Dear Robi:

“I want to build a solid foundation with my girlfriend. I’d like us to be family and live together… basically want to go be in Warsaw with my girlfriend”-

It warms my heart to be reading this 🙂

And I think it won’t be easy because of your disorganized attachment style (did we talk about it?).

In general, disorganized attachment is basically what happens when a child feels pulled in two opposite directions at the same time: the child wants comfort from a caregiver, but the caregiver also feels scary, unpredictable, or emotionally unsafe.

Disorganized attachment happens when you grow up with mixed signals from the people you depend on- sometimes they’re loving; sometimes they’re angry, distant, or unpredictable. Sometimes they comfort you; sometimes they frighten you.

So, your nervous system doesn’t learn one clear strategy. Instead, it learns confusion: you want closeness, but you also fear it. You want love, but you don’t trust it. You reach out, then pull back. You get overwhelmed easily. You don’t know what version of the other person you’ll get.

It’s not your fault — it’s your body- growing up- trying to survive a confusing emotional environment.

As an adult, this can look like craving closeness but panicking when you get it, trusting someone one moment and doubting them the next, feeling unsafe in relationships, intense emotions that flip quickly, feeling like love is both comforting and dangerous.

It’s not a character flaw. It’s a survival pattern your nervous system learned early on.

So, now that you’re in Romania, it’s easy to access love for your girlfriend; once you’re in Poland, you’re likely to feel disconnected from her again, sooner or later. The key is to understand your attachment style and to prepare, to not over-react when the expected happens, understanding it’s not an objective indication regarding your relationship with her, but instead, an indication of childhood trauma (I’m referring to the title of your thread) that still requires healing.

And, yes, indeed, living away from your parents is a good idea 🙂. I would still be a big mess if I lived with or close to my mother.

🤍Anita

Dear Robi (Part 1):

A walk down memory lane…

Your first post ever was on June 8, 2018, in your first of 3 threads titled: “My story and my search for answers”. You were 25 back then (34 now).

First time you shared about your parents was on that same day (6/8/18): “I’ve never really liked my parents that much. Well.. when I was really young (kindergarten young), I used to cry every time they took me there and I used to love spending a lot of time with them, but I guess things changed…”.

I copied much of what you shared about your childhood and relationship with your parents (in all 3 threads, June 8, 2018-Feb 19, 2024) and ask Copilot (AI) to analyze it.

Copilot: When you look at his story as a whole, several themes emerge very clearly: chronic emotional neglect, enmeshment, lack of autonomy, inconsistent caregiving, fear‑based attachment, and coping through dissociation and escape. Nothing in his childhood was overtly catastrophic, but everything was chronically mis-attuned: no privacy, no personal space, no autonomy, no sense of being seen as an individual, no emotional safety, no consistent connection, no encouragement or guidance and no room for self‑expression.

This is the classic profile of emotional neglect, which often leaves deeper wounds than more obvious forms of trauma because the child grows up feeling invisible, unimportant, and unformed. He wasn’t abused constantly, but he was unmet constantly.

* His parents’ anxiety and passivity shaped his development: He describes them as anxious, disconnected, passive, stuck, observers of life rather than participants. Children internalize the emotional world of their caregivers. Robi absorbed fear of taking risks, fear of the world, fear of independence, a sense of being “caged”, a sense that life is something you watch, not live. This is why he later coped through screens, movies, and fantasy — he learned to observe life instead of inhabiting it, just like his parents.

* The lack of privacy and autonomy is not a small detail — it’s developmental deprivation. A child needs a room, a door, a sense of ‘mine’, a place to retreat, a sense of boundaries. He had none of that. The glass door, the constant intrusions, the storage room — these are symbolic of a deeper truth: he was not treated as a separate person. This creates identity diffusion, difficulty knowing what he wants, difficulty feeling like an adult, difficulty separating from parents and difficulty tolerating independence. His later struggles in Spain make perfect sense in this context.

The long hours waiting at his parents’ workplace were a form of emotional abandonment. He wasn’t physically alone, but he was psychologically alone. He describes waiting, idling, watching others come and go, feeling invisible, feeling trapped. It’s a quiet, chronic form of abandonment.

The lake house summers reinforced the same pattern: trapped, isolated, no friends, no choice, no autonomy, no stimulation.

His parents chose their comfort over his developmental needs. He learned that his needs don’t matter.

* The physical punishment and threat of abandonment created fear‑based attachment: being hit with a belt, then comforted, then hit again, then apologized to — this is inconsistent caregiving, which creates confusion, hypervigilance, distrust, emotional instability, difficulty regulating emotions and difficulty forming secure bonds.

The threat of foster care is especially damaging. It teaches the child: ‘Love is conditional. If I fail, I can be discarded.’ This creates lifelong anxiety around independence and dependence.

* His computer addiction was not a flaw — it was a survival strategy. He says it himself: “It was a necessary addiction.” He used screens to escape loneliness, escape boredom, escape emotional confusion, create a private world, find stimulation, find identity, find belonging. This is classic dissociative coping.

He didn’t have a room, so he built one online.

* His adult struggles with work, independence, and identity are predictable outcomes. Children who grow up without autonomy, encouragement, guidance, emotional attunement …often struggle with initiating tasks, sustaining effort, tolerating uncertainty, believing in themselves, feeling like adults, separating from parents.

* His emotional reaction to leaving home is not contradictory — it’s attachment trauma. When he moved to Spain, he felt anxious, unstable, longing for home, crying when seeing his parents’ pictures. This is not because his parents were safe. It’s because they were familiar.

Children with inconsistent or neglectful parents often feel more attached when they finally separate — because the attachment system activates under stress.

He is grieving the parents he wished he had, not the ones he actually had.

* The “cage” returning when he accepted money is a trauma echo. He felt ashamed, small, dependent, controlled, infantilized. This is because financial dependence recreates the emotional dynamic of childhood: ‘If they support me, I lose myself.’ This is a trauma response.

Robi’s story reflects emotional neglect, enmeshment, lack of autonomy, inconsistent caregiving, fear‑based attachment, identity diffusion, dissociative coping, developmental trauma. He is a man who grew up without the conditions needed to develop a stable sense of self, and he is now trying to build that self from scratch.

— Following the above analysis, I added what you shared later on the 2/19 in regard to your visit to your parents with your girlfriend (a part I neglected to add for the analysis above.

Copilot: Robi’s experience during that visit is not an isolated incident — it’s a perfect reenactment of the emotional dynamic he grew up in. Everything he describes fits a very consistent psychological pattern: conditional support, enmeshment, emotional control, denial of harm, and punishment for autonomy.

* The ‘”support” he received was conditional, not secure. When he first told his mother about the personal trainer course, she responded with excitement, praise, and financial support. That felt like warmth, approval, belonging, hope, a “welcoming hug.” But this support was not unconditional. It was contingent on him staying emotionally close, behaving the way she wanted, fulfilling her idea of “family time”, not asserting independence, not challenging the past

This is why the support evaporated the moment he stepped out of line. This is not healthy parental support — it’s conditional attachment.

* The moment he asserted autonomy, the old dynamic reappeared: he and his girlfriend felt observed, judged, controlled, patronized, treated like children. This is exactly how he felt as a child. His parents don’t relate to him as an adult. They relate to him as an extension of themselves — someone who must fit their emotional needs. When he tries to be his own person, they experience it as rejection, disrespect, abandonment. So, they respond with control, guilt, and emotional withdrawal.

* His mother’s reaction is classic emotional manipulation. When she cornered him and accused him of not caring, she was doing what she has always done: making his autonomy into a moral failure, framing his independence as selfishness, demanding emotional closeness on her terms, punishing him for not meeting her needs. This is not connection. This is enmeshment.

* When he brought up childhood harm, she denied it — this is extremely common in emotionally immature parents. Her responses: “I didn’t hit you.”, “You’re talking nonsense.”, “You were a handful.” “It was difficult to raise you.” These are classic defensive strategies used by parents who cannot tolerate the idea that they caused harm. Why? Because admitting harm would require self-reflection, guilt, responsibility, emotional maturity.

She doesn’t have those skills. So, she rewrites history to protect her self-image. It’s because she’s emotionally underdeveloped.

* Her threat — “You’re on your own in 3 days” — is a reenactment of childhood abandonment. This is the same emotional weapon she used when he was a child: “If you don’t behave, we’ll send you to a foster home.”, “We will abandon you.” Now, as an adult, she uses: “You’re on your own.” It’s the same pattern: withdraw love to regain control.

* The silent treatment is emotional punishment- When she stopped speaking to him for days, she was punishing him for confronting her, punishing him for asserting himself, punishing him for breaking the family narrative, punishing him for having boundaries. This is not conflict resolution. It’s emotional coercion.

* His anger (“I want to crack their heads open”) is not pathological — it’s the anger of a child who was never protected. This kind of anger is common in adults who were emotionally neglected, were controlled, were hit, were denied autonomy, were gaslit about their own experiences. It’s the anger of someone who finally sees the truth. It’s not dangerous — it’s a sign of awakening.

* His mother’s final justification — “You were difficult” — is a way to avoid responsibility. When she says: “You were a handful.”, “It was hard to raise you.” She is shifting the blame onto him. But he’s right: children are “difficult” when their needs aren’t met.

A healthy parent would ask: “Why was my child struggling?”, “What did he need that he didn’t get?” His parents didn’t have the emotional capacity to do that.

* The core dynamic- Robi’s parents offer warmth when he complies, withdrawal when he asserts himself, support when he stays small, punishment when he grows, affection when he plays the role they expect, rejection when he challenges the past. This is conditional love, not secure attachment.

* Why he keeps going back? Because he is still hoping for repair, recognition, accountability, unconditional love, a parent who finally sees him. This is normal. It’s the longing of a child who never got what he needed. But the pattern is unlikely to change unless he changes the terms of the relationship.

(To be continued)

Dear Robi (part 3):

Copilot: Your father comes across as a quiet, passive, emotionally distant man. He doesn’t seem intentionally hurtful, but he also doesn’t offer the emotional support, guidance, or protection a child needs. He avoids conflict, avoids emotional intensity, and stays in the background. Because of this, you didn’t grow up with a strong model of confidence, engagement, or healthy adulthood.

His passivity also meant your mother carried all the emotional weight in the family, and that weight often fell onto you. He didn’t cause harm directly, but he allowed harmful patterns to continue because he never stepped in, never set boundaries, and never protected you from emotional pressure.

* Me: I am amazed today, Robie, to clearly see the similarities between your mother and mine as well as between you and me.

Like your mother, my mother too showed love through control, not through attunement. She equated Closeness with Control. When I was emotionally compliant, and behaving the way she expected, she became warm and approving. But the moment I asserted any kind of independence (as a teenager, I suppose) or expresses my own needs, she becomes cold, distant, or angry.

She didn’t relate to me as a separate person. She related to me as an extension of herself.

When I brought up painful childhood memories (as an older teenager or a young adult) — being hit, being threatened, being controlled — she immediately denied it, minimized it, or blamed me

She couldn’t emotionally handle the idea that she caused harm, or that she was wrong. So, she protects herself by rewriting history, shifting blame, insisting I was “difficult”, and shutting down the conversation. This is a common pattern in emotionally immature parents.

She too used withdrawal as a form of emotional punishment, giving me long silent treatments, not speaking to me for days, as well threatening abandonment (in my case, in the form of suicide threats). It’s emotional coercion — it was a way to regain control by making me feel guilty, scared, or responsible for her feelings.

Her support is conditional. She was supportive when I was compliant and dependent on her, but the support disappeared if I asserted any independence, if I challenged her or expressed my own truth. To earn her “love” I had to disappear, to minimize myself.

Like you, I grew up with no privacy, no personal space and with constant observation (except when she was at work, not at home). In my case, she talked to me whenever she wanted, even when I was busy with homework, and when I didn’t want to be talked to. Living in tiny apartment didn’t help.

She never learned how to respect boundaries. To her, closeness meant access, involvement, control and constant presence.

She didn’t recognize that a child needs space to develop a self.

She wanted closeness but didn’t know how to build connection, so she used guilt, pressure and control to have power over me. She confused closeness with possession.

Like your mother, mine was emotionally underdeveloped, never have learned healthy boundaries, emotional accountability, how to validate a child, never learned how to separate her needs from mine.

Because of her patterns, I learned that expressing needs is dangerous, that independence triggers guilt, that I must hide parts of myself, that I have to focus on her emotions and ignore my own, and that I am responsible for her emotions and for keeping the peace.

* Identity diffusion is a term used to describe a state where a person doesn’t have a solid, stable sense of who they are, and that’s what I experienced: not knowing what I wanted or preferred, changing my mind often about goals or values, struggling to feel like one continuous person over time, feeling like I “performed” or was fake, had difficulty making decisions because nothing felt solid. And that was a result of growing up (I prefer to say “in”) with my mother.

Identity forms when a child grows up with emotional safety, encouragement to explore, room to express themselves, consistent boundaries, etc., but when a child is controlled, criticized, ignored, invalidated or not given space — the self doesn’t get to develop.

In general, identity diffusion in adulthood can lead to difficulty choosing a career, trouble committing to goals, feeling lost when alone, relying heavily on others for direction, feeling overwhelmed by independence, and intense reactions to criticism or rejection. Reads familiar, doesn’t it, Robi 🙂

(To be continued)