Read If You Had Controlling Parents Online
Authors: Dan Neuharth
As you read on, you might notice your inner dialogue. Thoughts like “Don't blame others” or “It's all in the past” may actually be the internalized voices of your parents. These thoughts may feel like warnings to stop exploring, but they offer you valuable information. Observing these messages can show how voices from your past reach into your present to dictate behavior. If you occasionally feel awash in “wrong” or conflicting feelings, questions, or insights, I suggest that you're not doing something “wrong”âyou're making progress. By exploring the paradoxes of your feelings and your relationship with your parents you are embracing more than the either-ors you grew up with. You are gaining freedom from overcontrol.
Top 10 Guilt-Inducing Family-Loyalty Thoughts
Several concerns commonly occur at various stages of individuating and healing among adults who grew up controlled. For readers who may feel ambivalent about revisiting their family's control, the following ten concerns and responses may help you sort through your feelings and decide how deeply you want to explore.
If you're ready to plunge forward, skip this list. If at some point later on you feel bogged down in your growth and healing, that's the time to refer back to this section.
Confronting what was unhealthy in your upbringing doesn't make you disloyal to your parents, and it doesn't indicate that you're downplaying their contributions. Rather, it means you're being loyal to yourself. There's nothing disrespectful about asking honest questions when they're in your own best interests. If you came from a controlling family, developing a flexible sense of family loyaltiesâthat doesn't diminish your sense of yourself or exist
in all-or-nothing termsâcan allow you to see both the good and the bad in your past and in your parents. It's both helpful and healing to study how unhealthy loyalties may have been instilled in you and whether you are trapped by them even today.
You don't have to explore your childhood. It's never easy, particularly if your childhood wasn't easy. Yet it can be freeing.
As you delve into your past, emotions can be intense because they often include leftover emotions you couldn't fully experience as a child. If you had controlling parents, they were probably terrified of being overwhelmed by feelings. That's a major reason for why people control. If your parents feared feelings, they probably tried to avoid, alter, or block all family members' emotional expressions.
Reclaiming your independence may mean connecting with anger, sadness, hurt, rage, loneliness, desolation, or anxiety. As strong as these feelings are, they will eventually pass. By examining and embracing your feelings, you strengthen emotional muscles that were underused in childhood.
While exploring a painful childhood can initially seem to make your life more difficult, it will eventually help you to enjoy a healthier present and future. Your sense of self can change. Your relationship with your parents can change. Your willingness to be yourself despite others' disapproval can change.
For many years I downplayed my parents' influence on me. Looking back, I can see why: It was painful to admit that they had let me down, even if unintentionally; it hurt to face my desperate attempts to be accepted, hiding my needs and weaknesses, yet still never feeling accepted; and, most of all, it grieved me to realize that I, like all children, was powerless to stop my parents from hurting me.
It can be hard to accept the idea that parents have so much of an impact on us. It may be hard to remember that as children we were relatively helpless and dependent. It can be terrifying to admit that your parents muffed one of the biggest jobs of their livesâraising you. It can be so threatening, in fact, that many of us tend to rationalize away that hurt. Freedom lies in seeking a balanced view that neither minimizes nor overstates.
Watching a parent age and die is always tremendously difficult. If your parents were abusive or controlling, their aging can bring a special set of emotional challenges.
Few of us have “finished” relationships with the dead. It can feel devastating if a parent dies before you have had a chance to say your piece or make your peace. But you can still say what you have to say in a letter, meditation, or poem even after a parent is gone. Part Three, “Solving the Problem,” will offer help in coping with the aging and death of controlling parents.
One forty-year-old woman whom I interviewed told me, “My parents never hit me and they certainly gave me food and shelter and an education, so I guess I don't have much to complain about compared to children who were hit or molested.” Yet she was ruthlessly controlled by her parents. The pain of emotional maltreatment can be as deep and long-lasting as that of physical abuse. A slap, shove, insult, or look all hurt equally deeply. In fact, many people who were physically abused say it was the words, not the blows, that hurt most.
You don't have to be hit or molested or left without food or clothes to be left with the effects of long-term abuse. Overcontrol, neglect, and cruelty are all painfulâand all wrong. I'll be sharing stories from a wide variety of difficult childhoods in the hope that you will find, rather than invalidate, yourself.
Self-help books and groups are criticized for turning us into a nation of “whiners” who blame others for our own issues and take no responsibility for seeking remedies. To be sure, some people do get stuck in the “victim” stance. Yet in my experience, most people read self-help books or participate in self-help groups because they care about the quality of their lives. In working with women and men who grew up controlled, I've found that most have trouble blaming anybody
but
themselves because they tend to accept their parents' points of view at the expense of their own.
Children of controlling families aren't trained to act in their own best interests; they're trained to serve and take care of their parents. Questioning your parenting and discovering connections between your current problems and your upbringing is acting in your own best interestsâalthough initially it may feel awkward.
It's important to remember that even if your parents loved you, their control cost you a great deal. This book is not about blaming parents for their mistakes, but it is about understanding their mistakes so you no longer suffer the consequences.
Many controlling parents do what they think is right, but it doesn't mean it was right for you. Vengeance is the last thing this book is about. However, in my experience, forgiving another's transgressions before you're ready to can be as destructive as vengeance. In Part Three we'll explore forgiveness in depth.
It's not specific memories of childhood experiences that need to be healed. Rather, it's the emotional experience of growing up controlled and the decisions you may have unwittingly carried into your adult life that do the harm. Powerful, unseen injunctions often serve as barriers to seeing your past for what it was. Matching your experiences against those of the people you'll read about can help clarify your past.
A message like this is a signal that even the thought of others' disapproval has the power to stop you cold. Yes, some might disapprove. But a big part of individuation is seeking your truth even when others disagree. If you have parents or friends who attack you for striking out in your own best interests, exploring those relationships may be all the more compelling.
Investigating your past can be as private a process as you choose. It's possible to let go of past limits and achieve new freedom with your parents without saying a single word to them. Lots of people have.
This statement reflects the perfectionistic, all-or-nothing thinking common in controlling families. Psychological change can be difficult and slow, but it is not all or nothing. While your parents may never change, your healing is not dependent on what they do. Your healing depends on what you do. Even a minor adjustment in your feelings, behaviors, and relationships can bring you huge payoffs.
Identifying Your Parents' Styles
Nearly all controlling parents embody one or more of the eight “styles” of controlling parenting. These styles provide a “You Are Here” point on the map of unhealthy control.
Identifying your parents' styles can help you make sense of what didn't jibe in your family. Remember the series of lenses an eye doctor alternates before your eyes until you find the ones that enable you to see most clearly? Recognizing your parents' styles offers the right lens to bring into focus the underlying values and themes with which you were raised. The more clearly you view your family's themes, the more readily you can become your own person.
You may find elements of one or more of these styles present in either or both of your parents:
Of course, most controlling parents are a combination of styles, with one, two, or three predominating. My father, for example, was a Perfectionistic-Cultlike-Using parent. And, as you will shortly discover, certain style combinations tend to go togetherâboth within an individual parent as well as between controllers who marry.
Next: Portraits
The next chapters contain portraits of adults who grew up with parents having at least one of these eight styles. By matching your experiences against theirs, you can see your family's early atmosphere more lucidly.
Recognizing these controlling styles can also help you to identify your internalized parentsâthe “inner critics” we all carry in our heads. In Part Two we'll revisit these eight styles and use them to help you free yourself from your inner critics.
You might also notice whether one or more of these eight styles strikes a chord in the way you, in your worst moments, relate to others. Recognizing these unwelcome inheritances will enable you to dismantle those emotional land mines left over from early control.
You love me so much, you want to put me in your pocket. And I should die there smothered
.
âD. H. L
AWRENCE
Key Characteristics of Smothering Parents:
Potential Consequences of a Smothering Upbringing:
Slight, porcelain-skinned Margaret, a thirty-three-year-old attorney specializing in family law, grew up with a lawyer father who loved heated discussions, always insisting that Margaret argue with him and
defend her positions. Unfortunately, he never allowed her to win, badgering her until she capitulated
.
At age nine, Margaret began reading a book about a veterinarian, which her father covertly confiscated since he wanted her to be a doctor, not a vet. When Margaret asked where the book had gone, her father responded with, “What book?” When she was twelve, Margaret developed a taste for bland foodsâvanilla ice cream, white bread, and potatoesâso her father endlessly shoved the spicy foods he preferred under her nose. As sixteen-year-old Margaret was writing her college application essays, her father grabbed them, read them disapprovingly, sat down at the kitchen table, and rewrote them. When seventeen-year-old Margaret was packing for college, her father began yanking clothes out of her suitcase, telling her exactly what and how to pack
.
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Feeling overscrutinized is the hallmark of growing up with a Smothering parent. While Smothering parents can seem incredibly caring, their form of love can breed unhealthy dependence. The endless attention they bestow has its price, for when a Smothering parent is always there for the child, the unspoken agreement is that the child will always be there for the parent.
Smothering parents seem unable to see their children as separate human beings but, rather, see them as worlds to be controlled. Therapists call Smothering households “enmeshed,” full of what family therapy pioneer Murray Bowen called emotional “stuck-togetherness” or what author Jane Middleton-Moz has termed emotional “superglue.” At their core, Smothering parents cannot let their children be independent because it reminds them of the fact that their children will eventually grow up and pursue their own lives. This prospect leaves many in-your-face parents feeling abandoned and invalidated.
Margaret recalls, “My father had this uncanny way of questioning, of saying, âAre you sure? Are you sure?' You couldn't say no. After all, as a lawyer he convinced people for a living.” Margaret coped by mentally replaying conversations with her father every night. “I'd lay in bed and tell him off, telling him that this was counterproductive to my growing up. But I would never dissent out loud.”
Margaret acknowledges that her father, who had Perfectionistic as well as Smothering characteristics, may have had good intentions. But his heavy-handed actions, like rewriting her college application essays or repacking her bags, left her feeling like her “feet had been chopped off.”
Uniform Feelings
While some parents, like Margaret's dad, want their children to mimic their thoughts, others focus on uniformity of feelings.
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Sharon, a thirty-one-year-old graduate student, grew up under the emotional thumb of her father, David, a Jewish Holocaust survivor. David was a newborn when his parents managed to get him to a Catholic orphanage just before they were sent to concentration camps. Miraculously, both parents survived, although they became estranged, and David's mother subsequently found him. For years David's parents passed him back and forth, even resorting to abduction. Perhaps as a result, David could not stand for his own child to be out of his sight. “Even when I was four or five he carried me around like I was a baby,” Sharon says
.
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This intense attention was not always positive. In her adolescence Sharon's father called her “Buck Teeth” and told her, “Your thighs are as big as mine.” He defended his remarks as “good character-building.”
At sixteen, after her parents divorced, Sharon confided to her father that she was having a hard time adjusting to her new stepmother; her dad became furious and branded her “self-centered.”
It wasn't until years later that Sharon realized her Smothering father was self-absorbed. “He has this chasm in him: people in blackness, screaming, climbing walls, being gassed. I have it too. It is in our psyche. But because he has this pain inside him he thinks that nobody else's pain is as great. He could never hear me out when I felt hurt.”
In the midst of a divorce when she was interviewed, Sharon had often picked controlling men as partners. “My heart just opens to men, like it did to my dad, and I get taken advantage of,” she admits.
I do not minimize the trauma of the Holocaust or the legacy of emotional difficulty facing survivors and their descendants. That Sharon is suffering the impact of the Holocaust a half century later is testimony to the enduring potency of that trauma. For Sharon's father, like many other Holocaust survivors, generating life through child raising became a sacred pursuit. As one Holocaust survivor told
The New York Times
on the fiftieth anniversary of the death camp liberations, “Our vengeance was rebuilding life” through children.
When Sharon's father sought to “rebuild life,” the uncertainty and horror of his crucial early years, as well as his parents' ongoing rift, almost certainly led him to focus intently on his daughter in an effort to protect her. Perhaps David, having lived as an orphan until age four,
was also unconsciously trying to live out through his daughter the childhood he had never had. Unfortunately, his grip was too tight for Sharon's optimal emotional development.
Uniform Siblings
While some Smothering parents control their children's thoughts or feelings, others make their children conform to each other. Boys and girls in many large but non-Smothering families sometimes feel they're just faces in the crowd. Smothering families take this conformity to extremes.
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Colleen, a thirty-three-year-old graduate student, is the oldest of seven children from an Irish-Catholic family. She vividly recalls being fourteen and sitting in her assigned seat at the family dinner table. Her father would signal each child in turn to report on what had happened at school that day. If one refused, none could talk. Though her parents may have had egalitarian aims, Colleen felt trapped in a tyranny of sameness. On family car outings, when any of the children misbehaved, her father hit whoever was closest, whether that child had misbehaved or not. If the innocent victim protested, Colleen's father would say, “Who cares? You all need to behave.”
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This conformity left Colleen feeling devalued. “Who we were wasn't important. All that mattered was how we fit into the family,” Colleen said. “We were all just nobody special.”
Yet in ways never acknowledged by her Smothering parents, some differences were allowed, and even fostered. Her brothers' activities received more attention than Colleen's or her sisters': “My parents went to my brothers' hockey games but never came to my basketball games. I felt like one of the things most snuffed out was my feminine side. My parents acted like the only way to be valuable was to be like a man.”
In her adult life Colleen has found it difficult to express her feelings or honor her intuition. She has repeatedly found herself in struggles with authority figures and has been unable to sustain a long-term intimate relationship.
Uniform Values
Some Smothering parents become overbearing in encouraging their children to adopt their values.
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At age six, Cui, now a twenty-seven-year-old sales representative, lay in bed reciting her multiplication tables as her father stood over her. This nightly ritual was part of her immigrant Chinese parents' campaign to stress academic achievement. During grade school, whenever Cui's mother's friends visited, her Smothering, Using mother would hustle Cui off to her room to retrieve her awards for academic excellence
.
“Mom used me as a showcase for her friends,” Cui recalls. “I was like the chess-champion daughter in
The Joy Luck Club
who was forced to play and was valued only when she won. When I saw that movie, I started crying during the opening titles and didn't stop until after the closing credits
.”
Cui was raised with the expectation that she would become a doctor. But when she told her parents during her sophomore year at Princeton that her premed grades weren't high enough, her parents were crestfallen. Within minutes her mother brightened and said, “Okay, then you'll be a lawyer!”
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Smothering parents are unaware of how little they see their children as separate. They easily make incursions into their children's lives because they do not see their actions as intrusive. Cui says, “I got strokes for external accomplishments, never just for being the person I am. I feel like I have lived my life to please others.”
Both Cui's parents came to the United States in their teens, cut off from their families, after narrowly escaping from China before the 1949 civil war broke out. Their struggle to fit into American culture is familiar to many immigrant and multi-ethnic families. In addition, in the Chinese culture great value is placed on academic achievement, and individual freedom and responsibility is viewed differently than it is in American culture. But in their efforts to adopt American values, Cui's parents lost sight of their daughter's needs.
Uniform Lifestyle
While Cui's parents pressured her to adopt certain values, other Smothering parents pressure their children
not
to, even when those values reflect what is deepest in a child's heart.
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Sally, a thirty-five-year-old computer programmer, recalls the time when as a college sophomore she was pulling her Volkswagen beetle into her family's driveway during spring break. Her father came out to help her unload her luggage and, noticing a pink triangle bumper sticker, asked what it meant. As she carried in her suitcase, she told him that the pink
triangle was a symbol of lesbian and gay liberation. Returning to continue unloading, Sally found her father scraping the sticker off her car, telling her, “That's not the kind of thing you want on your car. The kind of attention it will attract, you don't want
.”
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“That was my coming out,” recalls Sally, who'd known she was a lesbian since she was thirteen, but had not told her parents. Her dad has not mentioned her sexual orientation since the incident. “My father still gives me talks about dating and how I have to get out there to find a good man,” Sally says, smiling.
Sally's father had intruded into her business all her life. He insisted she finish her vegetables, serving anything she didn't eat the next morning, cold, at breakfast; making her eat brussels sprouts was a regular punishment. He would wake Sally each morning, pulling the covers from her if she tried to sleep for a few extra minutes. “He was very invested in his family,” Sally says. “It never felt malicious or malevolent, but we were not supposed to have independent wills. Disagreeing would have meant âI don't love you' to him.”
Excessive Scrutiny
Some Smothering parents scrutinize their children in the most invasive ways possible.
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When forty-eight-year-old social worker Tina was four, her mother thought Tina was too thin, so she hovered over her at mealtimes until she'd finished the huge helpings prepared for her. But when Tina was six, her mother decided her daughter was too fat. She put her on a crash diet and, whenever Tina was outside the home, taped a sign to Tina's back reading, “Please Do Not Feed Me.”
Her mother, a nurse, scrutinized Tina's bodily functions and provided frequent “home remedies”: enemas if Tina had not had a daily bowel movement, douches as early as age nine, and penicillin shots stolen from the hospital at the first sign of Tina's having a cold or a sniffle. “Growing up was like being a patient in a sick ward,” Tina admits
.
Her mother picked out her daughter's clothes without consulting her. Tina recalls pictures of herself as a somber little girl with bangs and a turned-up nose, wearing garish outfits four sizes too big. “I was overfed, horribly dressed, had thick glasses, and was very nervous,” Tina remembers. “I've seen people in wheelchairs, shrunken and paralyzed, who have a better body image than I had.”
Like many controlled children, Tina had little privacy. She and her siblings were forbidden to close doors; they showered, used the toilet, and slept, all with the doors open. “It wasn't until I went away to college that I realized this was not normal.”
Tina found that it was fruitless to be herself except in her private world of imaginary playmates and someday hopes. The smothering scrutiny in her childhood has translated into an adult feeling of “bottled-upness.” For much of adulthood Tina has lacked confidence in her choices, expected others to think poorly of her, and found it hard to ask for what she wants.
To Smothering parents, a child's dissent means rejection, and a child's independence means “I don't love you.” Margaret's mind, Sharon's feelings, Colleen's individuality, Cui's temperament, Sally's sexual orientation, and Tina's body were too separate for their parents to tolerate.
Self-Assessment
My parent(s):