Forgiving Your Absent Parent
The Absent Parent Effect:
Feeling robbed after losing a parent is one of the hardest feelings to shake. It's like at any given time someone or something can come in and rob you of the other parent you have left, or the sense of sanity and stability you've been slowly working on and building. It's a feeling that comes in and haunts you. It tries to break you. Over, and over, and over again, as if the experience were a horrific record on repeat. You feel helpless and empty inside because you’ve cried out your feelings. There is nothing left on the inside, and when you do find something, it’s ire. That’s all that is there, anger. Anger that grows because you’ve been trying to convince yourself that there's nothing you could have done and understand just how small you are in this great big world of life. It's such a painful time that navigating through life seems not only impossible but also unreal. Wondering how is this supposed to happen? Life that is. How is it supposed to go on? It goes on? You're in a haze of disbelief and a whole heap of pain that you were never prepared to deal with. I think the hardest part of it all is holding onto your identity throughout the tragedy. Not letting yourself become these hopeless and helpless circumstances that life’s bestowed upon you. The hardest part was to keep going; all the while I was bearing the deepest pain imaginable, with a smile on my face so people didn’t pity me. That was my biggest battle, showing people a life of mine that they didn’t have to pity.
My dad died when I was eleven years old. After he died, this insurmountable feeling of despair and hopelessness took over. I grew cold thinking that if I had no feelings; it would be easier to move along through life. That the pain and hopelessness I was feeling would numb itself away. Surprisingly enough, I was only led to more anger and frustration. For a long time, I struggled to try to figure out why me? Why did MY dad have to be born in 1933? Why did he have to be so old? I was convinced that if he wasn't an older dad, that when he got sick he would have had more time here. More importantly, I would have had more time with him. My teenage years were filled with anguish and rage. Angry at life because I had lost my stable parent and frustrated because who was I supposed to learn from? Your parents are your first teachers. My dad taught me just about everything. Or at least that's what I'd like to think (lol). He was my first and favorite teacher. I never thought of anything the same after he passed. I lost any true love for hobbies that I had. I would only allow myself to attach to certain things so much. I had always wanted my dad to teach me everything. In my eyes, he knew it all. He had all the solutions to all my childhood problems. Not just the trivial ones like what name I was going to give my newest Barbie doll. Ones that I didn't think I would have prepared myself for without him like for instance, my relationship with my mother. She wasn't around. While I'm sure she wanted to be, she just wasn't. She bought me tons of material stuff but never spent time with me. Even at a young age, I knew this behavior wasn’t right and I remember dreading the weekends and any time I had to spend at my mothers. I dreaded it because she never showed up to pick me up from my Aunts’ houses. I’d get dropped off at an Aunt’s house and then essentially be stuck there. My dad never came to get me no matter how much I begged either. I had to stay the entire weekend with my mom’s side of the family, whether I wanted to, or not. I didn't know how to confide in my siblings about the struggles I had with our mom. I honestly didn't even know they had faced similar struggles until we were much older. My mom’s absence was always glossed over or excused. It was so flagrantly and frequently excused that I remember being a kid and being very intolerant of her behavior vividly. I remember the arguments with my aunts about me not excusing her and them telling me I had to be nice because she was my mother. I think that was my least favorite phrase ever – “because she’s your mom”. It’s such a short and empty answer. It does absolutely nothing to negate the neglect or mistreatment. It just made me angrier. The phrase is one that you’re told and it’s supposed to excuse all bad behaviors, but it overlooks the responsibility that a mother has to her child. A child that never asked to be born. So for that reason, coupled with a few other reasons I struggled to have a relationship with my mother – and for a long time, I thought I was the reason why. Having my dad there to reinforce that there was nothing wrong with me and just explain that sometimes people made poor decisions and we had to forgive them for their mistakes was probably the most vital part of my childhood survival. I am so grateful he taught me that young. I believe it made it easier to accept and forgive my mom, as I got older. Though when I was younger, I didn’t care to forgive her. I didn’t care to feel after my dad died. Emotionally I was already void because of the emptiness my mom created. Losing my dad turned me into a black hole devoid of emotion. I compared everything to the loss of him. I faced life by telling myself if I could lose my dad, the most important person to me ever, then no one and nothing else truly mattered or compared. I lived life essentially just waiting to die so I could see my dad again. I didn't want to go through life without him and I never wanted to outlive the time I had with him.
There were so many milestones in life that I didn't realize would feel and look different. Physically, I didn't and wouldn't ever get to have my dad at my middle school graduation, high school graduation, quince, sweet 16, 18th birthday, college acceptance day, 21st birthday, or anything else that happens after your eleventh year of life. All of these life experiences that I was having and all of the new ones that were yet to come, would all be without my dad. I knew that when he died. I understood death in the sense that it means the person is physically no longer there. I didn't understand how a lack of physical presence would haunt me though. I never prepared myself for the empty feeling. Not that I could have, but if you know me, you know that's something I would have tried to do if I could have. I understood death and I understood he was gone, but I didn't realize I would leave with him. I spent a lot of my life being numb and empty but not telling people that's how I felt. I felt like I couldn't. You're just expected to keep living life no matter how hard it gets, and you're supposed to do it with a smile. Especially as a child. It’s like you’re expected to always be happy as a kid, and never really have a serious reason to frown. Even though your world has already crumpled to pieces and while there's still life, it's mostly meaningless. Or at least it seems that way in the beginning. We put out a fake happiness and joy instead of frowning as if there's something wrong with you if you're not smiling. I allowed myself to be empty for many years after my dad died, filling my life with superficialities because I was too scared to love someone or something the way I loved my dad. I went through a lot of things that I would have LOVED to have had my dad around for. My first time dating, my first time getting heartbroken, my first time not doing well in school, my first failed idea that I was confident would work. All of those things were going to happen and did happen without him, and it hurt. I was going through life in a state of regret almost. I would be excited about new experiences but also dread them. It was as if all the experiences I was having didn't mean anything. I traveled the globe and volunteered my time helping orphans, and that was the most filled I had been. Coming home and realizing I wouldn't ever get to show my dad the photos I took, or ask him for critiques sucked. It made my heart grow colder and even more disconnected. I vapidly dated men, knowing I wasn't allowing any of them to get but so close to me, just because. I didn’t want to be close to them. A lot of the time I just used them for sexual and emotional voids that I desperately wanted to fill. Actively ignoring that the problem was me and my eleven-year-old broken heart. No one was ever going to compare to him and I had to stop going through life secretly comparing everything and everyone to him to prevent myself from feeling too deeply. I have always been a pessimist. I remember telling my stepmom I was a pessimist and her looking sort of shocked. She didn’t quite believe me then. I think it’s because I was around 8 or 9 years old.
Being forced to grow up because you lose a parent is one of the hardest things someone can go through in life. I truly feel that no matter how old you get, losing a parent sucks. You never quite feel like you got enough time or knowledge from their experiences to take with you in your own life, no matter what age you are. It's always much worse when you're a kid. There are experiences you know you'll never get to share with that parent. People that you'll never get to introduce them to. Questions you'll never get to ask, and advice you'll never receive. I lost my dad when I was 11 years old. It was summertime and it was the worst summer I've ever had. I felt empty. I felt weird. I felt misunderstood. These are all feelings that angsty pre-teens go through, but usually, those feelings aren't on top of the loss of a parent. Coupled with my age, it really did seem like the world had just ended. The world I knew and was most comfortable with had died. My dad was my world. He was my escape and there were so many things that came with him to create the safe and happy space I had grown accustomed to. I would like to say that it gets easier and you move on but I would be lying. Life only gets harder. The only part of it that gets easier, is dealing with the amount of time that you've had feeling this way. The more time goes on, the easier it is to manage the feelings because you're more used to them. It doesn't get easier though. Days are still hard and the love is still physically gone. There are easy moments but as you get older the experiences that come your way are a lot tougher. I think this is mostly because of age and what comes with being of a certain age. You get more responsibility, as you get older. You get less time to cry and be a kid. On top of already feeling like you were robbed of childhood.
My childhood was never easy. I have always worked extra hard to make it seem otherwise because the stress and trauma have always been really hard for me to accept and move past. Starting with trying to figure out a relationship with a woman who seemingly wanted nothing to do with me. My time with my mom was always limited. Not because she wasn't allowed to have me or anything like that, but because she just didn't want to spend the time with me. She had money to make and streets to run. So that's what she did. Money before kids, to take care of the kids. It didn't make sense to me as a kid, but I fully understand it now. My mom's a hustler. How she puts food on the table and provides for my siblings and me, looks very different than most other parents. Including my dad. I never put the pieces of my traumatic experiences as a child with the anxieties I have as an adult, together, until fairly recently. Sleepless nights spent waiting for a parent to come to pick you up from a home that you know isn't yours. Flashbacks of molestation and confusion about who was wrong and who was right, even though a mere six and seven years old couldn't ever make that type of decision. Not wanting to be touched because your mother wasn't there to soothe your pains, so you'd rather be in pain. Abandonment issues because your parents both leave you. One because they were sick and died, the other because they too were sick. Not the same kind of sick though. Sick with depression and sick with cancer is different. I felt abandoned as a kid. My dad would drop me off at my aunt's and my mom would rarely show up. If she did, it was after midnight, and usually, we'd go to the 24-hour grocery store and go food shopping. Most nights she didn't come through. Most nights I spent calling and asking to speak to her, only to get the tail end of a "tell her I'm not here". I'd call again later on. I think even my aunt grew tired of watching me hopelessly dial the phone and waiting to be disappointed because sometimes she just didn't give me the phone. I don't blame her though. There's only so many times a human being can watch a mom neglect their child and not feel obligated to intervene in their way. My relationship with my mom was so strange and hard to explain to people. Mostly because everyone had this idea that my stepmom was my mom - or that my mom gave me up for adoption - or something along those lines that hinted at me not knowing who she was or having a relationship with her. No person wants to have to explain over and over again that that's not the case, contrary to popular belief. Let alone have to defend your mother's actions to strangers. It was easier if no one knew I had a mother and a whole family with who I had a tumultuous relationship. Mostly because I didn't want anyone to know and judge her; and then judge me. I hated being pitied, so I didn’t share many details of my life, to avoid the inevitable pity party. I also protect my mother fiercely and don’t like it when strangers misunderstand and prejudge her. My mother was heartbroken too. Long before I was. She had years of heartbreak from not just my dad but her mother. I didn't know that as a child so I couldn't explain that to people she didn't know.
The Journey of Forgiveness:
In my journey of forgiveness, I think my relationship with my mom is what I’m most proud of today. We have come such a long way. I want people to know that it’s possible to not only forgive but also to love your parents even after they’ve hurt you. It’s so important to have a relationship and be able to communicate with them -- or at the very least, have a basic understanding of them. Do not cut them out of your life because you’re too hurt to confront them and deal with it head-on. As scary as it sounds, be sure that you confront them. Do it in a way that works best for you. I dead ass wrote my mom an email. I was 16 years old and I addressed virtually all of the problems I had with our relationship at the time. Sis wasn’t happy with me at all and we didn’t speak for over a year. So when I or other people tell you that I’m cold, it's true. I have always been a proponent of cutting toxicity out of your life, no matter who the culprit and driving force is. I didn't care that she was my mom. Mom didn’t give her the title to hurt me continuously and I was to just sit there and accept it. It gave her a responsibility to do right by not just herself but her children as well. I have and will always hold her feet to the fire in that regard. My relationship with my mom has always been the most vulnerable area of my life. I feel like it's always been my weak spot because it's always been hard. That is until now. As a kid, I kept this part of my life so deep down and out of sight for people who didn't know my mom's family. There are people I’ve met in life who have NO idea what my life looks like. Only what they’ve seen on a certain day. It was a part of my life that I didn't want to share because it was painful and it hurt. I didn't want to have to explain to people that I had a mom and that I was supposed to spend time with her but I didn't. So instead I just didn't speak about it. I allowed people to believe what they wanted to believe about me. For me, it was much easier to be silently hurting than to be publicly vulnerable. I’m sharing all of this to hopefully help someone else who is drowning in their life's despair. I have learned that it’s not easier to be silent. You don’t have to be silent and you don’t have to hurt. You also don’t have to die to feel better. It’s possible to wake up and feel good in the morning. It takes a lot of soul searching and a lot of confrontation with yourself, but it’s more than possible. I cannot stress the importance of healing your relationship with your parents enough. You have to know them to know you. You are half of each of them. If you have the opportunity to know and forgive your parents, always choose to get to know them. I say this mostly to stress that you need to have forgiveness in yourself. I think when you forgive your parents for the wounds they caused you that it's then easier to forgive yourself for the wounds you caused. Know that forgiveness looks different for everyone. The most important part is to get there. Life after forgiveness looks different too. Forgiveness doesn't by default mean you are obligated to have a relationship. Forge relationships with people you've had to forgive when you're ready or don't. You are in charge of how much time you spend with people. You dictate the rules, and if you want to allow someone toxic to be involved, you can and should do it on your terms. Life throws so many wrenches your way and it is filled with surprises. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you’ll find it’s much easier to navigate with a sound understanding of your parents. It has helped me tremendously to know my mom and why she makes certain choices by finding out more about her life. I can understand her mindset a lot more because I understand her conditions and surroundings. Her life is a reflection of her childhood and her life's experiences. Knowing what I now know about my mom, helped me to understand the things that were messed up in my childhood. I can only hope to learn and use this information in my life's growth. I can use it to break unhealthy cycles that started when my mom was a child. I can use my experiences to make sure I don't make the same mistakes in motherhood. Healing my relationship with my mom has been a long and hard journey. It took me a long time to recognize that I had to actively decide that I want to have a positive relationship with her. I couldn't just hold her feet to the fire but not be willing to work on myself and my attitude. You can't go into relationships with a shitty attitude and expect the other person to do all of the work. That's the hard part about forgiveness. Your attitude has to reflect the sentiment as well.
Spend time this year cultivating relationships that are about your personal growth. Spending time getting to know my mom was one of my best decisions ever. I have found myself in a much more peaceful and lighter space because of it. Heal your wounds and find your inner peace. If you need help or advice along the way, reach out to me. If you need a listening ear and don’t even need responses, I’m still here for you.
- Digital Dashh