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IAmATortoise's avatar

The sad reality is that many people who thought they were good parents were not. Adults have an amazing capacity to deceive themselves, especially when the only contrarian voice is a child's. Being a good parent requires investing in your child's mental and emotional health, not just providing a bed, food, and clothes. When parents take out their frustration with life, anger at someone else, disappointment with finances, regret at their own bad choices, low self-esteem, and other brokenness on their child, they are laying a solid foundation for a future estrangement. Just because the scars are invisible doesn't mean they are imaginary.

Jan Peppler's avatar

You wrote this years ago done and I’m not sure why it’s only popping up on my Substack now, but I’m glad I had a chance to read it.

In the four broad categories that you mentioned none fit my experience.

I was physically unable to have children so when a good gay male friend adopted a child through the foster care system, I unofficially became the coparent. It was more difficult when I moved away, particularly in that I was unable to see when my friend became an alcoholic and Sabrina was too young to voice what was But by the time she was 15 we were very close again and the plan was for her to come live with me because by my friend declared he was unable to parent well and she was pushing beyond every boundary. Things had become physically dangerous between them. But that bond between father and daughter, was naturally deep. We spent five years with Sabrina moving between the two of us, me being on the phone with them during conflicts, and frequent visits. And then her father died unexpectedly. For the second time, I completely appended my life to focus solely on her. I was devastated when she turned on me. I left things verbally and in writing proclaiming how much I loved her and would always be there for her. I have enough training to know that she is projecting pain and trauma from her father onto me in order to preserve the memory of her father and assuage her own regrets. But it has been five years now since we’ve spoken, and that continues to pain me. I have since stopped reaching out because the rejection is too painful. But I continue to hope that someday I will hear from her. And yet beneath it all, knowing I did everything I could, I can’t help analyzing what I might’ve done wrong or what I could’ve done better.

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