I love this advice, Polly. And for others out there experiencing similar self-doubt but whose parents never directly called them names: it happens in subtler ways too. If your parent gives you toxic positivity in response to sad feelings ("You really have so much to be lucky for! Just put one foot before the other! So many have it so much worse!") this is still reflective of their inability to be present with your feelings and to try to fix them or minimize them for their own comfort. It can have the same effect of making you believe the lies that your emotions are too much, that something is wrong with you, and that you should shrink yourself if you want to be able to connect.
Great point. Nothing feels worse when I'm feeling terrible than someone telling me to feel another way. And when you internalize those instructions and expect yourself to do battle with all of your very natural feelings of frustration, sadness, hesitation, reflection? You end up in an anxious state, trying to control your reaction to the world, shutting down all of your natural responses, and eventually blocking your ability to feel joy at all. Once you start to enjoy your emotions and you can detach from this flavor of knee-jerk positivity, it actually just looks and sounds comical. Then you can feel compassion for it, while recognizing that this parent is not the right person to go to when you're upset or down. The struggle is that when you've internalized the same message for too long, you just feel like a small, sad, negative person, instead of recognizing that these are all reactions to twisted messages you've blindly ingested for too long.
I can relate to the letter writer having grown up with a loving but ultra critical mother. However, I think I have inadvertently become a lite version of this myself towards my own children. Not so much the outright criticism but definitely the lack of boundaries and blindness caused by my own anxiety. Heather, I’d love to know what you’d write to the letter writer’s mother. I love my children so much and want so very much to be better.
I understand, it's really hard to be an anxious person with a stressful childhood and avoid bringing that to the table with your kids. The big challenge when you care a lot and you're anxious and your kid is struggling is that you tend to do too much instructing and managing and stressing in ways that make things worse. I see this all the time, and I get it because I've been in the same place. But if you're slightly wound up and negative about a kid's troubles, the kid tends to pick up on that and get even more wound up. A giant part of our jobs as parents is just to show up and model calmness and optimism in the face of stress. The ability to do that lies in forgiving yourself for being ragged and unsure, over and over again, until you really understand in your heart that you're doing your best and you'll never do everything right.
I'm sure you're doing a lot of things right. The fact that you know you have bad boundaries and you're anxious is like half of the battle.
It's reductive but we're here to enjoy our lives and enjoy our kids. Anything you do that's fun or relaxing or just companionable with your kid is helpful. Chatting about nothing, being spontaneous, and enjoying your kids quirks -- small things, every day. We tend to think that we're supposed to tell kids how to be around the clock, but as kids get older they get less and less receptive to instruction. They just want someone to talk to who doesn't turn everything they do into a lesson. I think a lot of trouble arises when we get arrogant about what a kid needs to "fix" how they are, like they're preparing to do battle out in the world and they need our harsh lessons to survive. Kids are adaptive and the more they learn to trust themselves, the more capable they feel.
I don't know, it's hard. I think the number one rule is to resist the urge to project your anxieties and needs onto your kids. The more you allow yourself room to be a flawed person, the more you'll naturally allow the same for your kids. So it all starts with forgiveness and a lot of space for everyone to be how they are without judgment.
Anyway, lots of scattered thoughts here, not very organized, but I hope some of it helps. Again, we really forget how much of parenting is about participating in life and showing your kid how much joy is out there waiting for them. It's really about looking for new ways to delight in each other's company and relish the world together. That sounds unrealistic I'm sure but sharing the things you love and getting into the things your kid loves is a lot of it. You aren't a scoutmaster, you're there to model love, confidence, relaxation and happiness. If those things feel out of reach, you have to give yourself more support and more down time so you have the energy to be a calm, loving presence in your kid's life.
But again, you're self-aware and you're full of love and concern, so I'm beyond certain that you're not doing as badly as you think! Hang in there. xo
I'm a huge fan Heather so thank you so much for taking the time to respond to my question. In recent years I've definitely been more of a scoutmaster (or at my worst, prison warden) than a companion. I used to be a really fun mother when they were younger - spontaneous, silly, funny. And then my daughter became a preteen and obsessed with her phone and YouTube, and I freaked out and waged a battle that I've been losing ever since. Your post was timely because I've been trying to change this dynamic to become a parent she wants to talk to rather than hide everything from. I've gone back into therapy, slowed down at work, and am trying really hard to empty my preoccupied brain so that I can be calmer, more present, and have more opportunities to delight in them. I'm going to print out your response and read it every morning to remind myself what is important. Thank you!
Preteen years and phones are rough for most people. If it helps, I think I was less consistently fun when my kids were younger because I was under more financial stress and hadn't sorted out what I wanted from my life yet. I also think I'm more suited to grapple with the specific challenges of older kids. Even though I can look at a lot of videos of me and my very small children laughing and goofing around and know that I spent tons of time just hanging out with them, I have some guilt about how preoccupied and bogged down by work I was in those years. And I just hadn't sorted myself out as much, so I was quicker to anger and less consistent. Just wanted to mention this because I don't think any parent gets every stage and every challenge right. Sounds like you're making some great adjustments for yourself and your kids. Just don't forget that it's also about your happiness, and that modeling happiness for your kids is a huge gift that stays with them much more than any instructions you give them.
Thank you for the reminder to nurture my own happiness too. BTW, my girlfriends and I are huge Polly fans and your words on dating and romance continue to help us navigate the shit show of dating in our 40s. If you ever make it to Sydney, Australia again and want a night out, drinks are on us!
A note to the letter writer: you might consider undergoing testing for neurodivergence (most commonly ADHD or autism, but there are other conditions under that umbrella). I am not a medical doctor, and I'm not sure if that type of advice is even allowed here, but as a neurodivergent myself I notice a lot of similarities while reading your letter.
It obviously doesn't change any of the validity of what you're saying, or the quality/utility of Polly's reply, but if it's not something you're aware of, and it turns out to be good advice, you will likely find that it can help many things in many ways.
Agree! I don't like to go out on a limb with diagnoses because there's already so much to grapple with here, but I think a therapist would be very helpful on this front as well!
As a neurodivergent person myself, I think of it like this--there is a rainbow of different kinds of people in the world. Some people have brains that work a little bit differently than other people's brains. (NOT better or worse, JUST different!) And certain neurotypes (often people labeled as ADHD or autism) have certain tendencies in common. It really helps me to get life advice from people who have similar kinds of brains as me, because that advice is usually more useful and applicable than advice meant for the general public.
Most people would guess that if someone is verbally articulate and has formal, logical speech patterns, but also has difficulty/stress/awkwardness in social situations, that they should be screened for Autism. There are some other signs too, like physical tics/fidgets and sensory sensitivity to sound, smells, textures, lights, etc. And a LOT of autistic people feel like they have to hide their true selves in order to be accepted by other people (we call it "masking") If you do find out that you're on the autism spectrum, that can be a wonderful sense of freedom, because you can put a name to some of the things you've been feeling. Plus, there's lots of great support and help out there for people like us. :-)
The genes for Autism and ADHD do run in families, and I think what Polly says is very poignant and true--if your mother also had neurodivergent traits but was scolded and blamed for them, she probably developed a negative view of the world and a harsh inner critic that she is passing on to you. :-( But if you can learn to accept and embrace your quirky, weird, and awkward traits, then you can start making friends with other people who are quirky, weird and awkward. And then you can form neurodiverse friendships of mutual support and admiration. :-)
Seems like you've already gotten tested, so good on you. I'd say the biggest things that jumped out at me (and again I AM NOT A MEDICAL DOCTOR) are:
1. Difficulty maintaining eye contact. Noticed that one right away.
2. Repeated references to being "sensitive." Often this is legitimately neurological and simply knowing that can be so relief-giving, regardless of treatments sought.
3. A clear desire to bin, sort, and appropriately react to social situations as if they are a logical puzzle to solve rather than just messy-ass people doing messy-ass shit without a goddamn clue (which is more accurate).
4. Having (at least) one Boomer parent who seems categorically incapable of raising children, but simultaneously cripplingly beholden to the Boomer Ideal of Having Children When You Just Really, Actually Shouldn't. In fact, having a parent who so obviously, objectively *shouldn't* have had children, but went right a-goddamn-head and did so anyway for one dumb reason or another, might one day turn out to be the best tell of neurodivergence of all.
To the LW and Sophie, being on the parenting side of someone who is neurodivergent, one can fall into the habit of being a harsher and more critical parent than you want to be, you can start to try and “change” you child to “protect” them from the criticism of the world. This can become a way of loving them, that is not at all loving, rather than doing the more vulnerable thing of trying to make the world a more welcoming place for your child. This pattern can also be acted out by a neurodivergent parent, I not firmly believe this was much of the root of my own mother’s constant negativity and criticism, especially towards my sibling. That said however your brain works the key is the same, know and love yourself because that is the minimum you deserve in this world.
Thank you for these comments. Couldn't agree more that getting a test can be very affirming for some.
I was actually tested, and found to have ADHD, when I was in primary school. I never felt ADHD fit, and I took this as shame.
Both of my parents were largely emotionally unaware people (this took a very long time to realise with the help of a therapist) who were trying their hardest. Unlike my father, my mother was very critical (a high achieving perfectionist). Much like the mother in this article, she was terrified of emotions and wanted to make me a resilient person (read: vulnerability is dangerous). She would tell me that my anger and sadness (which were pretty run of the mill) were because of my diagnosis. This is probably what a lot of well meaning/misguided parents say to their kids with ADHD as an attempt to make them self aware. I felt my emotions weren't valid.
When I was 18 I saved up so I could take another test. They told me I was neurotypical, and I guessed some people grew out of ADHD. In the full report they said that the testing had changed so much over the decade that they would never call my original results neurodivergent. In fact, they said it was unrigorous to do that at the time. This had a profound impact on me. Obviously, this is because the diagnosis was used to undermine me and it didn't line up with my experience of the world.
It's so interesting to see your perspectives on how the diagnosis helped you. Thanks for sharing. I still struggle with the idea of how to approach this kind of label because, as you say, all our emotions are valid anyway — even the "neurotypical" are part of the rainbow.
Thanks for your words Heather and LW, I have found them very relatable and provoking.
Hoo boy. My mother often reacted to me in severely judgmental and undermining ways (e.g., every time I was upset or sad she asked, “are you getting your period?”) and it took me until my late 30s to recognize that she is an extremely anxious person who cannot handle her own turbulent emotions, and that the emotions and responses that she pathologized my whole life due to her own discomfort were just…normal human feelings. After a lot of therapy, I see all of this clearly, but when I am stressed/worn down, my fear of fucking up manifests itself into horrible intrusive thoughts that take that fear to its extreme (the post-lockdown version is that I will end up in prison for something terrible but unspecified— which is very similar to fears I had as a young kid).
Everything you said about relaxing and learning to love and be loved…it’s still so hard for me not to constantly be *working*—on myself, at my job, on my relationship, on my friendships. The thinking part of my brain knows where all of this comes from and what it is, but the sad, scared girl inside of me really kicks up a fuss when I feel threatened or afraid. Giving myself now what I needed then is the only way through, but it still is a real learning curve.
This letter triggered me. I stopped speaking to my family, my mother especially, in my 30s. It saved my life. But mother sought out ppl I went to grammar school with (50 years ago) and asked them if they had spoken to me and why was I so mean to her when she loved me so much. The gaslighting, the alcoholism. Both my sisters believe my mother hung the moon and I'm an ungrateful, mean, nasty bitch. I'm in my 60s and still dealing with it.
I'm sorry! This sounds awful. It's amazing when the entire family "agrees" to treat their system as "normal" and anyone who notices that the emperor has not clothes (and is drunk! and manipulative!) is cast out. There's no way to address reality with the people involved. I can't imagine how difficult that must be for you.
Ah totally relate. My father used to literally leave the room shaking his head in disgust as soon as I started crying while he yelled about my mistakes or personal flaws (lmao!). By some miracle I found a partner who was secure in his emotions and didn’t leave when I cried but pulled me close instead. This shattered my worldview (!) and eventually led me to pursue therapy as I realized that my ideas about emotions meaning I was pathetic were perhaps…. Untrue.
LW: Allow for the possibility, the smallest possibility, that your ideas about your badness are wrong. You don’t have to fully reject them now— a slight loosening of your grip on them is a fantastic leap toward healing.
Therapy was the greatest gift I've ever given myself. If you don't click with the first, please try again. The biggest mistake I made was not clicking with a therapist and waiting 15 years to try again.
A lot of modern adult's issues come from deeply fundamentally horrid parenting, I don't know why we as a society spend so much time putting ourselves down and thinking there's something wrong with us when it's more important that we reject our parents' ways and distance ourselves to gain some clarity, and begin picking up the broken pieces they shattered. I know family's important and it's hard to separate yourself emotionally and mentally, but it's worth the effort to try. Be more critical of your family, and assert your boundaries firmly, even if that means you have to go no-contact, for a bit or even indefinitely. You can't begin the healing process if you stay around a parasite and let them trigger you. Establish whatever boundaries you need to stop getting triggered by them.
Work on yourself, overcome your fears, be kind to others. The journey ahead is long, but necessary.
Let me join the club, as I too have had a blaming and controlling parent (that can happen even to a Brazilian male like myself). I'm very insecure as a result I guess. Managed to work on it over the years (through therapy and self work - part of my current "work" on it is reading your column Heather, I love it). I'm still quite anxious, but hope to learn to enjoy my quirks as you say, rather than fear them. Have any of you guys read the book "The Highly Sensitive Person", by Elaine Aron? I related to it A LOT the 1st time I came across it. The book highlights positive aspects of being sensitive (for example, being very intuitive and having a 6th sense for things). I recommend it. Cheers from Brazil
Thanks for being here and posting, Marcelo. I think it's important to remember that most people are pretty insecure once you take them out of their comfort zone and into unfamiliar territory. In some ways, sensitive people are taken out of their comfort zone constantly because we're so tuned in to small changes in mood and atmosphere. It's important to notice how your intuition and awareness add to your stress sometimes but also make you more resilient under other kinds of existential pressure. While someone who has a more confident sheen over their day to day behaviors might appear unflappable, the people I know who face and address turmoil directly tend to be the ones who've endured a lot of emotional turbulence over the course of their lives. In my experience, the more you learn to enjoy and use the qualities you mention - emotional sensitivity, intuition, a grasp of the intricate layers of human interaction, a sensual attunement to the small pleasures of the moment - the more satisfying life becomes. Once your so-called insecurity - which could be reframed as a hunger for truth, authenticity, and deeper connections than the ones modern life tends to offer - becomes a source of happiness and delight in your life, it becomes much easier to feel proud and confident about your unique nature. Anyway, thanks again for reading and for the book suggestion! xo
It's so weird because this sounds like something I could have written about five years ago, before I started therapy. I always thought me and my mum got along super well (she'll insist we are just like the Gilmore Girls -- which I know see have the most dysfunctional relationship ever!). But then my therapist at the time started questioning exactly the things Heather points in this letter. How much I kept quiet because that's the way I'd get love in return. How much I hid my own "bad" emotions and was always cheerful and upbeat, while being used as a receptacle of all the sadness, anger, and irritation from my mum.
*TW: SELF HARM*
How, when I was 16 and wrote a suicide letter to a friend, who understandable got worried and show it to her mom, who showed it to my mom, all the acknowledgment I got was a laugh and "Every teenager is like that".
*END TW*
With time, I started seeing how much my mother was blind to my and to her own truths, and how much our "great" relationship was based on her doing and saying whatever she wanted and me being silent and going along to avoid even harsher reactions. It took me a WHILE to get to that point. I wish OP all best, and I wish their mom a lot of "get fucked".
Ooof, I'm so sorry. That "everyone feels that way" and "you're being overdramatic again" stuff is so self-protective and so damaging to a vulnerable person who's looking for help and support and validation. It boils down to "if you're making a big deal about this, that's just embarrassing" and also "the problem is you." Deeply insecure, emotionally avoidant parents have to make every problem into a laughable eye roll, because the stakes are too high for them, they're not stable, and the whole world falls apart when they simply acknowledge that something bad is happening that they might not be able to control.
I think it's important to add that people who were gaslit like a motherfucker just tend to look for *a lot* of emotional support from family and friends. As in, that's how we figure out how to feel good and secure. It's not that the world has to screech to a halt, or that we're not adults who can handle ourselves -- far from it. We're used to handling everything, in fact. But the process of figuring out how to gently lean on another person you can trust can be transformative. I guess I'm mentioning that because even though the first step with these kinds of parents is to get emotional distance, it's hard not to fixate on what was missing if you don't recognize how strong your need for connection and reassurance can be. I mean, I see a strong drive to connect as a quality, not a flaw, especially with someone who knows how to express and stand up for themselves instead of being passive aggressive or resentful about unmet needs.
Anyway yeah too much to say in general about this, not all of it related to your actual post! Bottom line, I'm sorry you went through that - it makes me sad just hearing about it. The callousness is just... ouch. It hurts to imagine how it must've felt for you. xoxox
Yeah, that process of learning to lean on someone is still very very hard for me. It's hard to even acknowledge I can *share* stuff with people and not be considered a nuisance or a bother! Most of my work with my current therapist is letting myself feel those "bad feelings" and then share them with people I trust. At first, I couldn't even cry in front of my therapist (I actually asked to close the camera during our online appointment when that happened!). I'm lucky to have found assurance with my husband and friends who when through similar stuff. But it's still hard to not default to passive-aggressiveness and resentment (that's the stuff that my family ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner growing up! lol).
I also forgot to mention something that was SOOOO revealing in OP's letter: the fact that she remembered her mom doing something hurtful that the mom didn't have any recollection of. Been there! As my husband says: "The hammer forgets, but it's the nail that gets bend."
This entire comments thread is golden, but this thought in particular struck me -- that those of us who were gaslit and manipulated by controlling people tend to look for a lot of emotional support from others. It's a frustration I have with myself, and I'm just now realizing that it's because we were raised to believe that we couldn't trust ourselves, that we just inherently didn't have the tools to thrive in the world, and that everything we did was wrong and shameful. Of *course* we learned to rely heavily on others as an adaptive result. We didn't learn how to trust ourselves enough to find tools for feeling good and secure independently, without searching for all of it in someone else. As someone who relates a lot with the LW and so many readers in this comments section, I'm still learning how to lean gently, how to connect but also (learn how to) express my needs and stand up for myself. It's tough!
I understand what you're saying about second-guessing ourselves. But I mostly mentioned needing more emotional support because in many ways I see that as a strength. It's a challenge, sure, and it doesn't align well with the wider world, where everyone is supposed to heroically handle everything on their own. But I was trying to suggest that we crave and also thrive with a lot of connection and support in our lives. That's true for most people, obviously, but it can be a fixation for us, one that leads us to denigrate ourselves for being out of step with the culture. It seems more appropriate to celebrate the fact that we have a lot of energy for bonding and connection, and to structure our lives around these values. The idea that everyone should feel secure independently is, to me, kind of a callous modern concept. We're social animals and while it's GREAT to feel secure independently, many of us crave herd life for very good reasons. It's a shame that we're so isolated from each other these days but we're meant to believe that even recognizing and/or mourning that makes us weak or abnormal.
Ah it seems I completely misunderstood your comment before! I’m so sorry about that. It may have been because I feel I still have a lot of work to do when it comes to learning how to express and stand up for myself when I do connect with others. Personally, I have a really, really strong drive to connect deeply—I spend most of my free time communicating with the people I care about, though that’s pretty much all virtual these days. In this past year and a half especially, I have cultivated a lot of meaningful friendships and deep connections. Sometimes it feels overwhelming, perhaps partly because at times it feels like it’s all I have. I live in a turbulent home environment, and I worry about where I would be if I were to lose those other relationships, which just makes me pressure myself. I could relate a lot with the LW’s upbringing, and how they internalized those messages. It seems that in an ironic twist, I’ve done the very same here by seeing things through the lens of my own shame.
So your mentioning emotional support as a strength leaves me feeling deeply moved. For so long I’ve felt shame around my loneliness and my need to lean on others, and you’ve just described it as a strength, which is shifting my perspective in a big way. Thank you for the compassion and generosity of your response. I really value how you pointed out that the act of bonding and connecting is something to be celebrated and valued. I do agree, and it seems I have a lot of work to do in unlearning the negative thoughts I have around that.
Of course this may be very different for both the LW and for Giu (and others in this thread) but in my personal journey with this, I do feel that I also need to learn how to enjoy moments of solitude more, so that I can be truly present when I connect with others— and not just scrambling to keep in touch out of a sense of fear that if I let the ball drop, people will disappear and I’ll be completely lost without them. (I am bad with boundaries and I don’t spend much alone time relaxing by myself, which often leaves me feeling burned out—but guilty if I can’t be responsive with my friends. What you said in this essay/letter about impossibly high standards, I could see in myself!). Although I suppose that’s a completely different issue altogether, and is not quite related to your statement about connection! In any case, I absolutely agree with you — as much as I do feel (a perhaps misdirected) shame whenever I do reach out for support, I can say that my friendships have given me a lot of strength, especially in this past year, living in an often turbulent home environment. You’re right—it’s natural and even beautiful for us to crave community, support, and connection.
I love how you wrote about how we emotional, sensitive, intense people are often told to shrink ourselves to fit into as little space as possible, just to be more palatable to those who may be more limited in their capacity to be in touch with their own emotions. Like LW, I used to always beat myself up for what was "wrong" with me instead of questioning my environment. Thank you for encouraging us to be our full selves in the letters you write, and to challenge the values that the world around us upholds. Feeling very seen in this letter and in these comments.❤️ I’m wishing for the best for the LW (and Giu! and everyone too).
Thanks for this nice note. I don't think you misunderstood, you were just pointing out another dimension of the picture! I know you mean about scrambling to keep in touch out of fear and doing too much until you're depleted. It's such a delicate balance that's always a little imperfect: for me that means bobbling between being too detached and giving too much/ worrying too much. Another dimension of not witnessing secure, mutual relationships as a kid! Anyway, I appreciate your words a lot. It seems like you're very aware and open and you know what you're doing, so trust yourself! xoxo
Oh god. This ending — nothing is harder than blaming everything on yourself — (I can’t quote, only paraphrase, because I’m on my phone) made me cry quietly and gloriously with relief, even though I’m almost two decades older than LW and have been on this journey for a while.
also: the sentence about your most important job as a parent, to show your child how to love and enjoy being themselves, made my parent delighted. I think I’ll write that one— or both— on my bulletin board.
LW, you are going to have a kickass life full of love and adventure. And from your writing, I can see your intelligence. What a treat to get to discover its nature exactly and celebrate it.
My parent SELF was delighted, I mean, by how you characterized the most important job of parenting. I have— like many parents— a mom imposter syndrome, especially because I don’t clean or coon well and I’ve given up on getting my loud, brilliant, obsessive little 3 yr old to eat vegetables or go to sleep before 9 or in his own bed. But I think I can offer him joy in being himself, and that when that gets hard I can recalibrate, and it’s also important and validating to hear that’s what you believe is the most important focus.
As child, mother, and as person who had a date with her husband just go wrong, I feel nourished and healed. Thank you, Polly!
I relate to a lot of this. We're all specialists, good at some things, bad at others. Those strange quirks sometimes get heavier as you get older and more people depend on you. You feel like you should be great at everything for their sake. But you still have to figure out your priorities so you can fucking relax and be who you are and enjoy it. I mean, for me... I need a lot of time and space to write well. Or, more like imaginary time and space. I have to feel like I have time and space so I can access my intelligence and my imagination. If I'm berating myself about getting organized, or trying to do something that comes easily to other people, that erodes my ability to attend to one of my two top priorities, writing. (The other is my kids and husband.)
On that note, I think understanding and simplifying your priorities can help to relax you about your other duties. If fun with your kid and connection with your spouse is at the top, you have to shove some other stuff aside and ask yourself how you get there. And you also have to say to yourself THIS IS WHAT YOU VALUE, OTHER THINGS CAN FALL BY THE WAYSIDE. We all believe that we're supposed to be good at everything these days? Wtf is that? Let's just be specialists and enjoy ourselves and let big swaths of our lives get sloppy sometimes.
Anyway, I enjoyed these comments a lot! Hang in there! oxo
4 she changed my name to a Cinderella-type nickname. No reason. Treated no one else like that. She only knew gaslighting and denial right up to her death. cowgirl
I love this advice, Polly. And for others out there experiencing similar self-doubt but whose parents never directly called them names: it happens in subtler ways too. If your parent gives you toxic positivity in response to sad feelings ("You really have so much to be lucky for! Just put one foot before the other! So many have it so much worse!") this is still reflective of their inability to be present with your feelings and to try to fix them or minimize them for their own comfort. It can have the same effect of making you believe the lies that your emotions are too much, that something is wrong with you, and that you should shrink yourself if you want to be able to connect.
Great point. Nothing feels worse when I'm feeling terrible than someone telling me to feel another way. And when you internalize those instructions and expect yourself to do battle with all of your very natural feelings of frustration, sadness, hesitation, reflection? You end up in an anxious state, trying to control your reaction to the world, shutting down all of your natural responses, and eventually blocking your ability to feel joy at all. Once you start to enjoy your emotions and you can detach from this flavor of knee-jerk positivity, it actually just looks and sounds comical. Then you can feel compassion for it, while recognizing that this parent is not the right person to go to when you're upset or down. The struggle is that when you've internalized the same message for too long, you just feel like a small, sad, negative person, instead of recognizing that these are all reactions to twisted messages you've blindly ingested for too long.
I can relate to the letter writer having grown up with a loving but ultra critical mother. However, I think I have inadvertently become a lite version of this myself towards my own children. Not so much the outright criticism but definitely the lack of boundaries and blindness caused by my own anxiety. Heather, I’d love to know what you’d write to the letter writer’s mother. I love my children so much and want so very much to be better.
I understand, it's really hard to be an anxious person with a stressful childhood and avoid bringing that to the table with your kids. The big challenge when you care a lot and you're anxious and your kid is struggling is that you tend to do too much instructing and managing and stressing in ways that make things worse. I see this all the time, and I get it because I've been in the same place. But if you're slightly wound up and negative about a kid's troubles, the kid tends to pick up on that and get even more wound up. A giant part of our jobs as parents is just to show up and model calmness and optimism in the face of stress. The ability to do that lies in forgiving yourself for being ragged and unsure, over and over again, until you really understand in your heart that you're doing your best and you'll never do everything right.
I'm sure you're doing a lot of things right. The fact that you know you have bad boundaries and you're anxious is like half of the battle.
It's reductive but we're here to enjoy our lives and enjoy our kids. Anything you do that's fun or relaxing or just companionable with your kid is helpful. Chatting about nothing, being spontaneous, and enjoying your kids quirks -- small things, every day. We tend to think that we're supposed to tell kids how to be around the clock, but as kids get older they get less and less receptive to instruction. They just want someone to talk to who doesn't turn everything they do into a lesson. I think a lot of trouble arises when we get arrogant about what a kid needs to "fix" how they are, like they're preparing to do battle out in the world and they need our harsh lessons to survive. Kids are adaptive and the more they learn to trust themselves, the more capable they feel.
I don't know, it's hard. I think the number one rule is to resist the urge to project your anxieties and needs onto your kids. The more you allow yourself room to be a flawed person, the more you'll naturally allow the same for your kids. So it all starts with forgiveness and a lot of space for everyone to be how they are without judgment.
Anyway, lots of scattered thoughts here, not very organized, but I hope some of it helps. Again, we really forget how much of parenting is about participating in life and showing your kid how much joy is out there waiting for them. It's really about looking for new ways to delight in each other's company and relish the world together. That sounds unrealistic I'm sure but sharing the things you love and getting into the things your kid loves is a lot of it. You aren't a scoutmaster, you're there to model love, confidence, relaxation and happiness. If those things feel out of reach, you have to give yourself more support and more down time so you have the energy to be a calm, loving presence in your kid's life.
But again, you're self-aware and you're full of love and concern, so I'm beyond certain that you're not doing as badly as you think! Hang in there. xo
I'm a huge fan Heather so thank you so much for taking the time to respond to my question. In recent years I've definitely been more of a scoutmaster (or at my worst, prison warden) than a companion. I used to be a really fun mother when they were younger - spontaneous, silly, funny. And then my daughter became a preteen and obsessed with her phone and YouTube, and I freaked out and waged a battle that I've been losing ever since. Your post was timely because I've been trying to change this dynamic to become a parent she wants to talk to rather than hide everything from. I've gone back into therapy, slowed down at work, and am trying really hard to empty my preoccupied brain so that I can be calmer, more present, and have more opportunities to delight in them. I'm going to print out your response and read it every morning to remind myself what is important. Thank you!
Preteen years and phones are rough for most people. If it helps, I think I was less consistently fun when my kids were younger because I was under more financial stress and hadn't sorted out what I wanted from my life yet. I also think I'm more suited to grapple with the specific challenges of older kids. Even though I can look at a lot of videos of me and my very small children laughing and goofing around and know that I spent tons of time just hanging out with them, I have some guilt about how preoccupied and bogged down by work I was in those years. And I just hadn't sorted myself out as much, so I was quicker to anger and less consistent. Just wanted to mention this because I don't think any parent gets every stage and every challenge right. Sounds like you're making some great adjustments for yourself and your kids. Just don't forget that it's also about your happiness, and that modeling happiness for your kids is a huge gift that stays with them much more than any instructions you give them.
Thank you for the reminder to nurture my own happiness too. BTW, my girlfriends and I are huge Polly fans and your words on dating and romance continue to help us navigate the shit show of dating in our 40s. If you ever make it to Sydney, Australia again and want a night out, drinks are on us!
I love Sydney and I will take you up on that!
A note to the letter writer: you might consider undergoing testing for neurodivergence (most commonly ADHD or autism, but there are other conditions under that umbrella). I am not a medical doctor, and I'm not sure if that type of advice is even allowed here, but as a neurodivergent myself I notice a lot of similarities while reading your letter.
It obviously doesn't change any of the validity of what you're saying, or the quality/utility of Polly's reply, but if it's not something you're aware of, and it turns out to be good advice, you will likely find that it can help many things in many ways.
Agree! I don't like to go out on a limb with diagnoses because there's already so much to grapple with here, but I think a therapist would be very helpful on this front as well!
I interested in why you suggested this for myself. Can you explain a little more?
As a neurodivergent person myself, I think of it like this--there is a rainbow of different kinds of people in the world. Some people have brains that work a little bit differently than other people's brains. (NOT better or worse, JUST different!) And certain neurotypes (often people labeled as ADHD or autism) have certain tendencies in common. It really helps me to get life advice from people who have similar kinds of brains as me, because that advice is usually more useful and applicable than advice meant for the general public.
Most people would guess that if someone is verbally articulate and has formal, logical speech patterns, but also has difficulty/stress/awkwardness in social situations, that they should be screened for Autism. There are some other signs too, like physical tics/fidgets and sensory sensitivity to sound, smells, textures, lights, etc. And a LOT of autistic people feel like they have to hide their true selves in order to be accepted by other people (we call it "masking") If you do find out that you're on the autism spectrum, that can be a wonderful sense of freedom, because you can put a name to some of the things you've been feeling. Plus, there's lots of great support and help out there for people like us. :-)
The genes for Autism and ADHD do run in families, and I think what Polly says is very poignant and true--if your mother also had neurodivergent traits but was scolded and blamed for them, she probably developed a negative view of the world and a harsh inner critic that she is passing on to you. :-( But if you can learn to accept and embrace your quirky, weird, and awkward traits, then you can start making friends with other people who are quirky, weird and awkward. And then you can form neurodiverse friendships of mutual support and admiration. :-)
Seems like you've already gotten tested, so good on you. I'd say the biggest things that jumped out at me (and again I AM NOT A MEDICAL DOCTOR) are:
1. Difficulty maintaining eye contact. Noticed that one right away.
2. Repeated references to being "sensitive." Often this is legitimately neurological and simply knowing that can be so relief-giving, regardless of treatments sought.
3. A clear desire to bin, sort, and appropriately react to social situations as if they are a logical puzzle to solve rather than just messy-ass people doing messy-ass shit without a goddamn clue (which is more accurate).
4. Having (at least) one Boomer parent who seems categorically incapable of raising children, but simultaneously cripplingly beholden to the Boomer Ideal of Having Children When You Just Really, Actually Shouldn't. In fact, having a parent who so obviously, objectively *shouldn't* have had children, but went right a-goddamn-head and did so anyway for one dumb reason or another, might one day turn out to be the best tell of neurodivergence of all.
To the LW and Sophie, being on the parenting side of someone who is neurodivergent, one can fall into the habit of being a harsher and more critical parent than you want to be, you can start to try and “change” you child to “protect” them from the criticism of the world. This can become a way of loving them, that is not at all loving, rather than doing the more vulnerable thing of trying to make the world a more welcoming place for your child. This pattern can also be acted out by a neurodivergent parent, I not firmly believe this was much of the root of my own mother’s constant negativity and criticism, especially towards my sibling. That said however your brain works the key is the same, know and love yourself because that is the minimum you deserve in this world.
Thank you for these comments. Couldn't agree more that getting a test can be very affirming for some.
I was actually tested, and found to have ADHD, when I was in primary school. I never felt ADHD fit, and I took this as shame.
Both of my parents were largely emotionally unaware people (this took a very long time to realise with the help of a therapist) who were trying their hardest. Unlike my father, my mother was very critical (a high achieving perfectionist). Much like the mother in this article, she was terrified of emotions and wanted to make me a resilient person (read: vulnerability is dangerous). She would tell me that my anger and sadness (which were pretty run of the mill) were because of my diagnosis. This is probably what a lot of well meaning/misguided parents say to their kids with ADHD as an attempt to make them self aware. I felt my emotions weren't valid.
When I was 18 I saved up so I could take another test. They told me I was neurotypical, and I guessed some people grew out of ADHD. In the full report they said that the testing had changed so much over the decade that they would never call my original results neurodivergent. In fact, they said it was unrigorous to do that at the time. This had a profound impact on me. Obviously, this is because the diagnosis was used to undermine me and it didn't line up with my experience of the world.
It's so interesting to see your perspectives on how the diagnosis helped you. Thanks for sharing. I still struggle with the idea of how to approach this kind of label because, as you say, all our emotions are valid anyway — even the "neurotypical" are part of the rainbow.
Thanks for your words Heather and LW, I have found them very relatable and provoking.
Hoo boy. My mother often reacted to me in severely judgmental and undermining ways (e.g., every time I was upset or sad she asked, “are you getting your period?”) and it took me until my late 30s to recognize that she is an extremely anxious person who cannot handle her own turbulent emotions, and that the emotions and responses that she pathologized my whole life due to her own discomfort were just…normal human feelings. After a lot of therapy, I see all of this clearly, but when I am stressed/worn down, my fear of fucking up manifests itself into horrible intrusive thoughts that take that fear to its extreme (the post-lockdown version is that I will end up in prison for something terrible but unspecified— which is very similar to fears I had as a young kid).
Everything you said about relaxing and learning to love and be loved…it’s still so hard for me not to constantly be *working*—on myself, at my job, on my relationship, on my friendships. The thinking part of my brain knows where all of this comes from and what it is, but the sad, scared girl inside of me really kicks up a fuss when I feel threatened or afraid. Giving myself now what I needed then is the only way through, but it still is a real learning curve.
Excited for this person to learn in college what I didn't learn until I was like 30+!
This letter triggered me. I stopped speaking to my family, my mother especially, in my 30s. It saved my life. But mother sought out ppl I went to grammar school with (50 years ago) and asked them if they had spoken to me and why was I so mean to her when she loved me so much. The gaslighting, the alcoholism. Both my sisters believe my mother hung the moon and I'm an ungrateful, mean, nasty bitch. I'm in my 60s and still dealing with it.
I'm sorry! This sounds awful. It's amazing when the entire family "agrees" to treat their system as "normal" and anyone who notices that the emperor has not clothes (and is drunk! and manipulative!) is cast out. There's no way to address reality with the people involved. I can't imagine how difficult that must be for you.
I'm wishing lots of love to you.
Ah totally relate. My father used to literally leave the room shaking his head in disgust as soon as I started crying while he yelled about my mistakes or personal flaws (lmao!). By some miracle I found a partner who was secure in his emotions and didn’t leave when I cried but pulled me close instead. This shattered my worldview (!) and eventually led me to pursue therapy as I realized that my ideas about emotions meaning I was pathetic were perhaps…. Untrue.
LW: Allow for the possibility, the smallest possibility, that your ideas about your badness are wrong. You don’t have to fully reject them now— a slight loosening of your grip on them is a fantastic leap toward healing.
LW: Girl, same.
Therapy was the greatest gift I've ever given myself. If you don't click with the first, please try again. The biggest mistake I made was not clicking with a therapist and waiting 15 years to try again.
A lot of modern adult's issues come from deeply fundamentally horrid parenting, I don't know why we as a society spend so much time putting ourselves down and thinking there's something wrong with us when it's more important that we reject our parents' ways and distance ourselves to gain some clarity, and begin picking up the broken pieces they shattered. I know family's important and it's hard to separate yourself emotionally and mentally, but it's worth the effort to try. Be more critical of your family, and assert your boundaries firmly, even if that means you have to go no-contact, for a bit or even indefinitely. You can't begin the healing process if you stay around a parasite and let them trigger you. Establish whatever boundaries you need to stop getting triggered by them.
Work on yourself, overcome your fears, be kind to others. The journey ahead is long, but necessary.
Let me join the club, as I too have had a blaming and controlling parent (that can happen even to a Brazilian male like myself). I'm very insecure as a result I guess. Managed to work on it over the years (through therapy and self work - part of my current "work" on it is reading your column Heather, I love it). I'm still quite anxious, but hope to learn to enjoy my quirks as you say, rather than fear them. Have any of you guys read the book "The Highly Sensitive Person", by Elaine Aron? I related to it A LOT the 1st time I came across it. The book highlights positive aspects of being sensitive (for example, being very intuitive and having a 6th sense for things). I recommend it. Cheers from Brazil
Thanks for being here and posting, Marcelo. I think it's important to remember that most people are pretty insecure once you take them out of their comfort zone and into unfamiliar territory. In some ways, sensitive people are taken out of their comfort zone constantly because we're so tuned in to small changes in mood and atmosphere. It's important to notice how your intuition and awareness add to your stress sometimes but also make you more resilient under other kinds of existential pressure. While someone who has a more confident sheen over their day to day behaviors might appear unflappable, the people I know who face and address turmoil directly tend to be the ones who've endured a lot of emotional turbulence over the course of their lives. In my experience, the more you learn to enjoy and use the qualities you mention - emotional sensitivity, intuition, a grasp of the intricate layers of human interaction, a sensual attunement to the small pleasures of the moment - the more satisfying life becomes. Once your so-called insecurity - which could be reframed as a hunger for truth, authenticity, and deeper connections than the ones modern life tends to offer - becomes a source of happiness and delight in your life, it becomes much easier to feel proud and confident about your unique nature. Anyway, thanks again for reading and for the book suggestion! xo
It's so weird because this sounds like something I could have written about five years ago, before I started therapy. I always thought me and my mum got along super well (she'll insist we are just like the Gilmore Girls -- which I know see have the most dysfunctional relationship ever!). But then my therapist at the time started questioning exactly the things Heather points in this letter. How much I kept quiet because that's the way I'd get love in return. How much I hid my own "bad" emotions and was always cheerful and upbeat, while being used as a receptacle of all the sadness, anger, and irritation from my mum.
*TW: SELF HARM*
How, when I was 16 and wrote a suicide letter to a friend, who understandable got worried and show it to her mom, who showed it to my mom, all the acknowledgment I got was a laugh and "Every teenager is like that".
*END TW*
With time, I started seeing how much my mother was blind to my and to her own truths, and how much our "great" relationship was based on her doing and saying whatever she wanted and me being silent and going along to avoid even harsher reactions. It took me a WHILE to get to that point. I wish OP all best, and I wish their mom a lot of "get fucked".
Ooof, I'm so sorry. That "everyone feels that way" and "you're being overdramatic again" stuff is so self-protective and so damaging to a vulnerable person who's looking for help and support and validation. It boils down to "if you're making a big deal about this, that's just embarrassing" and also "the problem is you." Deeply insecure, emotionally avoidant parents have to make every problem into a laughable eye roll, because the stakes are too high for them, they're not stable, and the whole world falls apart when they simply acknowledge that something bad is happening that they might not be able to control.
I think it's important to add that people who were gaslit like a motherfucker just tend to look for *a lot* of emotional support from family and friends. As in, that's how we figure out how to feel good and secure. It's not that the world has to screech to a halt, or that we're not adults who can handle ourselves -- far from it. We're used to handling everything, in fact. But the process of figuring out how to gently lean on another person you can trust can be transformative. I guess I'm mentioning that because even though the first step with these kinds of parents is to get emotional distance, it's hard not to fixate on what was missing if you don't recognize how strong your need for connection and reassurance can be. I mean, I see a strong drive to connect as a quality, not a flaw, especially with someone who knows how to express and stand up for themselves instead of being passive aggressive or resentful about unmet needs.
Anyway yeah too much to say in general about this, not all of it related to your actual post! Bottom line, I'm sorry you went through that - it makes me sad just hearing about it. The callousness is just... ouch. It hurts to imagine how it must've felt for you. xoxox
Yeah, that process of learning to lean on someone is still very very hard for me. It's hard to even acknowledge I can *share* stuff with people and not be considered a nuisance or a bother! Most of my work with my current therapist is letting myself feel those "bad feelings" and then share them with people I trust. At first, I couldn't even cry in front of my therapist (I actually asked to close the camera during our online appointment when that happened!). I'm lucky to have found assurance with my husband and friends who when through similar stuff. But it's still hard to not default to passive-aggressiveness and resentment (that's the stuff that my family ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner growing up! lol).
I also forgot to mention something that was SOOOO revealing in OP's letter: the fact that she remembered her mom doing something hurtful that the mom didn't have any recollection of. Been there! As my husband says: "The hammer forgets, but it's the nail that gets bend."
This entire comments thread is golden, but this thought in particular struck me -- that those of us who were gaslit and manipulated by controlling people tend to look for a lot of emotional support from others. It's a frustration I have with myself, and I'm just now realizing that it's because we were raised to believe that we couldn't trust ourselves, that we just inherently didn't have the tools to thrive in the world, and that everything we did was wrong and shameful. Of *course* we learned to rely heavily on others as an adaptive result. We didn't learn how to trust ourselves enough to find tools for feeling good and secure independently, without searching for all of it in someone else. As someone who relates a lot with the LW and so many readers in this comments section, I'm still learning how to lean gently, how to connect but also (learn how to) express my needs and stand up for myself. It's tough!
I understand what you're saying about second-guessing ourselves. But I mostly mentioned needing more emotional support because in many ways I see that as a strength. It's a challenge, sure, and it doesn't align well with the wider world, where everyone is supposed to heroically handle everything on their own. But I was trying to suggest that we crave and also thrive with a lot of connection and support in our lives. That's true for most people, obviously, but it can be a fixation for us, one that leads us to denigrate ourselves for being out of step with the culture. It seems more appropriate to celebrate the fact that we have a lot of energy for bonding and connection, and to structure our lives around these values. The idea that everyone should feel secure independently is, to me, kind of a callous modern concept. We're social animals and while it's GREAT to feel secure independently, many of us crave herd life for very good reasons. It's a shame that we're so isolated from each other these days but we're meant to believe that even recognizing and/or mourning that makes us weak or abnormal.
Ah it seems I completely misunderstood your comment before! I’m so sorry about that. It may have been because I feel I still have a lot of work to do when it comes to learning how to express and stand up for myself when I do connect with others. Personally, I have a really, really strong drive to connect deeply—I spend most of my free time communicating with the people I care about, though that’s pretty much all virtual these days. In this past year and a half especially, I have cultivated a lot of meaningful friendships and deep connections. Sometimes it feels overwhelming, perhaps partly because at times it feels like it’s all I have. I live in a turbulent home environment, and I worry about where I would be if I were to lose those other relationships, which just makes me pressure myself. I could relate a lot with the LW’s upbringing, and how they internalized those messages. It seems that in an ironic twist, I’ve done the very same here by seeing things through the lens of my own shame.
So your mentioning emotional support as a strength leaves me feeling deeply moved. For so long I’ve felt shame around my loneliness and my need to lean on others, and you’ve just described it as a strength, which is shifting my perspective in a big way. Thank you for the compassion and generosity of your response. I really value how you pointed out that the act of bonding and connecting is something to be celebrated and valued. I do agree, and it seems I have a lot of work to do in unlearning the negative thoughts I have around that.
Of course this may be very different for both the LW and for Giu (and others in this thread) but in my personal journey with this, I do feel that I also need to learn how to enjoy moments of solitude more, so that I can be truly present when I connect with others— and not just scrambling to keep in touch out of a sense of fear that if I let the ball drop, people will disappear and I’ll be completely lost without them. (I am bad with boundaries and I don’t spend much alone time relaxing by myself, which often leaves me feeling burned out—but guilty if I can’t be responsive with my friends. What you said in this essay/letter about impossibly high standards, I could see in myself!). Although I suppose that’s a completely different issue altogether, and is not quite related to your statement about connection! In any case, I absolutely agree with you — as much as I do feel (a perhaps misdirected) shame whenever I do reach out for support, I can say that my friendships have given me a lot of strength, especially in this past year, living in an often turbulent home environment. You’re right—it’s natural and even beautiful for us to crave community, support, and connection.
I love how you wrote about how we emotional, sensitive, intense people are often told to shrink ourselves to fit into as little space as possible, just to be more palatable to those who may be more limited in their capacity to be in touch with their own emotions. Like LW, I used to always beat myself up for what was "wrong" with me instead of questioning my environment. Thank you for encouraging us to be our full selves in the letters you write, and to challenge the values that the world around us upholds. Feeling very seen in this letter and in these comments.❤️ I’m wishing for the best for the LW (and Giu! and everyone too).
Thanks for this nice note. I don't think you misunderstood, you were just pointing out another dimension of the picture! I know you mean about scrambling to keep in touch out of fear and doing too much until you're depleted. It's such a delicate balance that's always a little imperfect: for me that means bobbling between being too detached and giving too much/ worrying too much. Another dimension of not witnessing secure, mutual relationships as a kid! Anyway, I appreciate your words a lot. It seems like you're very aware and open and you know what you're doing, so trust yourself! xoxo
Oh god. This ending — nothing is harder than blaming everything on yourself — (I can’t quote, only paraphrase, because I’m on my phone) made me cry quietly and gloriously with relief, even though I’m almost two decades older than LW and have been on this journey for a while.
also: the sentence about your most important job as a parent, to show your child how to love and enjoy being themselves, made my parent delighted. I think I’ll write that one— or both— on my bulletin board.
LW, you are going to have a kickass life full of love and adventure. And from your writing, I can see your intelligence. What a treat to get to discover its nature exactly and celebrate it.
My parent SELF was delighted, I mean, by how you characterized the most important job of parenting. I have— like many parents— a mom imposter syndrome, especially because I don’t clean or coon well and I’ve given up on getting my loud, brilliant, obsessive little 3 yr old to eat vegetables or go to sleep before 9 or in his own bed. But I think I can offer him joy in being himself, and that when that gets hard I can recalibrate, and it’s also important and validating to hear that’s what you believe is the most important focus.
As child, mother, and as person who had a date with her husband just go wrong, I feel nourished and healed. Thank you, Polly!
Clean or COOK well. Jesus!
I relate to a lot of this. We're all specialists, good at some things, bad at others. Those strange quirks sometimes get heavier as you get older and more people depend on you. You feel like you should be great at everything for their sake. But you still have to figure out your priorities so you can fucking relax and be who you are and enjoy it. I mean, for me... I need a lot of time and space to write well. Or, more like imaginary time and space. I have to feel like I have time and space so I can access my intelligence and my imagination. If I'm berating myself about getting organized, or trying to do something that comes easily to other people, that erodes my ability to attend to one of my two top priorities, writing. (The other is my kids and husband.)
On that note, I think understanding and simplifying your priorities can help to relax you about your other duties. If fun with your kid and connection with your spouse is at the top, you have to shove some other stuff aside and ask yourself how you get there. And you also have to say to yourself THIS IS WHAT YOU VALUE, OTHER THINGS CAN FALL BY THE WAYSIDE. We all believe that we're supposed to be good at everything these days? Wtf is that? Let's just be specialists and enjoy ourselves and let big swaths of our lives get sloppy sometimes.
Anyway, I enjoyed these comments a lot! Hang in there! oxo
Letter writer, take this all to heart. Everything she said is true, I promise (sincerely, a 28 year-old bb who was once in very similar shoes).
*and still tries them on from time to time
I wish I could give the writer a long, long, long hug.
4 she changed my name to a Cinderella-type nickname. No reason. Treated no one else like that. She only knew gaslighting and denial right up to her death. cowgirl
Great answer Polly. Best wishes to you LW. I was raised by the same mother. When I