I’m going to stop guessing and second guessing myself, mentally laboring to maintain what relationship we manage to have, because it sets off my anxiety enough that I don’t even want to think about it. If you ever decide to talk to me about something that shows you are trying to deal with your feelings about the trauma and neglect that you went through and come to a place where we can heal this divide, then I will go back to texting you on your birthyday, and we can work our way up from there. But for now I think it’s best if we just let our parent/child relationship slowly die back to the roots.

I’ll stop pretending we have a relationship that is my responsibility to fix, and you can do … healing from your abandonment / grief / high functioning alcoholism / medical trauma? Getting therapy about being in recovery? I don’t know you well enough to be sure. But I wish you luck with it. I love you.

[my name]

P.S.: Do you blame me for ruining your marriage with my mom? Is that some part of this? Because from the cheap seats, it kinda looks like that could be some of it.

Because I was not like [dead brother]. He was a quiet baby who didn’t set off your sensory issues. I was a screamer and into a million forms of trouble when you were grouchy with trying not to be reliant on pain meds. Nobody ever said it was my fault that you two got divorced, but nobody ever really said it wasn’t, looking back. And you would talk to him and show him stuff that I couldn’t reliably get you to do. So I eventually came to the conclusion that you could handle one baby when he was quiet, but not the two of us when my issues manifested in a much louder way than yours.

You don’t have to tell me if I’m right, by the way. I’m not interested in making you talk to me if you don’t know what you want to say.