LUE: No, You Didn't Turn Out Okay
Jun. 10th, 2024 03:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notquiteisraeliSomething I've noticed that's uncomfortably common in my generation is this whole "my parents beat the shit out of me and I turned out okay!"
No, you didn't. If you think that hitting people is a solution to a problem, then no, you didn't turn out okay.
There's also the whole "we didn't wear seatbelts or bike helmets and we survived." Yeah, but a lot of us didn't. A lot of us did die from completely preventable accidents.
Nostalgia is a dangerous thing, folks.
Do I think there were good points to the way I was parented in the '80s and '90s? Sure. Boredom can be good for a kid. Unstructured play time stretches the imagination. Stranger danger may have been in the news but in reality it was as likely as it's ever been and as it is now - which is to say, not very. (Fun fact: 93% of children who are harmed are hurt by people known to them.)
On the other hand, I do wish my mom had given me more attention. She was emotionally neglectful a lot of the time and treated me and my brother like we were impediments to her living her life. I don't think that's a generational thing, though. That was just my mother, who was woefully unprepared for single parenthood at the age of 29.
And yeah, I got hit as a kid. I remember dreading the skinny belt. That fucking hurt. My mom did quit hitting me when I was about 13, because she had the uncomfortable realization that I could and would hit back - and it might not go so well for her.
I don't think a lot about how the aggregate of all that has affected me. I know it has, and I have to deal with it. I know that I flinch when people raise their voices. I know that I like my space and alone time. I know that at times I can be pathetically needy and I need constant validation. I know that I dread when people are angry at me.
I wish people would be willing to admit that no, they didn't turn out okay.
No, you didn't. If you think that hitting people is a solution to a problem, then no, you didn't turn out okay.
There's also the whole "we didn't wear seatbelts or bike helmets and we survived." Yeah, but a lot of us didn't. A lot of us did die from completely preventable accidents.
Nostalgia is a dangerous thing, folks.
Do I think there were good points to the way I was parented in the '80s and '90s? Sure. Boredom can be good for a kid. Unstructured play time stretches the imagination. Stranger danger may have been in the news but in reality it was as likely as it's ever been and as it is now - which is to say, not very. (Fun fact: 93% of children who are harmed are hurt by people known to them.)
On the other hand, I do wish my mom had given me more attention. She was emotionally neglectful a lot of the time and treated me and my brother like we were impediments to her living her life. I don't think that's a generational thing, though. That was just my mother, who was woefully unprepared for single parenthood at the age of 29.
And yeah, I got hit as a kid. I remember dreading the skinny belt. That fucking hurt. My mom did quit hitting me when I was about 13, because she had the uncomfortable realization that I could and would hit back - and it might not go so well for her.
I don't think a lot about how the aggregate of all that has affected me. I know it has, and I have to deal with it. I know that I flinch when people raise their voices. I know that I like my space and alone time. I know that at times I can be pathetically needy and I need constant validation. I know that I dread when people are angry at me.
I wish people would be willing to admit that no, they didn't turn out okay.
no subject
Date: 2024-06-10 03:17 pm (UTC)JesusTHERAPY."A lot of boys, especially, don't get hit anymore once they get big enough to hit back and do serious damage. I notice that was about when my dad stopped hitting me and went to threats to pull me out of school and make me get a full time job when i turned 16, threats to cut off funding for college, threats to throw me out of the house, and so on.
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