r/abusiveparents

I don't know if this is a narcissistic thing, a boomer thing, or a just a my dad thing, but I've been reflecting on my childhood about this.

When I was little, when my dad would play with me, he often pretended to be an evil murderer trying to kill me. He'd put on the creepiest voice and say "I'm going to kill/murder you!". I thought it was funny at the time because it was fun to run around and try to escape, and it was obvious it was just a silly game. But now as an adult, I just can't fathom how a parent could ever say that to their kid, even as a joke. Maybe it's because he doesn't have empathy?

He also used to make jokes about burying us/our friends (primary school age) in the yard or in the middle of nowhere, thinking it was such a hilarious thing to say. Not even in a punitive way like "don't do this or I'll bury you", but like with no prompting after a friend came over, "[to my friend] did you tell your parents you love them? Because you may never see them again. I've got a shovel in the car...". Silly me thought there was nothing weird about my dad saying these kind of things to children.

During those years, I had an awful fear several times a week that dad would come into my room and stab me to death while I was sleeping, and it's probably because he joked about murdering me so often. My conscious mind knew he wouldn't, but at night, my subconscious mind convinced me his playful threats were true. One time I was brave enough to ask him not to come in and kiss me goodnight because it made me feel scared to see him walk down the hall, but he totally ridiculed me. Many years later, I privately brought up to him how I used to be terrified of him at night time, and again, he just ridiculed me and treated me like I just made it up to make him feel bad.

Anyone else have parents who would jokingly threaten to harm them for no reason at all?

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I reported my parents for sexual abuse. Which they all deny and my dad told me I'm lying and that I took it the wrong way. And he would have never let any of this happen but he did.

My dad got a attorney and my mom might lose her job. My dad told me that if I love them I'll say this never happened and then go back to normal. They don't want me to see the school counselor who reported it. Which sucks and there trying to call the school to see if that can happen. The police came to school today and I know it was because of me that freaks me the fuck out.

I'm second guessing everything because my dad told me that this never ever ever happened and that I must've took things the wrong way. My dad said he'll never trust me again or have a relationship with me. And that hurt because he's like my best friend.

He yelled at me and said do you want to see us in jail. And I started dry heaving. Almost choked on my food today because I was so nervous.

This prop makes me a terrible fucking person but I'm not saying it was fake. Everything was real I swear. I have multiple memories and feelings and they affect my present day of life. But I dont want to my parents to go to jail or my mom to lose her job or my brother to get in trouble. I just want to be somewhere safe.

I'm scared my dad will disown me if I tell the truth. He said if I say it again then ill never see my family again.

I don't know how to feel 😕 I just wish my parents never hurt me as a kid. Its nice to see payback but I feel awful. I really want to end it. I can't wait a week to get interviewed.

My mother has some kind of mental health problem. She is absolutely insane. She hates people, even her own child and mother. She screams and complains about every single person she sees. For example, when we are driving down the road in the car and someone just so happens to slow down to turn down a different road she starts screaming something along the lines of “Get out of the fucking way you slow ass bastard.” Or at the store, if someone stands behind her in the checkout and starts putting their things on the conveyor belt as she’s paying she gets back into the car and throws an absolute tantrum “Fucking bastards can’t wait until I’m done. Inconsiderate piece of shit.” She also can’t cook at all and forces her 81 year old mother to cook for her. If she doesn’t get up and begin cooking fast enough though, my mother throws a fit yet again. She calls her lazy, disobedient or just a bitch! She is 51 years old. She can learn how to cook it herself!! She is also a major hypocrite. She thinks it okay for her to cuss me out call me (17y/o) all kinds of names, “Bitch, dumbass, whore, etc.” and when I return the favor she gets mad and tries to punish me for “cussing her out”. She said it first and is getting mad because I reacted.

She doesn’t care about me or anything that I like. She shoves studying down my throat every second of every day. I can’t even tell her about my special interests (T.V shows I like, actors I like, etc) she thinks all she has to do is feed and clothe me at that is IT. She refuses to show me any kind of emotional support or interest in me other than my studies. Like I said earlier, she pushes school and studying down her throat. I can’t even walk into the kitchen and make something to eat without her hearing me and then coming out of her room to either nag or agitate me, “You better be studying. You should be studying instead of doing this. Have you been studying?” She is emotionally and verbally abusive and denies everything!! I have recording after recording of her, screaming at me at the top of her lungs, and she still has the audacity to say that it’s not abuse. She starts shit with me and then when I fight back or react, she punishes me and acts like I’m the one in the wrong and I’m the one that started and I’m the one cussing her out. I’m so sick and tired of her fucking abuse..

I got into an argument with my mom. It was really bad. I was calling her stupid and saying a lot of rude stuff. I sobbing and telling her that I hate her. Telling her she’s disgusting. I told her how I was raped, because she says I’ve never been through anything traumatic, and she called me a liar. My mom is a really bad person. She lies a lot, to get your hopes up. She’ll say “I’m gonna buy you a new phone since your phone is really bad” she’s been saying this for years, to get my hopes up, and I hate it. She told me I’m not pretty enough to be raped. She bullies me a lot. Calling me ugly and what not. If I don’t agree with her on something like feminism (she isn’t a feminist) she’ll call me a weirdo. She used to beat me when I was younger, but as I got older she stopped. But I’d have scars all over my body. She tells me how I’m worth nothing. I’ll ask her a simple question, and she will berate me for not knowing. She told me that I should go deeper in my self harm, and told me how she’ll piss oh my grave when I die. She told me to kill myself, and after that stuff I knew I couldn’t stand being treated like that anymore. She’s kicking me out. I’m only 51 backwards. I don’t know what to do. I can’t feel anything. The conversation will be normal and she will make it into an argument. She also groomed me into being what she wanted me to be. She’d call me weird for dressing a certain way, so I’d change my clothes for her. I changed my personality for her. I did everything she wanted me to. I don’t know who I am anymore. When I was sobbing I told her how it’s her fault that grown men stare at my body, and she didn’t care. She used it against me. I used to dress masculine because it stopped boys from looking at me (I was sa’d at lot as a Child, so when I’d dress masculine boys or men wouldn’t sa me, because then I’d be seen as a “tomboy” now that it’s changed. I dress really feminine to the point where I get looks Everytime I go out. I dress this way because it stops the bullying from my mom sometimes. She told me how she’d rather me be raped by a grown man, than have consensual sex as a teenager, because teen sex is wrong. She calls me a liar and say she’s never done anything wrong when I tell her all the bad stuff she’s done to me. When she’d get angry at me she’d pull my hair and drag me to the floor. She’d drop heavy things on my head when I was younger. Rip my clothes off if I didn’t wanna change, and force me to still wear them when we went out. I’m so tired. What do I do?

Hiya, I’m 21f and I’m staying in a women’s shelter at the moment. I finally left my abusive home and it’s been really scary, I also have autism so that’s been its own challenge.

I’m feeling good now that I’m somewhere safe, far away, protected etc but I feel so scared still? It’s like I’m waiting for something to happen and hurt me. I don’t know how to fully let go of my parents. They don’t know I’m here, or that I’ve left for good, they’re still messaging me and being nice like they always are when I’m gone. It’s making me doubt things, and I don’t know how to cut them off. I want to have a good relationship with them so bad but I know I can’t, I just don’t know where to start in letting go. I love them but I know I need to heal and get help for what they’ve caused, and I can’t do that with them around, but why is it so hard to cut them out? I’m so lonely and I just needed to vent, sorry it’s rambly

Hi, I want to know if I’m the asshole here.

I’m a 21F medical student, and he’s a 32M who works a corporate job. He randomly followed me on Instagram and would react to my stories. I ignored him at first because I wasn’t interested, but one day he commented, I replied, and we started talking.

Early on, he said he was looking for something serious and asked if I’d be interested. I told him that in my culture/religion, relationships involve families, and if he’s serious, he should eventually talk to mine. We come from the same religious background.

We moved to phone calls. He was very talkative—honestly, he talked most of the time and would even cut me off mid-sentence. Once, he made some rude comments about me not knowing my area well, and I had to shut that down. He did apologize afterward.

At one point, I asked if I could set him up with a friend, and he got upset and said he was only interested in me. Around that time, I noticed a ring in one of his older pictures and asked if he was married or in a relationship. He denied it and said I was being weird and judgmental.

We kept talking, and I got attached. Since I don’t date casually, I suggested that if we’re serious, we should decide within three months whether to move toward engagement. He agreed and even said he’d make a final decision around his birthday.

In the middle of all this, my sister found out and told me I should at least inform my mom or do a background check. He didn’t like that my sister knew, which caused tension. We started having frequent arguments, and I would leave and come back because I was confused but still liked him.

As the three-month mark got closer, he suddenly seemed less excited about involving families. That made me uncomfortable, so I ended things and stayed away for about a week.

Then my mom mentioned another proposal, and I realized I wasn’t ready to move on, so I reached out to him again and asked if he could meet my mom.

That’s when everything fell apart.

During that call, I asked him directly if he was in the middle of a divorce. He said yes.

I immediately ended the call and broke down. This man had been telling me he loved me and saw a future with me, but he built everything on a lie.

After that, he kept calling and begging me not to leave. When I confronted him, he admitted he knew I was “fighting for answers” but didn’t have it in him to tell me earlier.

He claimed he was religiously divorced but not legally, and blamed his wife for everything—said she was toxic, caused his weight gain, didn’t do enough at home, etc. But from what I saw, things didn’t fully add up.

I still gave him another chance, but more red flags started showing. He became very possessive—he didn’t like me talking to anyone, even casually, and would get upset over small things. He’d say things like “you’re mine” and didn’t like anyone complimenting me. He also made me delete old Instagram requests and accused me of seeking validation.

I did delete the requests, but I was exhausted from constantly having to prove my loyalty. Eventually, I stopped wanting to talk to him and decided to look into things myself. I also asked my sister for help.

My sister did some digging and found information about him. I ended up getting in touch with his wife, but I didn’t reveal who I was. I spoke as if I was asking for a friend, and she told me everything.

She said he vapes, has always struggled with obesity, and has a porn addiction—to the point where he would cry in front of her about it. She felt pity for him. She also said he fantasizes about other women and doesn’t respect women, which honestly matched what I had started to notice.

The worst part is that he was also talking to another girl while talking to me, and that girl had also reached out to his wife. His wife said she felt bad for both of us and that this is just how he is. She also mentioned that he tends to go after younger girls because he thinks they’re easier to influence.

After learning all of this, I decided to end things for good.

When I confronted him, I didn’t tell him everything I knew—I just asked about cheating. He denied it and said it “wasn’t cheating” because I had left for about a week earlier. I admit I did leave, and I take accountability for that. But at the same time, he was the one claiming he loved me and was serious about me. He shouldn’t have been talking to someone else.

I asked him how he would feel if I did the same, and he said he wouldn’t be okay with it. He got upset just thinking about it.

He kept saying he “forgave me” for the fights and for “disrespecting” him, but I told him if he truly felt disrespected, he could have walked away too. Instead, he stayed while doing worse behind my back.

In the end, I told him I take accountability for my part, but I’m choosing to walk away for good.

There’s more, but this is the main situation.

So… AITA?

Birthdays are really special for me-my grandmother who raised me always made them feel special. Equally, my narc biological parents have tried everything in their ability ti try to ruin each special milestone including birthdays they skipped my first birthday. They made fun of me for feeling hurt on this. My mother burnt down my eighth birthday gifts my grandma got me (in front of guests, she literally burnt my gifts to shreds on the stove-from what I understand it’s bc she couldn’t stand that grandma got me my dream bday gifts). 13th birthday asshole jobless narc father sprained my neck for merely playing with my baby brother (i was an innocent 13 year old girl and he did this-no wonder he got what he deserved and remained a jobless bum while im a a doctor). Then my grandma died after my 27th bday, after which I slowly started realizing how horrible these people are. 28th bday they left me alone to go off to some extended family event when I went to visit home, 29th they made fun of me for having s fun time with my besties in Disney, 30th bday I begged them to spend it with me in Disney world esp bc I wanted my brother-the fuckers straight up said I’m not worth it, then went to Disney world on MY GRADUATION week with other people, this year I’m turning 31-my friends and I are going to Greece. They already had the audacity to ask months ago if I wanted to go on some cruise with them end of the month-I told them already I’m not going to waste my one week I get off this month by skipping my own birthday. Anyways, the don’t know about Greece-do I tell them or leave it alone? They do pay for my phone bills but other than that I live alone and pay my own rent and my own life. Figure I can just use airplane mode and wifi so they don’t try to ruin this milestone. Vs save $200 on a flight out of the airport closer to their house, and tell them I’m going to Greece and get a ride from them to the airport. Help me decide between telling them and saving $200 vs mental clarity and peace and forgoing the extra $200 to fly out from closer to my apt plz

I’m a 25 years old muslim female from India. Mumbai specifically. I’m here to write something out and get others’ opinions on this matter. So I’m an only child and while my parents care for me recently I’ve started to feel very oppressed and controlled. My mom’s been somewhat emotionally abusive to me since childhood. My father’s been sort of absent in many ways. Mostly involved with his friends. Like he only ever goes out with them. Never planned and executed a trip with my mom and me. So basically I only know “family trips” through either friends or movies I guess. But I’ve made my peace with it now. I don’t even wish to travel with him anywhere. I just feel bad for my mom sometimes.

Anyways, one of my best friend is getting married this year end and our group planned a trip to the north in May. We booked flights, stay and all. So yesterday I told my dad about it. Mom already knew (she was denying but she cane around). But my dad just started yelling that there’s no need to. I have already been there in Jan. And I didn’t “ask” him. I’m just informing. I know I did go there in Jan but it was a different place. And in my defence, I’m fucking 25. I don’t need permission anymore. I know how to take care of myself. I earn so I’m even using my own money obviously. I have stopped expecting monetary help from him since I started earning. That’s a story for another time. But yeah, is this right? During that argument I did tell him that I’m 25 and I won’t be asking him everything anymore. It’s pretty annoying convincing, over explaining myself, begging and what not. I’m genuinely exhausted of it all. He kept saying that I’ve become a nuisance. He regrets his ways of upbringing me. Then he said that this is it and he will get me married by this year end. Also said that if I go on this trip he won’t be accepting me back in this home.

I’m just extremely hurt and sad. Why can’t they ever let me go somewhere happily. It’s not like you’re taking me on a vacation. It’s not like I’m asking you to fund it for me.

Idk what else to do anymore. I’m mentally exhausted. Checked out from this place and people.

I cant even walk to the mailbox in front of our house to get my mail because “women arent allowed outside the house”. genuinely what type of fuckass life is this. for context im 17 years old. im not allowed to stay in the car by myself because apparently thats “unsafe for a woman.” we live in a very safe part of the suburbs.

im treated like a child. I dont have a bank account yet of course and I won’t be able to get a car because “women shouldnt drive”. i dont know what to do. i cant even go out into my back yard or open the front door.

the only places I CAN go, im forced to go with them and i have to wear the hijab the entire time, which i hate.

im crying while typing this I can barely think rn sorry if its incoherent.

I have been diagnosed with depression and anxiety 5 years ago and I currently use Venlafaxine 225 mg. I used to have really vivid dreams and sleep paralysis before and it has stopped for a while. I recently went on a trip and was happy but I still got really bad sleep paralysis and vivid dreams to the point I was so scared of falling asleep. I feel like the person depicted in war movies with PTSD- I'm in no way minimizing what people in war regions go through. I just need solutions as I know the reason behind the content of my dreams, however I don't know why I still keep getting despite accepting that situation. Sometimes I feel so drained because of these dreams, I can't even get off the bed and I stayed in bed until 5:30 pm today. I also got diagnosed with ADHD and am waiting to start methylphenidate.

I remember telling my ex therapist that I feel like I have PTSD and she introduced me to the word cPTSD. Based on the information do you all think I have cPTSD? If not could someone point me out to accurate resources? And how do I deal with my vivid dreams and paralysis by myself? I'm so scared. I feel like my 20s have been consumed by mental health issues and no one believes me anymore because I am constantly complaining about something and making up something.

I wanted to post on here, i think being able to talk about my experiences and maybe gain some reflections from people who’ve experienced something similar? Maybe even advice on how to deal with the guilt i feel. This is very longwinded, i’m apologizing in advance for the length.

One week ago, I turned 21 years old. My mother was the same age when she gave birth to me, the only difference is my worst nightmare; I dont want to be anything like her. I say this with extreme bitterness, a sour feeling on my tongue as i recount the years of my childhood, and the fears that accompany the pain of my youth.

When she became pregnant with me, she insisted she couldn’t work, a self-proclaimed ‘domestic goddess’, the best housewife she could be. My father became the sole provider of income for the household, working days and nights, never ending. And when he got the downtime, my mother would degrade and insult him, I’ve always felt some attachment to him for this, a fellow victim.

Until I was three, I was a purse pet. An object for my mother to parade around, big green eyes and red hair, sweet cheeks and always obeying. Posts of me online, photos given to everyone of the picture perfect mixture of my mother and father. Always wearing a glittered princess dress and mismatch boots, always with my mother and her girlfriends. She was always a party girl, inviting dozens of people over to drink and do drugs, all while i was locked in my room, and when she got drunk enough, she’d bring me out to entertain them.

Then came my brother, the one my parents had planned, a boy, the best thing that could happen to them. After a long 6 months in the NICU, miles from home, my mother bathed in the attention of having a ‘sick’ child, using that to get whatever money and attention she could, under the nose of my father, whom worked full time to pay the fees of the stay while my mother pocketed the money. Family members bought clothes and food for me, and for the new baby. My mother would return anything with tags, to pocket money for her secret drug habits, and not so secret partying habits.

At the realization that having a sick kid was beneficial, she began to spoon-feed me ipecac syrup. I was suddenly ‘allergic’ to everything. Whenever i became genuinely sick, the cons of being a young child in public school, my mother insisted on giving me all of my medication as a suppository. A form of control that i will never fully comprehend.

With the birth of my little sister, my mother became fully unhinged. She would spend all day cleaning and cooking, all to hold it over my father’s head, whom spent all of his time providing for her shopping addiction. She pretended to have a purpose, while she threw things and pointed guns at my father.

As i morphed from a child molded by my mother, her opinions turning into my own, my mind developing into that of an independent thinker, my mother began to hit me. Well, hit me, snatch me around, throw me into ovens and walls, lock me in my room with nothing but a mattress on the floor, and laugh at my tears.

The first time I can remember, I was in second grade. My mother had taken up a hobby making hair bows, and I had finally worked up the gall to refuse it. I’ve always hated to disappoint people, the guilt would have worn away at me, had my mother not grabbed a handful of my hair, and all but tossed me into the oven. I hit my head, and the tears that had already been coming, didn’t stop. When I got on the bus, they were still running. My friend and seat buddy insisted I go to our teacher about it, and had this been any other situation, it would’ve worked.

When the DFS worker came up the driveway, my mother looked at me, and told me if i so much as say a word, I will see the worst beating I’ve ever gotten. This is after she’d gotten the phone call warning her, and I was hit across the head. In fear, I stayed quiet as my mother manipulated her way out of an investigation, and I knew then to give up. I was never getting out.

I soon became fiercely protective of my siblings, wanting to take the brunt of it for them, my sister unable to so much as speak during these years, my brother struggling due to his oppositional defiance, and yes we had our moments of arguing, but i wouldn’t dream of allowing him to deal with what i was given.

a mother, abandoned by her old party friends who had moved on to marriage and children, began to seek attention in any way possible. She gave up on the ‘sick kid’ grab, and instead began to read what would become her favorite website, WebMD, and began to figure out just how to fake whatever illness she wanted to have. This has not ended, this continues to this very second. We moved over one-thousand miles from my hometown halfway through my third grade year. My father had gotten a fantastic job offer, with better pay given the high risks. I try to avoid specifics here to protect his anonymity.

My mother gave up on being a ‘domestic goddess’ one year after our move. My sister begins preschool, my mother spends all of her time during the day at home. My birthday comes and goes, my paternal grandmother sends me 300 dollars for my birthday. My mother spends it, and tells me it’s for groceries, and guilt trips me for being upset. I still feel guilty for being upset, that money fed my little brother and sister, it’s selfish to want to spend it on toys and makeup. But I was a kid.

My mother’s treatment of me does not change. As i grow into a preteen, and the typical preteen attitude develops, I gain more bruises than ever before. We move apartment complexes, my mother befriends a ‘likeminded’ mother, one who agrees with the ‘discipline’ my mother provides her child. I begin to spend my days cleaning, bringing my mother coffee cup by cup, as she sits in her bed and chainsmokes cigarettes in her bedroom. The pile of trash besides her bed grows and grows as she moves less and less. I cook dinner every night that my father isn’t home, which is most nights.

I share a room with my little sister. My brother has his own. I help teach them to clean, but they’re significantly younger than me. My mother blames the mess on me, I get the punishment. My mother meets a new party crowd in this new state, I begin to think up many activities to keep my brother and sister distracted long enough to tire them out, so they stay away from the group, because if they approached them, I would be punished for not keeping them. My mother begins to loan me out to her girl-friends to babysit the kids, she charges them by the hour and pockets the money. This was when my mother began her relationship with pain pills. I’m responsible for 6 kids at once, and my grades begin to slip.

During my mother’s stint using the money she made off of me, between school and babysitting, I walked into the house to my mother with a man i had never seen, with a straw in her nose, and pile of cocaine in a plate on her bed. I later found out this was one of the many men my mother would ‘entertain’ while my father was at work. When she was finally caught out, my father finding her dating sights, the story flipped again, and again.

My parents had an old friend from high school is a long haul truck driver with his own company. He visits our apartment, he brings the assistant manager with him. My parents, excited to see an old friend , invite them both to stay. The assistant manager watches me take a shower, without my knowledge. I have a pit in my stomach, and insist my sister not sleep on the bottom bunk of our bunkbed alone, I join her. The man sneaks into our room, and kisses me goodnight. I’m 11 years old, and I don’t understand the implication.

A weekend later, my dad joins their friend back to his home state, a few over, with the intention of becoming a fleet driver for this company. After a few beers, the assistant manager admits to my father that he finds me, the 11 year old girl, attractive. He admits to wanting a sexual relationship with me. My father almost went to jail that night, my fiercest protector.

During this weekend my dad is away, I tell my mother about the kiss goodnight. She tells me not to worry about it, lots of people have worse things happen to them every day, and the assistant manager ‘isn’t like that’. She recounts a story of her sexual trauma, one that she still recounts every time we argue, a story that changes every time.

Life gets worse for me now, if possible. I’m in middle school now, and we move to another state. A fresh eighth grader, unable to make friends, because my mother will begin texting them, trying to befriend them herself, and talking down on me to girls my own age. This happens more than ten times. I draw away from everyone.

My woodshop teacher takes an interest in me, one beyond the natural limits of a teacher and a thirteen year old girl. He begins asking me to stay after, I refuse time and time again. The last time I went to the class, he rubbed my back, shoulders, hips, and finally my breasts. I left, fully accepting the writeups, and tell my mother. She reacts the same as the last time, telling me that she had it worse and I am just too dramatic. I tell my father, and he makes a police report. My mother goes behind him, and it gets dismissed. I beg and plead, and finally get homeschooled. I stay home, I do not sleep. For a year, I do all housework, and my mother begins to call me her best friend. If i did not hang out with her, she would not feed me, she would not let me go to my room, she forced me to sleep in her bed whilst my dad was states away, hauling his truck.

My mother faked a seizure for the first time during my freshman year, before COVID cut it short. My little brother was scared to death, my sister didn’t understand yet. After months of doctors visits, my mother was never diagnosed with any seizure disorder. Her pain pill reliance grew, and she was introduced to ambien, a medication meant to be taken at bedtime to reduce the effects of insomnia. She took this at any and all hours of the day, in combination with narcotics, multiple at a time. I don’t know if I understand the goal of this, still. What I do know, is what i saw. My mother was unconscious during most of the day, only waking up to hallucinate, to fall in the floor on the way to the restroom, to scream and holler like a child when someone grew angry with her behavior. 2019 was the start of this. It did not end until 2024, when my dad finally found out the cause and had her hospitalized after it took multiple doses of narcan to awake her from an unconcious state, bare naked in the bathroom floor, where my little brother found her.

From 2019 to 2023, I began to be my mother’s sole caretaker, while my dad was gone for 2 weeks at a time, across the country delivering truckloads. I bathed her, fed her, and fell victim to the hoarding mess that began to grow faster than I could clean it. When my mom would wake up, I couldn’t hold back the bitter feelings that rose in my chest, as the childhood i wanted turned to ashes in my mouth as i raised two children and a mother whom acted like an infant. My dad moved us back to our hometown in late 2019. He saw my struggle, while unable to quit working, he decided we needed to be closer to family. My mother only got worse, almost as if this was permission for her to succumb to the disease that is drug addiction.

I met the love of my life at 15. The nicest man I have ever had the privilege of meeting, whom treated me like I was his only care in the world. I did not tell him about my mother for as long as i could. Embarrassed, and I never invited him to my home, fearing my mother would ruin yet another branch i tried to grow, either with her behavior or the hoarding mess that grew around me, and somehow moved across the country with us.

One day, I got to go to my boyfriend’s house. My mother, unconscious, but my dad, whom was under the impression this was a seizure disorder, agreed to take over for a day while I went.

His parents were kind. His house was clean. They had pets, they all had their own rooms. There was no screaming. You could eat anything in the kitchen. Nobody pulled guns, nobody hit. There were no drugs in sight. He was confused when I asked him for a snack, and why I needed him to go with me to the kitchen, because I was afraid of his parents getting upset with me.

It was days later when I realized I was so isolated, so out of touch, that I needed to get out.

It was a week later when I told my mother I loved him, and that I was going to move out on day. I was 16. She grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, pulled me close to her, cussed in my face, grabbed me by the throat, and sliced me across the left cheek with her fingernail, a scar i still have as a 21 year old woman.

This was the first time my boyfriend found out about the abuse. But I didn’t call it abuse, I didn’t know what to call it. That was the first time he contemplated coming to get me, consequences be damned.

Years went by, and 2023 came fast. I got to stay at my boyfriends more frequently during those years, my dad got a new trucking job that allowed him to be home weekly, when he was forced to take her back and forth to the doctors, he still wanted answers, and I didn’t have my drivers license, my mother wouldn’t let me.

I got my license the day I turned 18, one month before my high school graduation, my grandmother took me. In the same month, she offered my dad some money to buy a new car, so I could have something to drive. He got a deal, for two older cars using the money. My mother refused to let me have a car, the excuse ‘because I said so’ came up often. My dad argued for me, it was pointless. It was the same reason she wouldn’t let me get my license at 16.

There was no escaping her.

My mother’s mom, has lived far away for a long time. She came to our house for my high school graduation. She let me know that she had no idea how id been living, that she didn’t know how it was for me. That she was proud of me, for the way my siblings got to live while i drowned in the factors of my life. How she loved my boyfriend for giving me shelter and safety. How it was time for me to get out. She spent the week she stayed with me helping me with everything.

My mom didn’t remember she was even there. The day of my graduation came, my now preteen sister and my teen brother were in tears walking me walk the stage. My dad, who didn’t get as far, was beyond words proud of me. My mother was asleep in a wheelchair my dad had to body her into. She doesn’t remember my graduation. She did not apologize.

My boyfriend cheered the loudest for me.

I moved out one week after I graduated, my boyfriend’s family agreed to let me live with , so I could go to college.

My dad got a better job after my mother said she wanted to go back across the country. They did. They took my siblings with them.

I’ve never been able to put my experience into words. I’ve never been able to fathom how my siblings got to be treated so much better than I did, but that didn’t stay like that. The guilt eats me alive.

My mother was taken off of narcotics and ambien because my dad forced her to. I hoped this would fix things. He did too, because he got another cross country job, truck driving is his passion, and he is gone for weeks at a time. My mother learned to cover things up before he came home.

She wanted to be the ‘cool mom’, and I later found out she was buying drugs and alcohol for my siblings, and multiple of their friends.

My mother allowed some very horrible things to happen to my sister, at the hands of that ‘childhood friend’ they had, the same one who employed and defended the assistant manager. The assistant manager who got a taste for me and then went on to destroy the lives of multiple young women. The one who killed himself before he was sentenced to prison. The man told my mother about his intentions with my sister. She gave him permission, and he had a ‘relationship’ with my little sister for an entire year, and she knew about it, and condoned it. She told me one day, after she ran out of things to talk about. I hung up on her. I called the police. I called my dad. I refuse to speak with her now.

My mother allowed my brother to fall in with the wrong crowd, and now he is facing years in prison. He isn’t even 18 yet.

I wont get too into detail about my siblings now, this isn’t meant to exploit their stories.

I didn’t know it was going to fall apart, but I should’ve known.

The guilt eats me alive.

The guilt of knowing that sometimes, very rarely, I’ve enjoyed time with my mother. We have laughed together, right before it flipped on its head and I ended up crying in the grocery store. When we’ve laughed and then she’s punching me in the side of my head while forcing me to drive her home without a license because she’s too high to stay awake and drive us home. When she’s mad because I’m crying, and she’s falling asleep behind the wheel and running us off the road in the dead of winter.

I know for a fact my boyfriend saved my life, and I’m proud to say that he is now my husband. We just bought a home together. And hopefully, I will be gaining custody of my teenage sister soon.

My mother told my family that doesn’t live in my hometown that i am strung out on drugs. She told them my husband is taking advantage of them because i had mental problems. She did this because I dont speak with her anymore. I haven’t since I found out about what she allowed to happen to my sister. Any communication with her is through legal document only.

I try not to ruminate too much, a symptom of the OCD I’ve been diagnosed with for years. I try not to talk about that too much either, I’m terrified of becoming like my mother, I’m terrified of mistreating anyone, I’m scared to become a hoarder. I never want to be like her.

But sometimes, I open my mouth, and I hear her. People tell me I look like her all the time, and sometimes I see her in the mirror.

My husband says that the fact that I’m afraid of being like her, makes me nothing like her. But I dont know. I don’t know how this is meant to work. I’m in over my head.

I’ve been married not even a year. I just had my twenty-first birthday. Sometimes, I think about wanting a child, and then I think about my mother. I would never bring a child onto this Earth if i even had a thought of treating them the way my mother treated me. My biggest fear is to be like her.

My husband saved my life, I will never take him for granted. The days where i feel myself feelings alone and swept under the rug of the past, he pulls me out and makes me feel worthy and treasured. He took my baggage, and accepted it. He made my problems his own. He promised me he would never let me deal with this alone. I love him so much.

Sometimes the guilt of him dealing with this too gets to be too much for me. He always reassures me. There have been times where he gets angry for me. That never fails to amaze me, how one person can be so devoted to me.

I’m not a professional writer, and I definitely have a long winded edit dahead of me so this is at least bearable to read. Sorry if it still isn’t. I wasn’t focusing on making this a readable story, I just wanted to share my testimony, bare bones and all.

Thank you so much for reading, if you got this far. There are many things i’ve left out. I left many specific things out just because this is already like a mile long.

So , I'm a 18yr old Female . I have to live with my parents. I'm from India and as you might know, what kind of views does the society here hold .

Little background info , I currently live in a village though I'm giving the exam so I can move out and go far away for college. And my family is very backwards minded.

Basically I'm the older child. My you get brother is 13 yr old almost. I'm the one who does chores in the house. Chores as in sweeping the floor , mopping, dishes , dusting , making food on lotsof days and many itty bitty chores that add up throughout the day. I'd be studying for my exam and they'd make me get up to do chores for them even though my brother would be sitting right there. And they still expect top grades from me. And I have been tolerating this bullshit for a long while.

It's not jsut that. My parents hit us . Both. Not just me ( hitting me has gone down because I have grown up. Not because I'm grown up but because if they hit such a big girl , the neighbours will talk like what could I have done to get hit . My dad hits my mom. Talks down to her. I have literally heard him tell her she's equal to the shoes in his feet. We have financial problems so much mother has taken to being a tailor . She gets orders from a cousin of hers who sells fabrics. That's irrelevant. But yeah. She earns too. My dad doesn't earn much too. And he's liar. He lies about stuff here and there. About everything.

I have been tolerating these conditions for a while now . And the other general stuff women face. Bodyshaming by my mother ( she gets so triggered when I don't get affected by her taunts) .

Calling me names . I am not even allowed to wear jeans. I don't even own them. I don't have a single shorts. I don't have a single crop top , tank top or just top in general . Only shirts. The only things I have to wear are suit and kurta and kurti . It's not Even that I hate them. But I'm beginning to simply because I'm having to wear them and I don't have the option to wear something else even if I want to.

According to her , cooking, cleaning and all that is a women's job. I ask my brother to wash his own dishes after he's eaten. He doesn't when he feels like it. But the days he doesn't,I scold him. And if it turns into slightly raised voices between us , both my mom and dad jump in between by saying " so now he is going to wash dishes? A boy will wash dishes? Is it his job ?"

And it gets me so so pissed.

I feel like the closer I get to moving out of my house ,the patience and tolerance I've built up till now is running out. And each incident like this makes me blood boil.

I just needed to say something because I can't take my mom yelling at me over petty things and being transphobic anymore. I really suspect she has some kind of mental disorder, like narcissism or depression.

TW: If you're trans and sensitive to transphobic or hurtful comments, I suggest you don't read this because it hurt me a lot.

Once we just came back from the airport from Christmas holiday, we were eating with a friend of hers at a Japanese restaurant. I don't remember what led to this conversation but she started talking about "You and your dad make me want to suicide" so I tell her she should get therapy or counselling, she refuses really strongly and says her sleeping pills are doing the job for her. That's odd, I've never seen or suspected she was taking sleeping pills. This was back in 2024.

My mom is (50 something F) and my dad is (60+M)

So fast forward to the 19th of April 2026, we had family dinner. I went to check on my cat because he had just been de sexed. She wanted to get my attention so she said "女" which can be used for 'daughter' and/or 'woman'. I've already told her I would NOT respond to her if she calls me that, and I've told her I do not like being called that and she should stop. (Because I'm trans) I did the same, didn't reply because we've been through this and she started going off. (My fault but I already told her I wouldn't respond. We had an argument, I'll translate it down here

"You can't always ignore me because of that, I also don't like you calling me your mom, I don't like being your mom."
"Then why'd you give birth to me?"
(interrupting me) "You should call me aunt (in Cantonese, calling an older woman an aunt can mean that they're of friend status) or by my name"
So I repeat "Okay so why'd you give birth to me if you don't want me calling you mom?"
(Interrupting again) "If you're calling me mom then I'm going to call you daughter" (Which I get but she doesn't understand, I don't want to be a a daughter, I want to be a son)
"Then why'd you come out? (Referring to the womb) You could've stayed inside! You could've chose someone else to be your mom, you could've not come out. I didn't choose you" That statement she made was so fucking stupid, I could eat alphabet soup and spit out something more logical than THAT. I was stunned to silence
"Why'd you choose me to be your mom? Why'd you choose me to be your mom?"
"You CHOSE to give birth to me."
"Well I also didn't choose to give birth to you, I didn't want a daughter, I wanted a son."
"Then let me be your son, I don't like being a girl anyways."
(Interrupting me again) "Then before birth why didn't you tell them you wanted to be a boy? Why'd you turn out to be a girl?" (Okay what the actual fuck are you talking about)
"I didn't want a daughter, I didn't want a girl"
"You don't know how badly I wanted a son."
"Then have ME as your son" (Because trans)
"You are not a boy. If you're a girl you're a girl, if you're a boy you're a boy."
"So if you don't want me calling you 女 then you shouldn't call me your mom."

Keep in mind my dad said nothing. Talk about being there for the child you wanted.

She's also said that trans woman are 'pretending' to be women only because they want to snoop around in the women's restroom. After that she followed up with "You could have all the surgeries you want but you'll never be a real man."

That's all I can translate back to English because we were arguing in Cantonese, sorry if it's a handful but it's really important. I don't know how much longer I can live like this, especially when my final exams are here and she CHOSE to move out to another house DURING MY FINAL EXAMS. After that she acts normal again, acting as if it never happened. I fucking hate her, I want to leave this house, I want new parents. I didn't choose those two dipshits to be my parents, I don't care if I'm privileged. If the gods are real then why am I being punished like this (I don't think they are real.), I didn't choose this, I swear it's not my fault.

If you are not mentally capable or haven't considered all the possibilities, (Eg. having a child who's part of the LGBTQIA+ community, missing or gained one more chromosome, is mentally unwell, etc) then do not have children. if you want a specific gender then do not have children.

I don't know if I will still be here to read any helpful advice, but I just want anyone, even a stranger, to know about this.

So for context my mom is very weirdly sexual to me escp as a kid. I knew what sex was when I was 6 because she would talk and ask other adults about their sex lives infront of me while I'm sitting right next to her.

1. she would undress in front of me when I was 7 and when I said I want to leave she would say its fine because we're both girls. She would then make comments about how im going to get breasts like her and weird comments like this. She would tell me to watch her and when I looked away she would pressure me to watch her. I made it clear I was uncomfortable but It didn't matter because we're both girls.

2. My mom sa'd my dad infront of me from ages 6-12 she stopped when I started my period.They were fully clothed though, but my mom would hump my dad crotch and grind against him forcefully. And my dad would beg her to stop and not to do this infront of me but she would laugh and say I dont care. She would moan and say my name while humping my dads lap telling me my dad feels good. She would invite me to join in and would even get up and point at my dads lap.

3. I refused because even as a kid I knew it was wrong and I was like wtf. One time i did join in and I grinded against my dad's lap as my mom clapped and cheered me on while my dad told me to get off and stop.

4. 2 years back my mom talked about her sex life infront of me to my hairstylist. And when I said I heard that. She continued and went into detail I didn't need to know

5. when I was in 5th grade my mom sat me and my brother down. And I thought my mom was finially going to have the talk with us because she never taught us sex ed. She explained what rape was and then the exact next sentence. She said "I had sex with your dad last week" I was so confused.

6. she humiliates my dad and calls his penis small and make crude remarks about his privates and when he gets upset she laughs and says she can do whatever she wants.

I don't have any boundaries in my house because my mom doesn't care and will forcefully hug me and etc. My brother COCSA me when I was 6 and he was 9.

I know my dad has been sexually assaulted but idk if what I went through is sa? Btw im a minor

I have a letter I want to share, but because of the rules, I can't. Cam i talk to someone, because holy hell. My depresso is extra spicy today

cw smoking and self harm mentioned briefly

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was told they wouldnt do much, just shifting things and wiping down but they moved everything into bags, randomly grouping things and even moved stuff from the mental hospital (that i kept secret so now they probs know im seeking help) and now:

1. idk where anything is and if i want to find it ill have to "undo" everything and 2. its stressing me out bcus idk where anything is and if they found my cigarettes and razors. 3. my mom says my aunt and her helper (the people who did most of the cleaning) are gonna finish it and that i should focus on my exams even tho im like. not functioning now bcus everythings out of place

i know this sounds like nothing but fuck man i told them not to clean anything but theyre convinced that satan/jinn are in my room bcus of my mess and thats why im so "lazy" and tired and mentally ill and that its MY fault bcus i dont throw things away even tho its cus its gotten so bad bcus my mom used to threaten me and force me into cleaning that completely stripped open my privacy. but after that my mom and aunt were sooo smug and proud of themselves and anal about my sister not. bringing my pads into my room? 😭 what??? my room feels so fucking weird now. i feel so sooo exposed and it feels irritating that no matter what i say about not coming in and upending my life and turning it inside out these people (my mom and aunt) wont listen and will just do whatever they deem fit. they asked the helper to help clean and its so embarassing she had to see all that and also i know how tiring it is bcus she takes care of my bedbound dementia(?) grandma and my aunt and mom nitpick her and yell at her a lot and make her work harder than it already is

im so upset its driving me crazy bcus my mom complained about this cleaner who would "put things everywhere" but now she does the exact same thing to me?????? it frustrates me bcus i have to always handle their feelings with care and they do none of that with me and bully me and abuse me to this day still

I grew up with incredibly abusive parents, both physically and emotionally, they just hated being responsible for us and hated being parents. They would also withhold money from us as kids and young adults.

They shipped me off to my native country for med school eventually. This country is a very savage place and I was not in my right mind after suppressing many years of abuse from them. I was finding it hard to live off of the small amount of money they were sending me, the people just wanted to use and abuse anyone naive, and the studies on top of all this were super tough. Living situation was horrible too, had a roommate who was spreading rumours about me and stealing my stuff.

Needless to say, I lost my mind. To try to improve my living situation I began living with my thief of a friend and her bf (at his apartment). Began engaging in hookup culture there, although all it was doing to me was making my situation worse, both physically and mentally. Does this count as self harm? I don’t want to go into too much detail but essentially I was just hurting my body, for many years and willingly.

I am 18 but in no financial position to move out. My mother seems to have frantic or very intense mood swings and anger issues. Things would be fine for weeks then she’d suddenly become this angry person who does very unreasonable things to me

I keep telling myself I’ll find a way to move out but she eventually comes out this mood and somewhat acts like she loves me so I can’t help but forget it.

I don’t know what to do as she’s in this mood again and I can’t handle it she’s very mean and cruel to me.

I say this as an only child who has tried to defend my dad for years because all I wanted was to see a cool friendly father for myself. When i was 8 I got to know my dad was having an extra marital affair. I tried to look past it cuz mom was quite about all this. My dad is extremely emotionally abusive, WHICH I did not realize once I started noticing other wives and daughters with their fathers. As I started turning 21, I started to feel like I cannot tolerate his behavior anymore but my mom always kept pushing me down to “not cause him to get really angry and ruin home peace”. I still have a soft spot for mom given her abusive past and the abuse she’s dealing with now (my dad even threatens to hit her or worse) but it’s so hard to handle being quite.

Specially when my dad’s sister’s daughter (my first cousin sister she’s 20) started telling me that my dad makes her uncomfortable. Fast forward now, my dad is completely harassing her and cursing her because she isn’t giving into his shit. She was quietly taking the discomfort for two years and now she’s finally speaking up in the family and they are all shaming her for “enjoying his attention” for two years and now speaking up when she’s had enough….instead of BLAMING THE MAN? I live under my parent’s roof and the part that’s making this worse is…none of them know I know ALL of this. My mother, my father or my cousin. And not only my cousin, my dad has multiple women he makes uncomfortable on a daily basis and recently the girls (he’s keeping an eye on) are getting younger…

None of them know I’m aware how my father is treating them. They are hiding it from me because they want me to have a father figure and my cousin being so loud about it making it harder for them. I’m loosing my mind now. I feel like I’m about to burst like a balloon.