But not enough to wear this t-shirt
I like to believe nobody has a perfect relationship with their parents, but at 35 I’m wondering when my relationship will shift from the constant power play to one of harmony and trust. I’ve done the transactional analysis on it and stopped accepting the role of child in our relationship. Changing actions and attitudes is one thing, changing the accompanying feelings built up over a lifetime is another thing.
I have been asked to tell all about my general election run earlier this year and eventually I will get round to developing a coherent singular voice about it; what I can articulate now is the huge pressure and fear that enveloped me as soon as I got my papers in my hand, and also how liberating moving past that fear was.
Should I start by telling how I sobbed in the shower every morning so that I could be an emotional stone when I read what trolls on the internet wrote about me? But it was my father’s initial response which hurt the most. I told him what I was about to embark upon and his face darkened with a look that I knew too well, the look I that greeted report cards or pregnancy or partners or breastfeeding, oh yes, my dad can be disappointed in all manner of choices I’ve made. And while I did not storm off, as I am likely to do when faced with that look, it still hurts. ‘We are a Fianna Fail family, you cannot do that’ was his eventual spluttered response when he regained enough composure to answer me. I need not tell you I found this assertion ‘objectionable’ and quite possibly the most succinct rationale for the state of Irish politics I could muster. You are your parents’ child and you shall do as they did, for this family’s very identity is tied to a party. I won’t bore you with the rest of the conversation; suffice to say I left him to ponder what he had done to deserve such an offspring as myself.
They did eventually see the light in my decision, but the fear of my parents’ disappointment has been an anchor round my neck for long enough. In the last six months I’ve changed a great many things in my life, and I feel empowered to do just about any damn thing I feel like, but there’s always been that little niggle, that little deference to the two people who love me more than anything but simply refuse to let me go. I understand, I was a terrible teenager, I was headstrong and pigheaded and they tried to control me ‘for my own good’, but somehow that got corrupted into being not good enough. So my actions were never good enough, and I was never good enough, and a lifetime of emotional headfucks were born. For no matter how far I come in showing them my competence and abilities, it is short-lived and there is always the threat that at some stage we will all be regaled at Christmas dinner with tales of how Ann got suspended or some other fantastic mistake that befell me. If only they know of all the other mistakes that I treasure, the terrible events and nights that I want to forget, the places that I would never allow them to go for fear that it would break their hearts.
I told them last week I finished my psychology degree with a 1:1, the highest in the class and the only clean A1 on my thesis. I believe the correct term for their reaction is ‘meh’. My mother sent me a text message where she thanked god I passed, for after all it was god that sat my exams and did my stats, my father looked up and said ‘oh is that good?’ because apparently top of my class is too relative a description. After 4 years of juggling work and study and a family meh, only person in my either of my parents families with a degree, meh, top of my class, meh.
My psychology degree did achieve its end, I understand the situation from a variety of perspectives, it’s given me enough confidence and power to say ‘meh’ back to them. If what I achieved is not good enough then nothing really will be, and the problem is theirs not mine. It still hurts, I can honestly say their reaction ruined my day, but at least it was just a day, not a week or a month as it would have been previously. So as I am now about to grow the hell up, I’ve booked that tattoo; they’re not going to like it, but I will. I love my parents and I know they love me, but I can no longer allow myself to feel as much as they demand of me through manipulation of guilt. My son’s coming up to that age when it was easier hide things than share them with parents, and while I give him space I’m still awestruck when he says ‘mam, I need to talk’ and spills about any manner of problem. I feel like I have moved past them by parenting a different way, without expectations, without ever using the dreaded ‘I’m disappointed in you’ because I never am. I might get cross, I might get stroppy but I will never be let down. Anger passes, but guilt hurts more, and lasts longer. I choose not to parent through guilt, and even if somebody else wants to continue to play that game with me, I am choosing not to play it anymore.
Great post Ann. Couldn’t have expressed it better myself. I generally get the guilt trip from Mum, Dad has an “if it makes you happy, it is your life, you’re an adult” attitude. That isn’t to say he doesn’t care, he does and will always try to help us when we need it but he lets us do our own thing and doesn’t tell us whether he thinks we are right or wrong.
I’m 28, I haven’t lived at home for 8 years and have been dependent on my parents for anything for at least five years but still Mum had this strange influence over me. If I buy something (clothes for instance) and she expresses her dislike (which she will do in no uncertain terms) I will return it. If I say “I want to go travelling” (which I do) she will say “You’re not going on your own” and this is usually followed by an argument. She also has my life planned out for me and has these high hopes that, unfortunately for her, I’m never going to reach because I don’t want the same things. I know in my early teenage years I did a few things that disappointed both of my folks but I’ve spent the last 14 or so years making up for them. So I too am choosing not to play the game anymore and to have the courage of my convictions (which is a little scary sometimes).
A very honest, interesting piece. Caitriona Clear (NUIG) has touched on some of this in her writing about Irish women. She speaks of ‘manipulative martyrdom’ – “after all I did for you”. Adults must then spend their lives compensating. Would this be a form of control?
Even those of us who were never wild but constantly dutiful went through a youth of constant surveillance for what we might do to let down the side. This is worse in rural areas. It springs from fear of the schadenfreude of the neighbours. Perhaps that’s why so many seek the warm freedom of cities.
Forty five years in Dub this October. Thank you Lord.
Congratulations on your degree. That is a heck of an accomplishment.
I’ve always had a difficult relationship with my mother, and found over time the best thing to do is treat her with politeness. I neither seek nor require her approval.
My own daughter has a good relationship with me. Still, I don’t presume to know the ins and outs of her private life. That she feels comfortable approaching me to discuss various problems and emotions makes me the security net, a role I will hopefully play for as long as she needs me.
It’s good you raise you son without guilt, good for you. Guilt is a wasteful useless emotion, it feeds on the past, another untouchable state. What can any of us do about the past? We can’t change it; but we often allow it to change us.
To that I say Hakuna matata.
Well, Ann, my god. I’M proud of you! What a fantastic achievement – WELL DONE! Jo xx
Made me cry – in recognition mostly. Amazing honesty too, as usual. And congrats again on the degree. Hope the tattoo doesn’t sting too much
That’s an incredible result Ann, well done! If your mam’s anything like mine she may have ‘meh’ed at you but will be blowing your trumpet to all who will listen when you’re out of earshot. I only discovered this recently, accidentally, after years of listening to how great my sisters are and feeling like I was the failure. When I spoke to her about it she made an effort to encourage me more to my face. This hasn’t had the desired result though because I can’t help feeling ‘there she goes, trying to be encouraging.’ and it feels meaningless. Ultimately, you are right; the only person worth trying to please is yourself. Thanks for the post and enjoy your tattoo.