Sorry guys but allow me to get more things off my chest.

I went through emotional and physical abuse growing up that shaped up the kind of relationship I have with my family now. My reluctance to spend time with them is not something I’m doing because I want to spite them, it is honestly how I feel. Despite it, I’m consciously making an effort to maintain a relationship, but I wish my parents understand it won’t be the kind of relationship as if the abuse never happened.

Moving out of the house, having a distance, and being financially independent really help because my parents don’t understand the concept of boundaries, privacy, or kids having their own lives. My mom used to read my diaries (instead of actually have a talk) and chastised me for what I wrote in there. Everything is about fear, shame, or guilt. When I first got my period, the only thing she told me was “you better don’t get pregnant!”. One time she found my stash of (ahem) adult materials, she told me she got rid of it and said to me “I’m on to you,” and since then every time I was reading something, she’d suspiciously ask “what are you reading?”. Funny thing is, later I found one of those adult materials in her nightstand. Gross.

And growing up, what I had to say never had any bearings whatsoever on my parents. Still don’t actually. One of the biggest beefs I have is about our dogs. We never had dogs until my house was broken into one day. My dad then bought a couple of mongrels to guard the house. That was one of the happiest days of my life. They became my best friends until they grew old or too much to handle and my dad would get rid of them. Just took them and put them on the street like they were nothing. My dogs never saw a vet a day in their lives, my dad just doesn’t spend that kind of money on pets. One of them developed this skin disease and I just knew my dad would get rid of him. I was so stressed and felt so helpless, I was in 6th grade, had no money to get him to the vet, and when my dad was loading him to his car I mustered my courage, I was shaking, fighting back my tears so my dad won’t see it and made my case. I didn’t beg, I was like a businessman lobbying an investor. I pinpointed all the benefits of keeping the dog and I lied through my teeth that his skin was healing. And I succeeded. Well, at least for a few months. He still got rid of him in the end.

When I finally won the golden ticket and move out of the country, I left behind a dog. I knew they were gonna get rid of him one day, still I tried to talk to them like an adult this time. In one of my weekly phone calls, I told my mom please take care of my dog and don’t get rid of him, it would mean so much to me. She said okay. Then few months later when they visited me, my mom casually mentioned that they’d got rid of the dog. I cried my ass off that night. And the next week, my mom called me like nothing happened, telling me she was planning a family trip to Thailand and wanted me to join. Fresh off my anger and feeling like there is no point in concealing my disappointment, I simply said I don’t want to. The next day, she texted me saying she cried last night because she felt like I was pulling away. Funny thing is, she acted as if she didn’t understand why I was doing this. Umm, hellooo???

• This reply was modified 9 years, 3 months ago by Allison.