TRIGGER WARNING: ABUSE
I read this post on Tumblr, and it spoke to my lived experience in a loud and familiar voice. I posted it in comments on my Facebook yesterday, but I think it’s worth promoting to Main for other survivors who may take some comfort from it the way I did.
“Living in long term abusive situation, the abusers will often require you to ‘act normal’, as if everything is fine and good, even if you don’t feel okay. They present it to you as necessary, polite, ‘don’t be rude to xyz’ or will straight-up belittle and humiliate you until acting ‘normal’ will be the only safe option for you. It creates the illusion that everyone is secretly falling apart inside and suffering silently only to be polite.
“Acting normal in every situation can become a compulsion, something you do automatically to protect yourself against possible or imagined backlash; you live as if you’re unphased by anything, because showing pain feels like showing weakness, and being hurt while you’re weak is worse. You additionally might feel that your feelings are too much, nobody would want to deal with them, you’re oversensitive, overdramatic, over-emotional disaster of a human and you keep it all in to save yourself rejection and embarassment.”
I said:
“My father did all the abusing, and my mother did all the gaslighting, so I would act okay around not just him, but everyone.
“To the day I ended contact with them, after trying so fucking hard to heal with them, he denied ever doing anything to hurt me, and she gaslighted me about it.
“I was so good at acting okay, most of my biological family doesn’t believe me about his cruelty and abuse.”
I was telling Anne yesterday afternoon that my childhood was defined by a father who clearly didn’t love me, didn’t even like me, and a mother who somehow convinced herself that he wasn’t hurting me. Like, after raising two kids together, I had this realization one day that nothing happened in our house that we both didn’t know about. If one of the kids was upset about something, we both knew about it and we talked about it, together, so we could be the best parents we could be.
There’s no way my mother didn’t know that the man who was my father was cruel to me. There’s no way she didn’t know he was so mean to me. He humiliated me, he teased me, he picked on me. He put me down, he mocked me, he minimized everything I cared about. He did it in front of the whole family, endlessly. There’s no way she didn’t know he clearly and obviously and demonstrably loved my brother and sister in a way he did not love me. I mean, look at pictures of me. Pictures where I was putting on my best face for the whole world! The sadness and pain in my eyes is painfully obvious. Some of you are mothers. I know that every single one of you would recognize that pain and sadness if you saw it in your children. I know that every single one of you would do everything in your power to help your child.
There’s no way she didn’t know, unless she deliberately chose to ignore everything I was going through, for whatever reason. Honestly, that’s worse, I think.
I’ve talked to my sister about it, and it’s like she grew up in a different family than I did. She says she never felt unloved, or like she had to be good enough for their affection and approval. She felt like she was enough, just because she existed. She never felt like our parents didn’t love her or accept her exactly as she was. Watching my parents worship our brother, it was obvious that he was more than enough for them.
But I was a thing. When I was seven, Mom made me a thing that she could use to chase fame and fortune in Hollywood, and that man who should have been a father to me … I guess he resented that thing.
He wasn’t physically abusive toward me until I was a teenager. I mean, they both spanked me and my siblings all the time in the 70s and early 80s. I understand now that we consider that physical abuse, but in the 70s I understand that corporal punishment was more common than it is now? I don’t know. I think using the threat of physical violence and pain to make your kids behave a certain way is monstrous, but I also know it was a different time and … well, my parents were kind of monstrous. I just didn’t have anything to compare my experience to at the time.
I wonder if she convinced herself that, because he wasn’t hitting me or leaving marks on me, that he wasn’t abusive. And I wonder if, having made that choice, the emotional abuse and endless cruelty was that much easier to ignore.
I’ll never know, because all the times I tried to talk to her about it, she just gaslighted me. As far as I know, with the exception of my sister, my birth family sincerely believes I am the villain in their story. And that really, really hurts.
As I said in my post on Tumblr, I got so good at pretending everything was okay, just so I could survive, I fooled everyone in our family, in our neighborhood, and at work. To this day, people I trusted don’t believe me, because I was such a good actor.
It hurts so much to know that people I love don’t believe me, or believe that I’m anything other than a survivor. It hurts, and the lingering vestiges of those childhood survival skills occasionally assert themselves, making an argument to me that I should just reject everything I know to be true, and accept their version of reality, just so I can have the family my brother and sister have.
If I’m being honest, the thing that hurts the most is knowing that my parents had unconditional love to give, because I saw them give it freely to my siblings. The man who was my father made a choice to treat me like shit, and my mother made a choice to ignore or justify it.
My sister told me she has these memories of going on family vacations without me, and that she always missed me being there. I remembered them taking a few trips when I was in my late teens, and how I didn’t want to go with them, because the way our parents and our brother made me feel was just so awful.
I am having a little bit of a flashback right now to one of the many times my brother and father gleefully ganged up on me, teasing me, humiliating me, mocking me. Just relentlessly bullying me. And when I punched back, it was always, “WOAH why are you so sensitive? Learn to take a joke!” and etc.
This has gotten much longer than I intended, and a big part of me feels like I should just delete it all. That part of me is always scared and vulnerable and anxious about everything. But when I posted this yesterday, the ensuing comments helped me feel so NOT ALONE in knowing that all of these things I endured, all the gaslighting and all the pain and trauma were REAL because those things didn’t happen just to me. It hurts to know other people experienced these things, but it also helps me know that I’m not alone, I didn’t make it all up, and none of it was my fault. I hope it helps them, too.
If you see yourself in any of my experiences, I want you to know that I see you, right back. I believe you. We didn’t deserve any of it, and I am so sorry.
Wil, I can relate in many ways to what you went through. Growing up my mom was in poor health and my dad was always at work so I didn’t get to experience a lot of memories that others my age had with their parents. Reading what you went through, let me just say that the issue wasn’t with you, it was with them. You have nothing to blame yourself over. If anything I can say I admire you for overcoming all of that. Look at where you are now in life! You are helping many, myself included, with your writing.
Wil, I see you and I hear you and I acknowledge your pain and the abuse that forced you to hide your true self from the people who were supposed to give you their unconditional love.
But I must quibble with one point in your very moving post. The best acting reveals deep truths about ourselves and our world. The best acting touches its audience deeply and changes their point of view. Ideally, it even makes them better people because of the actor’s own skill and insight into the character.
As such, the face your parents made you show was far, far from your “best acting.” Your abusers forced you to mimic the behavior of an enabler and a self-despising victim. Actually, it might be more accurate to say that they turned you into their prop, not into your own person. But even the kid who plays “Tree #3” in the school play is allowed to show himself a bit. Your “best acting” was not your accepting a role as your parents’ prop; it was your ability to set that aside and through your TV and movie roles enrich the lives of people who saw something in you that your own parents refused to see. Please don’t ennoble your chromosome-donors by crediting them with facilitating “your best acting.”
My mother tried to murder me when I was a child. My father molested a family member. I have an idea of what you’re talking about.
I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO DISASSOCIATE YOURSELF FROM YOUR TORMENTORS. We survivors need to unlearn harmful socialized beliefs. No, we don’t owe anything to those who don’t respect us. That includes family by blood & marriage. Found family are those members who we let in because there is mutual respect. I recommend you stop trying to speculate their motives for treating you badly. You’ll continue tying yourself up in knots. YOU know the harsh truth even though others are delusional. You do what’s necessary to make yourself whole & happy. Walk away. It sounds like you’ve already done that physically, but mentally & emotionally, you’re still grappling with this. It’s ok to say, “they have no place in my life.”
I’ve had to settle for one-sided resolutions. There was no “meet me halfway” in my experience. My needs were always deemed less than abusers’, so I deprive them of my presence & walk away. Neither parent admits the attempted murder to this day. I’m a “horrible person” for even suggesting such a thing. Truth is my salve. I made it to middle age without committing suicide, becoming unhoused or an addict or violent.
Here’s unconventional wisdom for which I am universally hated for daring to say: There is no such thing as unconditional love. If every abused person were to understand this, it would make the healing process easier. In a relationship, there is a line/boundary the other does not cross or said relationship is untenable. I’ve seen that line up close. When enraged mothers hear my belief & insist I’m mistaken because they’ve never seen said line, well, I’m happy they’ve never seen that line…but don’t tell me it doesn’t exist.
My mom has severe mental issues. I still care about her well-being. I don’t love her. I also don’t hate her. You have no idea how painful the idea is for someone to not love one’s mother. I’m talking about other people (usually women) not allowing me to not love my mother, my attempted murderer. It’s unthinkable to them to the point of projecting their hate on me. It’s actually fascinating. Apparently to them, I’m not allowed to disassociate from my mom for my own mental health & that makes me an awful daughter. I disagree.
It’s ok to walk away for your own health. People should celebrate that their good relationships of healthy conditional love work for them. I do not tolerate others telling me my life experience is a lie, invalid, and something for which I should be hated. I do not have a relationship of unconditional love with either parent because it simply isn’t true. I demand safety, respect, and trust from those in my circle; my found family. Those conditions are not too much to ask.
I hope you gain some closure from my life lessons. I’ve admired your growth into a writer, husband, and parent. You’re on the right path.
Actually yes, I do. When my mother died, I felt nothing…but relief. She had been an alcoholic and Valium addict for a large part of my childhood and on into my teens. I had no help, no one to turn to. Most of my relatives were alcoholics, too. The rest just didn’t want to hear it and proceeded to tell my parents. I quickly learned to keep quiet and not attract any attention. My Dad worked long hours, I think as much as to stay out of the house as anything else. Maybe he was involved in…extracurricular activities. Me? I guess I was collateral damage, as they say. Left to my own inadequate devices.
So yeah, Wil and Laura. I get it.
Much love & healing to you, Gregg.
Now is a particularly triggering time for all of us. Once again, those with power over us are failing to protect us & causing harm themselves. I told my therapist that this was my second tour of duty. The first was enduring living in my mom’s house until I was 18. Becoming an adult was the light at the end of the tunnel; I could leave. Now, AgentOrange is the abusive dad who has finally left the house but still causes damage. GQP is the enabling mom. That on top of the pandemic & everything else.
I’ve worked very hard at identifying truth & dismantling lies in my life. Our society is built on lies. It’s up to each of us to reject those lies. We convince ourselves there is unconditional love because the concept makes us feel good, warm, and safe. While it may happen to be truth for those who haven’t been abused, the concept doesn’t hold up to those who have. It took a while for me to understand what everyone was talking about because it was a fantasy in my life. So that begs the question – does it exist in the first place? We lie to children all the time to make them feel safe. We lie to not hurt others’ feelings. We lie to save face. Do we truly believe lying is bad?
Another unconventional & universally hated concept: The sacred mother bond is a myth. Wil says, “I know that every single one of you would do everything in your power to help your child.” I realize he’s talking to this audience who is sympathetic. This socialized belief that “mothers would do anything for their children including laying down their lives” is absolutely not true for me nor Wil nor you, Gregg. In fact, mine wanted me dead, so that statement is a fallacy for me. Does that mean my life is a lie or does that mean the concept is? While that concept of sacred mother bond may happen to be true for many, it is not universal and not a hard truth. For me to desire a lie is harming myself, so I let go of the lie. I live truth no matter how harsh, and I am at peace because there is no incongruity.
Thank you. There do seem to be a lot of us.
You and I seem to have a lot in common. You’re welcome to find me on Facebook if you’d like.
Much love to you, Wil. It is an act of bravery and generosity to share this and leave the post standing so others can feel less alone. We see you. We’re with you on your journey, even if only in cyberspace.
Wil-
Sounds like there are many many people with experiences such as yours. I was not abused in the same way but definitely had an abusive step dad and a mom who was in denial about the situation. I forgave my stepdad the year before he died because I was tired of carrying that pain around. I will never forget the things that happened, and long ago changed the familial dynamic so that I didn’t suffer that type of abuse anymore or put my children in harm’s way. I love my mom and understand that she has plenty of her own stuff she never dealt with. I have forgiven her for her denial of what happened, but again, I have not forgotten. I see her maybe twice a year and it’s certainly not the mother-daughter relationship I would like to have but that isn’t possible at this point. However, I know that because I forgave them long ago they don’t live rent free in my head anymore. Being angry at someone who has no remorse for things they have done only hurts you. It’s like drinking poison and hoping that the person who hurt you will die.
Obviously the trauma many people have faced is far worse than what I had. A lot of people are not going to be able to be around their abusers at all because it will only continue the abuse. ALL of those with trauma do have the ability to forgive their abuser and let that pain go. It’s hard and painful during the process, but so worth the effort.
Forgiveness doesn’t ever mean you are saying those things didn’t happen. Forgiveness is saying “this person has problems and took them out on me but I won’t feel bad about it any more because it is harmful to me.” You never have to see or talk to that person again or even tell them you have forgiven them. It can lighten your load so much. I understand it’s hard because society says we have to love our parents and maintain contact with our families but that just isn’t true. Removing toxic people from your life is healthy for you. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel guilty for doing what you need to do to heal. Get counseling if you can and find people you can love and trust to spend time with. Don’t let your abusers run your life from inside your head any more. You can do this!
Wil, I’m so sorry, and like a lot of us here, I can relate (father abandoned us, mom had multiple feeble suicide attempts and was the most relentlessly selfish person I ever met, alcoholic grandpa and enabling grandma — and I grew up fat, clumsy and a straight-A student in a redneck little factory town that worshipped high school athletes, so I was relentlessly bullied, and the people in positions of power either participated in the bullying too or gaslighted me). But you survived and became a wonderful, caring person, and by golly, so did I. Abuse and bullying are dreadful things, but all that stuff is much more out in the open now, and we can help victims so they don’t have to put up with that crap any more.
Dear Wil and everybody,
Big Big hug.
I still have a hard time talking about my flaky mother. Dad knew something had been wrong after she left (I was 12 in the mid 70’s). He took us to the clothing store and told us to get whatever we usually got. Huh??? We even had frozen dinners to eat because he was still working away from home all week. (A few years later we had a step mom and she was ok.)
Endless teasing/bullying at school from Kindergarten on up. You could say my mom set us up with what we wore and brought to eat for lunch. She was “astrophysical on another plane” so “we were better than/ahead of everyone else” We didn’t think so.
I do have people around me that see me as “normal”, I feel “normal” even with the inner struggles. Life is so different than the 60’s and 70’s and I’m in such a different place that I have been able to disassociate somewhat as someone has suggested in the comments. I live closest to mom. Enough for a day trip visit but far enough that she can’t “pop in”. Just helping out an old lady that I call mom and she can’t hurt me/mess with my head anymore. It feels good to tell her “No, we won’t talk about that” or “that didn’t happen that way and we aren’t talking about it either”
Much love and hugs,
Val
Wil, you are so brave to share all of this will the world. As a victim of my own father’s endless mental and emotional abuse, I want to tell you how hearing your story has made me sad and angry that you had to go through all that. Like you, my mother was always there to defend his actions. But once, she agreed to meet with my therapist a couple of times. I will never know what they discussed, but something changed her opinions and the next time my dad began to berate and belittle me because I left my text books in the car, she came to my rescue, ordered me into the car and drove me away while my dad was still yelling at me. Leaving my books, or anything, in the car meant I was a lazy, selfish, unappreciative slob who would never amount to anything. As she drove me away, I asked her why he hated me so much. This time she didn’t deny it or stick up for him. She simply said, I don’t know. It wasn’t until almost 20 years had passed and I was in psychoanalysis that I came to understand what a validation that was from her.
I’m so happy for you that you were able to get out from under all that toxicity so much earlier than I was. At 67 I’ve only just begun to emerge from the total belief that I was a selfish, stupid, lazy, weak, self-pitying, unlovable, and all around disgusting person in the last 2 years. All of us here don’t have to explain how that feels; we have all felt it. Like you, my other siblings deny I was treated any differently from them and have accused me of fabricating it all. Dad never missed any opportunity to abuse me in front of the whole family, including my aunts, uncles, and cousins. Yet none of them ever said a word. I now live 2,000 miles from all of them and will never see any of them ever again. I’ve never felt such freedom. I’m also beginning to discover and appreciate the person I am for the first time in my life.
It is a process we have to go through, unlearning all the lies we were told and relearning the truth. Each of us has to do it in our own way and it is never easy or quick. At some moment we all know everything that happened was because of someone else’s hatred for themselves. We may not know it consciously for years. That’s how it was for me. I had a year of horrible anxiety and this feeling I didn’t even recognize. It took months of work to see that what I was feeling was anger. I didn’t even know what it was that was making me suddenly want to throw things because I never allowed myself to believe I had any right to be angry about anything. But then when I realized I didn’t deserve the treatment I got from my dad for 60 years there was no stopping the anger. That’s when you know you’re coming out from under the spell of the lies you’ve been made to believe all your life.
I very much look forward to continuing along this path with you and all the others here and in your FB page. Every one of us deserves it and we all deserve good things in our lives. We all are allowed to live free of the abuse and to remove the abusers and enablers from our lives. Not only are we here for each other, we also have to be supportive of ourselves in ways we’re supportive of others we love. I think of it as nurturing and loving that little girl I once was who was never told she was loved, or that she deserved love. She is still very much with me as it seems the little boy you were once is very much with you. He never deserved any of the things that happened to him. He, and you, are very much loved and admired and appreciated. We are all making the journey with you and with each other. I, for one, could not be happier about it all.
Wil, your last sentence made me weep. It reminds me of something I learned through therapy. I deserved better. 2020 was the catalyst for me to seek therapy. My parents caught someone molesting me when I was 10 years old and they blamed it on me. From then on they made no bones about telling me how ashamed they were of me. They made me live in a virtual prison, in fear that I would cause something like that to happen again. After I had kids of my own, I just couldn’t fathom how they could treat me so poorly. But it wasn’t my fault. I did not deserve that. Thank you for sharing your pain with us.
Hello Wil. You might not see this, but I will write it up regardless. Firstly, I want to say that I am a massive fan of you, particularly in Stand by me and the Big bang theory. When I read your blog about your abuse, i was shook! literally, it was like looking in the mirror. i was born in 2001, but I also suffered corporal punishment and I hate my parents for that. My parents once swore at me, my mum locked me in a room and threw a slipper at me (she missed, so ha!) and my dad would threaten to kick me out of the house (when I was little). As I got older, my parents would criticise me all the time and always compare me to others, which is why these days I have low self esteem, I am so negative in the way I think, I seek validation from outside the family and I struggle to form friendships. What it interesting is that I did not realise that I suffered from childhood trauma until I started taking the counselling sessions at my university and then all those repressed memories came back and it made me so emotional that for the past month, I probably cried nearly every day because I now know why I’m why, why i have low self esteem, why i have social anxiety, why I’m always critical of myself, why I always compare myself to others. It was my fucking parents who are responsible for this. Its the constant criticism and comparison that sucked the most. Its like they compare me to a total stranger and I’m like ‘well why don’t you just give me up for adoption and take them in my place instead? otherwise, don’t ever fucking compare me.’ Also, they expect me to be ‘perfect’, like whatever that means. Nothing I do is ever good enough, or they always find the slightest fault in everything and then lecture me for an hour on it. Don’t they realise that its your imperfections that make you beautiful because no human is perfect. I only just knew what the word gaslighting meant 3 months ago and my mother is the biggest gaslighter I know. She does it all the time. Like recently, she criticised me for the way I walked and I told her to stop and she used the ‘I’m your mother, i can criticise if i like’ excuse. Or she once said ‘I’m not criticising you, in advising you.’ Don’t try and manipulate me, so I told her ‘no, you’re criticising me and taking the piss, stop!’ My parents have never shown any affection to each other, my dad has never hugged me or kissed me ever. I do hug and kiss my mum, but I’m always the first to do it and its getting on my nerves and I should just stop. I should say that she only ever hugs me when I’m angry at her, that’s surely got to be toxic of her?!
Do you notice how that your parents are harsh and rude and toxic to you, but when with other people they act all smiley wiley cutiepies.
There are times where I wish I wasn’t born or when I was a kid I wanted to be an adult or that I want to leave the home forever and that I hated my family and wish I could choose my family. Since going back to university for my 3rd year, I have suffered from depression, loneliness, social anxiety and it sucks. My friendships have failed, I feel like everyone hates me, even though its not true. My parents know nothing about my mental health struggles and I’d keep it that way. Last time i cried in front them , they literally shut me down and told me to ‘be like a man’ ‘man up’ ‘don’t be such a girl’. If that ain’t toxic, I don’t know what is. When I do cry, Its in my bedroom or bathroom locked so that no one sees.
That is why I LOVE ‘Stand By Me’ because the guys cried but they did not get ridiculed or shamed or bullied for it. It did not make them ‘p*&$y’ or any less of a man. For me, a real man does not conform to stereotypes and is true to himself. Society sucks big time.
I’m too afraid to confront my parents about my childhood trauma. I need to heal the unhealed trauma for sure. I just don’t know how. I want to end by saying how that people tell you to surround yourself with people who make you feel good and respect you, love you. But when you live in a toxic/dysfunctional household, I don’t have that choice. I’ve spent my whole life trying to challenge my parent’s dinosaur traditions/beliefs/values and it clearly ain’t worked.
P.S You are my role model because you manage to overcome your trauma and not let it affect since you got married and have children and have a successful career in various fields. When I heard about your trauma, I kept asking ‘What nutcase would hate Wil Wheaton? He is the most kindest person to ever exist, no offence to anyone else. Obviously I don’t know you, but you are the kindest, generous, humble, compassionate, friendliest, down to earth person I know. Its their loss, not yours! Live long and prosper!
I love what you shared. I love it because you vented all the abuse and hope it helped.
Wil can add more if he chooses, but I would say as someone who wishes I could go back in time in a time travel machine to advise myself: Finish your degree, keep up with your counseling, you are not hated by your peers (it just feels that way because of your self esteem being squashed), get a great job, and get out of that house.
Live life then, on your terms Subhan. And find your family of choice. Take care.
Tonya, thank you a million for your reply 🙂 I mean, everything you wrote makes total sense. I read this tweet on twitter that said how ‘why would one assume that their 20s is going to be the greatest moment in their life when for pretty much everyone our teenage years were plagued by insecurities, rejection, disappointment, low self esteem etc and that your 20s is spent healing, recovering and seeking a progressive life’. I definitely intend to spend my 20s just getting help, you know taking baby steps to heal the trauma with the intention for a progressive, brighter future.
It’s funny … my dad was the abuser but I put most of the blame on my mother, the enabler. There’s something more horrifying to me about someone KNOWING about the abuse, and choosing to do nothing about it. There’s an implied assumption that we somehow deserved the torture which is why they didn’t step in. It’s heartbreaking and disgusting. I’m glad they’re both dead.
I thought the same thing in my family, until I started reading this book called TRAPPED IN THE MIRROR, about adult children of narcissists. I fully expected to get some insight on how to deal with my mother, and by the end of the third chapter, I realized that all the cruel, selfish, hurtful behavior described by my fellow survivors didn’t describe my mother; it described my father. I couldn’t believe I’d been blind to it for my whole life, but once I saw it, I couldn’t NOT see it, you know?
I’m sorry we share this experience. I see you.