Does anyone have zero happy memories of their mother or father?

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:Here’s a big take away….the ones she favored the most are the most damaged. Her hate became my superpower.
Best of luck to you. I bet you’re kind, caring and very self reliant.

I agree with this and relate. Good luck to all of us.

Agree also. But it would have been nice to actually feel nurtured.

[Anonymous]

Not one.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:We need to cut our moms some slack for never being taught or trained how to be a good mother. Most mums try but not all succeed, sometimes they don't have right ability and other times they don't have right circumstances.

That being said, what matters most is their unwavering love and resolve to physically and emotionally their children.

LOL. I still remember the Christmas that my brother cried because he wanted all of MY Christmas gifts also and my parents bullied me until I gave him all my gifts. On Christmas Day!! I don’t think they did try to be good parents. Why would anyone think this is appropriate behavior? Why would anyone look at that and think “oh look at the unwavering love and resolve”?

[Anonymous]

I have happy memories but they are before the youngest siblings were born. At some point after that the darkness came.

[Anonymous]

My generalized memory of my parents is of loneliness. They were not interested, or involved. It was a 'children should be seen and not heard' environment, and stepping out of line got a kid smacked. There were instances that were more severe than others, and those stand out, but my parents weren't routinely abusive.

My mom tells me-- every chance she gets-- about all the wonderful things they did for us. The travel, the gifts, the opportunities, etc. Strange how those don't stand out in my memory the way that getting dragged (literally) by the arm out of a department store does.

That said, I believe my upbringing was typical or better, for the time and place. Everyone got smacked sometimes, and some kids had it worse. No one's parents played with them, or talked to them other than to issue commands. Everyone liked their kids best when they were succeeding and conforming. No one celebrated children for the sake of childhood.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:We need to cut our moms some slack for never being taught or trained how to be a good mother. Most mums try but not all succeed, sometimes they don't have right ability and other times they don't have right circumstances.

That being said, what matters most is their unwavering love and resolve to physically and emotionally their children.

Maybe. I don't think this works as a blanket statement. My husband had an abusive childhood. I don't think either parent tried hard or loved him. I think they were immature, lazy, mean and resented their kids. They were sadistic and not goid people. I don't cut them any slack. The damage they did was terrible and has had repercussions for his whole life and therefore to mine too.

+ 1 yeah, no to that poster. My mom was a pampered princess golden child with a scapegoat brother. She scapegoated me and turned my drunk brother into a golden child. He still can do no wrong and she still tells the story of my brother punching her in the stomach before I was born. “He was so angry and sad because you were on the way.” Barf,beyotch
Got plenty more of her quotes floating around in my head forever including “you’ve been such a disappointment, HUGE”

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:I don’t have a single happy memory of my mother. I’m assuming this is somewhat rare even for people abused like I was. I’m in my 40’s and have a great family myself now. If you did grow up with a horrible mother, do you still have happy memories? I just have a deep resentment and hatred towards her and nothing else.

My mother was not kind to me and never showed affection. She verbally and physically abused me and neglected me physically, emotionally and medically. She was wonderful to my other siblings showing love, care and protection which was not given to me. I grew up believing there was something wrong with me and I was unlovable. I had an abusive relationship as a teenager which altered the course of my life.

I have not forgiven my late mother, as she never acknowledged the abuse and neglect. In her eyes, I was the source of all my family's problems. Once I was an adult and had my first round of therapy (4 years), I was able to establish a civil relationship with her. I have broken the cycle of abuse and dysfunction with my dh and our children through decades of therapy, commitment and a bit of "I'll prove a broken person can be happy, break the cycle and raise healthy kids."

The only happy memories I have are of being grateful she didn't hurt my siblings.

I am sorry you endured that. You didn't deserve to be treated like that. Please accept a virtual hug from this stranger.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:My dad was a deadbeat drug addict and alcoholic. The happiest memory I have of him is him calling for my birthday, late or not on my bday, in the middle of the night and singing a song about cocaine to me. As like, a 6 year old.
Bizarre the things that stick in your mind.

Omg - we must have the same father.

Mine was a junkie "artist" who couldn't be distracted by his (at least) 4 children.
I saw him last 50 years ago when I was 5 and he showed up at my birthday party. His gift was a tape recorder with my name on it. I didn't understand what was a tape recorder and I asked him about it, so he said I was stupid.

[Anonymous]

After my dad died, people told me how proud he was of me.

I thought to myself, " Are you sure we are talking about the same person?" I certainly never felt that in any way.

[Anonymous]

I think for most people, the strongest memories of childhood that they recall as adults are negative. I think this statistically is just what happens as the negative emotion felt during the incident that forms the memory, is so much stronger than a happy moment.

Having said that, I have happy memories of my father and a lot of unhappy memories of my mother.