I kept my mother's secrets, but she still accused me of being wicked.

I sought therapy after realizing my family life was abnormal and dysfunctional.

October 2nd 2024.

I kept my mother's secrets, but she still accused me of being wicked.
As my wedding day drew closer, my mother dropped a bombshell on me. She told me that I was no longer considered a part of our family. It was devastating news, especially since my big day was supposed to be a time of joy and celebration. It all started when my husband and I made the decision to not invite my brother to the wedding. My mother, unable to handle this decision, disowned me. As a result, neither of my parents attended the wedding and we haven't spoken since. This all happened about 20 years ago.

My parents' relationship was complicated from the start. My father, a devout seminary student, fell head over heels in love with my mother. He even left his studies to pursue her. Unfortunately, my mother did not reciprocate his feelings. Despite this, my grandmother was determined to have my mother marry into a respected family. She saw marriage as a way to "tame" my mother. However, this did not stop my mother from seeing other men. She had numerous boyfriends, even after she married my father. In fact, just a few weeks after their wedding, my father caught her in bed with another man. This pattern of infidelity continued throughout their marriage, and I was often caught in the middle. My mother would take me along to her secret rendezvous and make me promise to keep her affairs a secret.

Growing up in such a tumultuous household was challenging. I always felt like I had to walk on eggshells around my mother. I constantly had to gauge her mood and adjust my behavior to avoid her wrath. If she was upset about something, she would take it out on me. Meanwhile, my brother was treated with respect and admiration. I first noticed this when I was seven years old. It became clear that I was being treated differently than my brother. My father even went as far as to show me a hardcore pornographic film while I was snacking after school. I couldn't understand why I wasn't loved or valued like my brother was. This feeling of being an outsider in my own family only intensified as I got older.

As a teenager, I began to see a counselor to help me make sense of my dysfunctional family dynamic. It was during these sessions that I realized how abnormal my upbringing was. My counselor presented me with two options: to try and improve my relationship with my family or to cut them off completely. At the time, cutting them off felt too drastic, so I decided to try and set boundaries. However, my attempts were met with constant failures. My mother would push for intimate details of my life, only to use them against me later. She even admitted to spying on me by driving past my house and peering into my backyard. But when it came to her own private life, she expected me to keep quiet. It was a toxic and confusing situation, and I didn't fully understand how unhealthy it was until much later.

As I was planning my wedding, I made the difficult decision to not invite my brother. He had a history of getting drunk and causing scenes, and I didn't want any drama on my big day. This decision infuriated my mother and we have been estranged ever since. Although we have had brief moments of contact, our relationship is strained and distant. It has been difficult to come to terms with the fact that my parents will never truly know or love me for who I am. It's a constant source of regret and shame for me.

Despite the pain and difficulties, I still longed for a "normal" family. But as I grew older, I came to understand that not all parents are capable of unconditional love. I have found solace in forging relationships with extended family members who treat me with kindness and respect. It has been a healing experience for me, but I still carry the weight of my failed relationship with my parents. I often wonder what could have been if things were different, but I know that the reality would have been far worse than not having them in my life. I have learned to accept that my parents will never truly know or love me, but it doesn't make the pain any less real. If you have a similar story, I would love to hear from you. Share your thoughts in the comments below.

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