Hello everyone. This is my first time posting here. My CBT therapist recommended I join this group and spend some time reading through the subreddit to see if I could relate to others. Honestly, I can relate to a lot of your stories. I’m really sorry for what many of you have been through and for those who are still going through it.
I’m 27 now, and I’m still dealing with things from my childhood. I grew up with my parents until they separated when I was around 3 years old. That part never really affected me much because it’s all I’ve ever known. After they split, my mom got custody of me and my brother.
My mom has been married seven times. The first five marriages, including my dad didn’t last more than a year. We moved constantly, going from house to house, and sometimes we even had to sleep in the car because my mom didn’t want to move back in with her parents. Eventually, though, we did move in with them, and that was the closest thing we had to stability.
Not long after my parents separated, my mom became very emotionally abusive toward me. She would say things like, “You’re worthless,” “I wish I had an abortion,” and “Why can’t you be like your brother?” Those are just a few examples.
I saw a post the other day that really stuck with me. Someone asked if anyone else felt like people only wanted them around when they could use them. That hit me hard, because I realized that’s how both of my parents have treated me my whole life. If I had an opinion that didn’t fit what they wanted, I was shut down—told things like, “Why do you even talk?” But if I stayed quiet, I’d still get in trouble. It felt like I couldn’t win.
My dad, on the other hand, was physically abusive. The first time he hit me, I was around 6 years old. I was chewing with my mouth open, and he smacked me so hard I fell out of my chair. When I started crying, he asked if I “wanted some more.” There were also times he would heat up a fire poker and strike me on the back. I still have scars from that.
Growing up, both of my parents made me feel like everything wrong in their lives was my fault. They had me when they were still in high school, but somehow I was always the problem. When I tried to speak up especially about being treated differently than my brother it would only make things worse. My brother would sometimes start fights, knowing our parents would take his side, and I’d be the one who got punished.
I don’t blame my brother for any of that. I know he wasn’t the one choosing how I was treated.
We both played sports growing up, but my parents never came to my games. Eventually, I just stopped playing. Meanwhile, they showed up for everything my brother did. He always had the newest gear, while I wore hand-me-downs even though I’m the older one and only got new clothes or shoes every couple of years.
Now, as an adult, I’ve been a dad for a little over three years. I have a 3-year-old son and another son who will turn 2 in October. My brother recently had a baby girl my niece and I love her like she’s my own. Seeing him become a father has honestly been something I’m proud of.
But when it comes to our parents, nothing has really changed.
My dad has probably seen my kids five times total. When I try to reach out or ask about bringing the kids over, I usually don’t get a response. He did show up to my oldest son’s birthday in March his first time attending one and brought gifts. Later that night, I sent him a video of the kids playing with them. I’ve messaged him a few times since then, but I haven’t heard back. It’s been almost two months.
Meanwhile, he spends time with my brother all the time going fishing on weekends and even during the week. The only time he reaches out to me is if it’s about something firearm related, because of my military background.
If my wife and I are invited to anything, it’s usually last minute. And when we go, it feels awkward—like we’re only there so they can say they’ve seen us, not because they actually want to spend time with us.
My mom is similar in a different way. She’s gone over to help my brother and his wife multiple times, even staying overnight to support them with the baby. And I get it—being a new parent is hard. I’m not upset with them at all.
But where was that support when my wife and I needed it?
No one ever offered to help us. I stay home with our kids while my wife works—I’m a disabled veteran—and there have been times over the past four years where I’ve really struggled. I’ve been diagnosed with severe anxiety, depression, OCD, and PTSD. There were times I truly needed help, and it just wasn’t there.
So it’s hard not to notice the difference now, seeing my mom go out of her way multiple times a week to help my brother and his family.
The longer I’ve been a parent, the harder it is for me to understand how someone could treat their kids so differently. I look at my sons, and I can’t imagine making one of them feel like they matter less than the other. I love them both equally and just don’t understand why so many of us share almost the same story, you’d think it’s not possible and that you would just know love instead of the pain that we do. Sorry for ranting so long and I hope you guys have a good rest of your day.