Do you have any memories, as a child, of any incidents when your parent(s) let you down so badly you never forgot it?

Just when my Mother left my father for a younger man,when I was 14 .
Other than that my parents were pretty cool.

Meh @SQUEEKY2. I knew a woman who left her entire family, including 3 boys, for her meditation guru and moved out of state, leaving the boys with their dad. One of her sons was killed, hit while riding her bike, not long after that.

Santa Claus; Catholicism.

I can’t remember ever being let down by my parents. I always felt loved and protected.

My dad did something when I was in my late teens/early 20s that deeply hurt my entire family, and I judged him harshly for it for years after he died (far too young). But when I grew older and went through a similar experience, I understood why he’d done what he did and I lost my anger toward him. Now I just miss him.

My mom had emotional issues, is the thing.

I don’t remember the let downs so much as sheer psychological and physical trauma. The one incident that I hold against both my parents was the night when my mother beat the hell out of me and my father strapped my arm to a 2×4 with two belts and proceeded to give me the scare of my life as he inched my arm and the 2×4 towards the whirring blade of a table saw, cutting into the wood before backing off and doing it over and over again.

I’m glad for my little 12 year old brother my parents changed and broke the cycle of abuse (they were both abused as children). But forgiveness will never happen. I have never confronted them about it, but sometimes I get a strong urge to tell my little brother just what kind of people his precious and adoring father and mother were when I was his age and younger.

Wow! What made them see the light?

My mother threatened to divorce my father. It had nothing to do with the abuse, but something clicked for them that this wasn’t the happy family that they apparently dreamed of when they first started dating. So they tried to patch it all up and make it right with their third child (my youngest brother).

They didn’t have a clue how fucked up I had become by that point. They never thought that their other two sons might need help, it didn’t occur to them until I was the one who not only cracked but fell apart completely.

Do they understand why, now?

The day my Mom ripped down my RHCP poster from the wall, she said because they were naked, my reply ‘no they aren’t, they have socks on!’ Too bad they weren’t on their feet ;)

When I was a kid, about 13 or so, I had a neighbor the same age. He had a poster of a different scenes from Peter Pan. They were pornographic. I was shocked that his parents let him keep it.

Nothing too big, but the first thing that comes to mind:

When I was 16 I moved in with my older girlfriend just for the summer months since I had no reason not to. During the school year we only saw each other on weekends since she lived an hour away, so I was thrilled to be with her daily for the months of June through August. In order to feed myself I tried to get a job, but met with little success. After a month or so of not being able to find work my father sat me down for a little chat about how he thought my girlfriend could be spending her money more wisely, that she was being irresponsible since I kept having to ask my family for food money…

He kept going on and on about how broke he was, while at the same time scratching off lottery tickets he had just bought. Seeing him with his lottery tickets while lecturing me about my girlfriend being financially irresponsible since I needed food money (remember I was only 16) was just too much for me so I said “well if you didn’t buy lottery tickets maybe you’d have some money and could help me out”. This produced the most evil look of hatred I’ve ever seen cross his face, and he told me to “Stew in your own shit. Don’t call me”. He then got in his car and drove off.

I’ve kept my guard up and watched what I’ve said to him ever since.

I tend to remember the times that I let them down badly and they didn’t hold it against me.

Before they were parents they were just regular people like you, me, and everybody else. None of that magically changed just because they had children.

Well, of course they’re only people, but when they decided to have kids they probably needed to change the way they did some things, so they did change somewhat.

That didn’t make them exempt from doing regular people things like making bad judgement calls, being selfish, being abusive, etc.

It’s an individual choice whether or not you choose to let that shit go or not.

I had to do a lot of tweaking when I realized my mom was coming out of my mouth. My oldest was 7 and I chastised her for something. She said, “It’s OK to be mad, but you don’t have to hurt my heart!” Stopped me in my tracks. I really tried to change my behavior and my words after that. I only hope I succeeded.

@Dutchess_III my mother apologized once and assumed everything was okay from there. My father “doesn’t remember” any abuse occurring and thus refuses to apologize for anything.

I am well aware that I’m probably weak in character and definitely weaker than my other brother who I deeply regret taking out my resulting frustrations and I have done some terrible things to in the past as a twisted attempt to cope and escape from my past. My actions, regardless of the source, are still my actions and I do not blame my parents for what I did and what I became. I blame them for doing things no parent ever should do and not being involved… Not attempting to be involved in their children’s lives to realize that they – maybe just me, my other brother seems to be coping well enough and is making significant healthy progress in putting the past behind himself – needed help and support.

I’m so sorry for what you had to go through. My heart aches for you.

My parents were great.

Nope, my parents had their faults, but I can’t say I ever felt betrayed or anything of the like, by them. And I still get along great with my father.

Yes. Three come to mind when thinking about my father. It took until adulthood to grasp why he acted this way. They are forgiven but not forgotten. Like your example, there was nothing scandalous in Dad’s actions. It was only a knee-jerk reaction that later resulted in my understanding the fact that parents aren’t always perfect when it comes to bringing up their children.

My dad told me that my eyes change color to brown when ever I needed to pee. Had me fooled and I felt like an idiot. I don’t like being teased.

Speaking of my dad, I was once in the bathtub playing one of those slider things where you try to get the numbers in order. My sister tried to take it. There was a whole lot of tussling and screaming going on. Star Trek was on. My dad stormed up the stairs, snatched it, threw it and broke it. I was shocked. My dad wasn’t given to knee jerk reactions like my Mom was.
I remember he yelled something about “Star Trek!!!” and I remember thinking “That’s more important than me?”
I was in 4th grade.

One day when I was 10 my dad came and picked my up from school. I greeted him with a big smile and a friendly “Hi dad”. But he didn’t smile back nor respond. Instead he was frowning and asked me some not-so-nice things about school. I felt like my greeting wasn’t appreciated and lost all my willpower to greet my parents since then.

We always had the main Christmas at our house in the sticks, Xmas-eve. The Grandmas arrive, we start to settle in. Dad discovers his paycheck is missing. Must be lost. An hour goes by as he drives the snowy streets where he had been, mom walking the gutter. The check in question? Under the sunvisor.

I feel very lucky right now after reading some of these stories. My dad never yelled at me. He barely raised his voice if he had to. The only time I’ve ever seen him angry was when someone hurt one of his kids or hurt my mom. He’s a good man.

Christmas was the only holiday held at our house, home.

Us and the two Maternal grandmothers,invited.

My dad disowned his whole maternal side of his family without warning, including me, when I was 7. I tried to reconcile with him at age 13, 16, and 25, but each time inadvertently made his wife mad and ended up getting disowned 3 more times. It has affected a huge part of my life, my decisions, self-perception, etc. I talk to him now but there’s a distance that I don’t think will ever be breached.

My mom was verbally abusive- very sarcastic and demeaning with her words for most of my life, but I’ve gotten past that. What I will never forgive her for is tricking me into giving up custody of my son when he was 3. I was a single mom and doing the best I could—I wasn’t partying, wasn’t on drugs, was working and very dedicated to my son, but she didn’t think I was ‘good enough.’ So, she asked me if I would be willing to give her some legal say-so in regards to his medical needs, i.e. if he was in the ER, she could make decisions about his medical care. I thought that was a good idea, but in the lawyer’s office, I skimmed the papers and didn’t really understand what I was signing—until it was too late. I got my son back 5 years later, “on loan,” but she warned me she would be watching every move I made… I didn’t have the money to fight her in court, so was just happy to have my son. I still have a deep-set hatred of her for this.

There’s one more thing I haven’t forgiven. When I was 15, my mom, stepdad, stepbrother and I were on a road trip family vacation from Florida to Chicago. My mom and stepdad got into an argument, he took his son, took the van filled with all our things, and left. He left my mom and me in Chicago without her purse, without any money, extra clothes or anything, and went right back to Florida. Fortunately, this was in the 1980’s and the cops were willing to help my mom talk to the credit card companies and we got back to Florida in one piece.

I’ve had a few “black plastic purse” moments as well, so I know that feeing of shock/despair/horror, etc.

Those 3 incidents really shaped how I viewed myself, how I reacted to people, the relationships I attracted, and how I lived my life. Since I’m a natural people-pleaser, I have just kept it inside- I don’t feel like dealing with the fallout if I say anything, so I tend to rationalize and try to move on. Sometimes I wonder what really would happen if I allowed that dam to break.

I was betrayed every time my father took a drink, every time he hit my mom, every time he threatened one of us kids…..and most of all by my mother for staying with him all those years.

Far too many incidents to count. After a while you just lose track. I grew up with two chain smoking alcoholics and at a pretty young age (prob. 8 or 9) realized that neither was a role model for anything I would ever aspire to.

I didn’t trust either of them and knew that I was just biding time until I was old enough to get out of there for good. And if I did things totally opposite of the way they acted, I figured I’d be in pretty good shape in life.

Altho there was one semi-humorous incident remembered I guess for its utter ridiculousness.

We lived right on Great South Bay and frequently went over to Oak Beach or Cherry Grove where they had a choice of different bars to drink in (I guess to break up the monotony of the same ones at home.

One night as we were heading back my stepfather was so drunk that he couldn’t even follow the well lit bouey’s marking the channel back and ran the boat aground on a sand bar. So there we were stuck.

So my stepbrother and I proceeded to start yelling HELP at the top of our lungs even tho both parents are telling us to shut up cuz it wouldn’t do any good since it was too dark for anyone to find us anyhow.

And after about a half hour or so, along comes a really nice guy in his clammer who offers to tow us off the sandbar.

Even tho it was after midnight by the time we got home, had we listened obediently to our stupid parents we would have been stuck out there till daylight.

As it was, things were bad enough as I had invited a friend of mine from school to come along. Her frantic parents were much relieved, midnight notwithstanding, and I could just imagine how they would have felt had we not rolled in until daylight.

Needless to say, that was the last time I ever invited a friend over for any reason whatsoever. I knew for certain that I couldn’t rely on either parent for anything.

So, I grew up being quite independent at an early age and that has stood me in good stead all through my life.

Well, they were divorced when I was 6, but hey, shit happens.
My mother was left a single parent bringing up 3 boys, she had given birth to a daughter who died from heart complications aged just 6 weeks.
My mum is incapable of letting me down, she’s my fucking hero. As for my dad, don’t see him, haven’t for years now. No grudge or blame though, life’s too short for that shit.

My mother was a complicated individual, and I forgive her shortcomings, but I won’t forget.

Upon the revelation that her sister’s husband (my uncle) was a pedophile and had attempted various acts with the 12-year-old me, and had gone so far as to threaten my life if I ever told anyone, my mother was more concerned about the pain this would cause the family to speak more publicly about the incident(s). She preferred to have me believe that I misunderstood, that I might be imagining things, or that “boys will be boys.”

As I aged, I came to find her reaction very sad, and I thought that perhaps she, too, had suffered similar incidents. I harbor no anger towards her; but I’m sad for her, for me, and for all the children who’ve had similar experiences.

@picante

Wow, that is major and for kids who tell but aren’t believed (or attempts are made to minimize it) end up with incalculable damage.

I think your assessment is likely correct that your mother was also victimized in childhood (there has to be something major to short circuit the normally powerful Mama Bear instinct to protect her young) but that’s little comfort at the time it’s happening.

Was he ever prosecuted or did she succeed in covering it up altogether?

Those old “statute of limitations” laws are horrible IMHO.

Buttonstc, the uncle died may years ago (these events are five decades old)—but he attempted sexual exploits with other family members and, I have no doubt, with his own children. To my knowledge, he was never dealt with through the judicial system.

Ironically, he was a man of financial means, and when his wife, my aunt, died a few years ago, I came into an inheritance that allowed me to do some things I’d never be able to otherwise. There is no “payment,” of course, for these deeds; but the karma didn’t escape me.

On a positive note, I cite this event as catalytic in my personal development. Though I was painfully shy, I was able to stand my ground, evade his advances and plan my counter-attack in the face of his threats. It gave me a confidence that I’m not sure would have surfaced otherwise.

Speechless. So impressed with how many of you came out of so much shit, with such dignity and courage and strength.

What gets me , is these people with big parent problems in their past, can’t wait to become parents.
That I do not get, but probably never will.
Except for my parents splitting when I was 14, my childhood was pretty good,never had many wants and always had a warm safe roof over our heads with plenty of food.
And yet to this day in my early 50’s still do not want children of my own.

Well, I think part of it is they can’t wait to be GOOD parents to their kids. The kind of parent they always wished they had. They don’t realize how easy it is to slip into familiar patterns, as I did in my early parenting years. I didn’t even realize I was using sarcasm and embarrassment and shame as part of my “discipline.”

I think my children were better off never being born. I would never have committed the atrocities my parents did, but I was very affected by it all. I would not have made a good parent.

When I was eighteen, my parents’ regular and worsening fights culminated in my dad’s leaving. He was simply gone one day, and wouldn’t respond to calls or messages. He had been depressed, or close to it, for years… I couldn’t help but believe he had killed himself. When he had been gone for two days, I sent him a message asking for a blank message back – just to assure us he was still alive. He finally answered a full 24 hours after that. That’s when my dad betrayed me. I realize he was going through a horrible time.

My mum “betrayed” me when she tossed out a little purse. There were fish on it. I loved that thing. When I was a kid, everything seemed alive to me. That purse was a being.

I let my son down when he was about 8 and I threw away some school papers. The exceptional or funny ones I kept, and still have, but most of them got tossed. O Lord. He found them in the trash once, burst into tears and said,“I worked really hard on each and every one of these!” and he held them up and shook them.
I quickly apologized, said I didn’t know what I was thinking, and took them from him and put them in a drawer.

Throughout my teens we had the “Oh shit, where’s mom?” moments. Hope she’s not off trying to kill herself again. Pile in the car and drive the streets looking for her.

Oh, and then there was time time my dad was sitting on my 16–17 year old sister’s ass, beating her on the back with his fists. I was 13–14 and when I picked up the phone to call the cops, my mother stopped me. She said, “You can’t do that. He’s a deputy sheriff!” MY point exactly. I think my mom enjoyed it, as my sister was a daddy’s girl, and dad had been abusing mom for years by then. In turn she tortured us all mentally.

Oh, and I have previously recounted the tale of coming home from school to see my bff, a stuffed teddy bear, half charred on the burn pile. Mom had tidied up and had she completed the burn job, I was old enough that I might never have missed him. As it was, it was fairly traumatic.

Oh, man. We went through that “Is she going to kill herself” shit with my mom. Two or 3 suicide attempts. It just pissed me off more than anything. It was so fuckin’ selfish.

Yeah, and after a while, it doesn’t panic you any more, @Dutchess_III. If she cared so little for us, why should we panic at the thought of her leaving?

I think I mentioned this years ago in another thread but I’ll go again. I had a bad habit of leaving crayons in my pocked and they would go through the wash, making everything stained. OK this was bad, but what my dad did was worse. His underwear got stained pink, so he took my favorite doll crib and smashed it to pieces with a sledge hammer.

Then he told my grandmother, who gave it to me, that I broke it because I didn’t take care of my things. My grandmother would go on about this for DECADES about how I never took care of things as a kid and I never told her what my dad did. Months before she died, almost 40 years later, she brought it up. And I STILL didn’t have the heart to tell her that her son did it out of spite.

What an asshole.

Again I am sure glad the Mrs’s and I chose not to have children, with these stories I can’t figure out why anyone would choose to have them.
Except for them splitting up, my parents never did anything like some of these stories I am hearing,shuuuuuuddderr!

@SQUEEKY2 It’s just a love that a person can’t understand unless they experience it. It really eclipses all the negative. Like, when your 3 year old daughter gets up from her name, trips into the living room where you’re sitting and says, “I know. You’re so happy to see me,” and crawls into your lap, all sleepy and warm, smelling of precious little girl…that’s what makes it all worth it.

Or when that same daughter, at the age of 4, has learned to print the symbols that create her name, and writes those symbols on the wall. And you yell, “CORY!”
And she comes running in, big brown eyes open wide and saying “What??!!”
“We don’t write on walls! We write on paper!”
And she looks at the wall, then looks back at you with those beautiful brown eyes, and in astonishment says, “How did ju know it was me?”

Unforgettable memories. Unforgettable. More precious than any amount of money.

@ibstubro I was the oldest. One time we came home from school and found a note that said, “I can’t take it any mo…..........” and the rest of the word trailed off into a long, squiggly line. My sister found it. She threw herself into my arms crying hysterically. So did my other sister. They were just beside themselves. All I felt was a burning anger that she had done this to my sisters.
I didn’t know what the hell to do. I was about 13. I called mom’s shrink who didn’t have time to talk to me.
Mom came stumbling in about 30 minutes later, drunk as hell, and asked why the hell was everyone so upset? She had just gone to the liquor store. I shook the note at her and called her a few choice names, then screamed at her for driving drunk. I told her she could have killed somebody! She said, “I wouldn’t have killed anybody!”

After a few times of that kind of shit, you just don’t even care any more.

@Dutchess_III Do you think your Mother would have been a totally different person if she had chose not to become a parent?
Or she would have been the same person,just without kids?

My Father had a horrible relationship with his mother.
Grandma was very verbally abusive towards my Dad and my aunt right into their adulthood, but treated the Grandkids like gold.
She told us grandkids several times that she only had children was because she wanted grandkids one day, and if she could have skipped the having kids part and still have grandkids she would have in a split second.
There is a great parent,huh?

She’s an asshole too!

Mom would have been the same no matter what. She had a pretty rough childhood. Raised by immigrants who worked very hard, but weren’t all that wise.

So shall we agree there is a great number of people that no way should have been parents,and for those who do choose that path,should go in with 10,000%
And those who choose not to be grateful they had the wisdom to think for themselves and decide that wasn’t for them.

Sure! People’s choices are their own to make.

Excellent, with absolutely NO harassment from friends or family for their choice.

When I was in my early teens my mum made fun of my taste in music and films in front of my friends. She joked about how sad her daughter was. I’ve never been able to forget it but nowadays she seems to admire my individuality so to try and focus on that.

My mother was always comparing me to others, my friends.
“WHY can’t you be more like, so and so.”
I wouldn’t say I felt betrayed but I felt hurt and angry.
“You mean WHY am I not the stereotype perfect, quiet, obedient little girl that never questions anything important and just follows your program?” lol

My mother and I were completely mismatched personality wise. She was overly emotional, sensitive, a drama queen, guilt tripping and a slave to her programming.
I took after my dad the Architect. Highly independent, questioning, a rational thinker, and brutally honest at times. The antithesis of my mother.

To this day I loathe overly emotional, reactive, women. Gah!
A match made in hell. haha

wow

@ucme and…your point is…what?

I reread this whole thread. So sad but so much bravery at the same time.