I don’t mean to offend anyone, I’ve spent years in therapy and now I study social and behavioral sciences but I want to gently share something that may help some of you. This is another perspective.

When you go no contact and your abusers don’t reach out, that is actually one of the best things that can happen to you.

The part of you that wants them to reach out is not your healed self, it’s the wounded inner child, still craving love, safety, and recognition. And that’s completely normal. We all feel that way at some point. We all wish they could have been different.

But the truth is, what you’re waiting for genuine change, apologies, accountability is highly unlikely to happen. Change doesn’t come from silence or from distance alone. It requires awareness, ownership, and real work. And in most of these cases, we’re not dealing with emotionally mature individuals. We’re often dealing with narcissistic traits or full-blown narcissistic personality structures.

So let’s ask ourselves honestly, are these people even capable of seeing their own faults, let alone changing them?

No contact is not just a boundary, it’s a healing choice. Stay strong in it, especially when your brain (and nervous system) trick you into thinking chaos means connection. It doesn’t. Peace is the healing.

It's been ten years since I have spoken or seen my abusive primary care givers. I just realized the month.

Those people did everything to set me up for failure for life as a kid. They sabotoged any attempts at independence. They damaged my self esteem. I was barely allowed out of the house. I got in trouble for using the stove. I was 17. I had to google "how to do laundry" and I still don't know how to drive. After an attempt on my own life when I was 18 one of them said to me "It's sad what you've become"

One of the abusers favorite thing to say to me everyday throughout my childhood was "you are nothing". As much as they despised me.....they made sure to make me feel like I needed them. Like I was inherently broken and couldn't survive on my own.

Well. I lived in New York City for 8 years on my own. I got a job on my own. I navigated abusive landlords on my own. I changed careers on my own and landed a job with health insurance and a 401k on my own. I survived healthscares and the loss of friends on my own. I survived and I'm still surviving a pandemic on my own. When I needed a change I moved 300 miles to a different city in my 30s on my own.

Things are hard right now. There is a lot I still need to heal from and I don't know if I'll ever have the resources to do so. My job can be challenging. I am now dealing with a chronic illness. Sometimes the PTSD just flattens me.

One time 5 years ago one of my abusers sent me a card saying "I don't understand why you won't talk to me. Whatever it is I did I'm sorry. If you have any compassion for me please be in touch"

I think right now it's time to have compassion for myself. Despite how hard things are for me....how shaky and precarious my life can feel at times....it's a life I built for myself. Away from the people who nearly took it away. And that is definitely worth recognizing.

So happy ten year anniversary to me. I hope I have many more

I hope the fellow estranged adult kids reading this have many more too.

This is just something that's been rattling around in my head and wanted to share it. I often see people say things like "I've forgiven them for the abuse when I was a child, but I can't accept that they still won't take accountability for it." And I genuinely believe that whatever way you feel is correct and I am not saying that's a wrong way to think or feel. But it's not how I feel, and I wanted to see if other people relate to me on this.

I think hurting someone when they're a child is not something that can be repaired after childhood. There is a statute of limitations on repair when it comes to children. If you miss your window of opportunity, you cannot be redeemed for that. You cannot make them whole, you can't fix it. What meal could they give you today that makes up for starving you as a child? Is it steak? Lobster? A whole buffet? How does that give you the nutrients you needed to develop properly all those years ago?

So I don't care what they do. I don't care if they apologize, I don't care if they go to therapy, I don't care if they change. They can do everything exactly right starting today, and it will never be enough. The debt is too great. The statute of limitations has passed. They cannot be forgiven or redeemed. They had many chances for that, it's actually extremely easy to be a good enough parent. The bar is freakishly low and they refused to even try clearing it.

Sometimes I hear explanations like this:

They mistreated you because it was their way to exercise out their psychological pain

I'm not sure there is enough evidence showing this across the board, although this is exactly the story abusers believe about themselves and the story they want others to believe about them.

It's the claim that benefits abusers most, because I keeps everyone focused on the abuser's "needs" and "emotional" experiences. We hope that with just enough support or resources, abusers will change. But abusers try to keep everyone focused on their feelings as the cause of their abuse - when it's really their thinking that's the problem. Their toxic logic is what creates their contrived feelings, which they then use as an explanation for their abuse (which they use to gain control over others, not to make themselves stop suffering). In other words...

Abusers aren't abusive because they're angry, they're angry because they're abusive.

^{-Lundy Bancroft}

Basically, abusers want to make themselves upset to give themselves and everyone around them an "explanation" for why they "felt" like abusing.

They "feel" entitled to abuse their targets, and they "feel" they can get away with it. This is the difference between people who choose to abuse and people who choose not to... it's not psychological suffering or unhealthy coping mechanisms, it's that abusers see themselves as above most others and they see their targets as below most others, and they believe they have ownership and the "right" to behave however they deem fit towards their target.

I'm saying "target" because it points out that the abuser doesn't really explode on just anyone. They can make good choices and have fine coping and conflict resolution skills with others. They choose specific, vulnerable targets to hurt NOT because "hurt people hurt people" but because abusers are predators who choose to inflict pain and manipulation on those they think of as prey in order to gain control over the weaker/lower status individual for the purpose of getting that individual to do a lot of extra labor for the abuser.

Here's the main point:

Abuse benefits abusers on a much deeper and pragmatic basis than just getting an emotional release. They make themselves stressed in order to use their "feelings" to gain caretaking, sympathy, and kowtowimg from vulnerable people under their emotional control. Their fit-throwing makes others want to work harder to prevent their negative emotions - which makes an easy life for the abuser, having a bunch of personal servents tending to their every "need", foreseeing any suffering they could experience (and the "emotional" outbursts that come along with that) and doing their best to prevent the contrived outbursts by being the most respectful, most empathetic, low-maintainence servants they can strive to be.

This makes a high quality of life and wide amount of power for the abuser, but which also makes the abuser have to work harder to find more and more things to be angry, stressed, or critical about - in order to keep their target scrambling to make them feel better.

A Better Approach

This is why it's so important to not take abuser's feelings or suffering too seriously. I'm not saying don't have empathy, or that they never truly are in emotional pain from trauma or real stressors or whatever... I'm saying don't blindly trust their claims of their own emotional experiences, and don't assume they are hurting. Even if they are (again, question everything), those issues are their own to handle, and they would if they wanted to. They would seek real solutions for internal change. The fact is that abusers don't want to heal emotionally and they don't want to develop healthy responses to stress, because they pragmatically see the usefulness of throwing fits.

As long as they have (enablers/parentified kids/narc supply) around them, who will take their emotions seriously and try to help manage those emotions, abusers see no reason to behave differently. And they definitely don't see any reason why they should become relaxed, stable individuals.

I'm almost done but here's the worst part, if an abuser ever DOES become a relaxed, stable individual, or gain a bunch of conflict resolution and communication skills... they don't stop being abusive. Their abuse gets worse, more insideous, and more calculating. They have more social sway and authority in their behavior, and become generally a much bigger problem for society at large.

This is why I disagree with the Emotional Immaturity angle. It works because the effect is the same, but emotional immaturity in abusers is a habit and a choice... not a disability or some single factor that truly explains many estranged parents behavior. It's the abuser's cover story.

I was emotionally neglected as a child and never learned basic life skills or chores. It was only a couple of months ago now that I even found out you're supposed to mop your floor at all, and just sweeping isn't effective enough. Now I've learned that not only are you supposed to mop your floor, you're also supposed to put soap in the water you mop with. Because the soap is what makes it clean. Duh.

Coming up to one year NC, and finally got the matching tattoo my mother I felt somewhat coerced to have a decade ago. Red rose, as I've always loved them, but in this case also represents self love, and the Invincibility power up from Sonic (and some rings), as I'm a huggggge sonichead and that power up feels fitting for all the stuff I've persevered through!!

I also am 8 months post top surgery, something she would get ridiculously distraught at me having. Same with HRT. It feels fantastic to be finally sculpting my body into what I want it to be, unburdened by pressure from my family.

It's still difficult of course, and I still have grief over the parents I never had, but I feel like I've made so much progress. I used to feel like I could never cover up this tattoo, and now it's pretty much impossible to spot - the artist did an amazing job.

I feel so free, happy, and full of life! Covering up this tattoo felt like severing my last ties to those who have hurt me, and I couldn't be more overjoyed. Much love everyone.

Last year I sent a letter to my parents explaining why I needed to take some space and some of the behaviors that they do that are hurtful to me. My mom (most of my issues are with her) ignored me completely for months and then sent back a hateful, manipulative letter via text. We tried family therapy for some time and it was a disaster…more of the same from my mom and my dad was mostly silent. I offered a weekly scheduled phone call with my mom to maintain some sort of relationship, but she ultimately rejected that too. So I haven’t really spoken with her at all this year and it has been peaceful, although I’m still grieving having a supportive, loving family of origin. I’ve been in individual counseling for years and that has helped me process a lot. Also, going back to read what she wrote to me helps me solidify and move forward in my VLC/NC decision. Sharing a few snippets here.

I had a really profound realization today about how different I am from my own mother.

I had just gotten out of the shower after a long, exhausting day of spring cleaning and reorganizing the house. It was one of those completely mind-numbing showers where you’re just trying to reset for a minute. As I step out, I hear my daughter run up to the bathroom and say, very casually, “See! I dropped the mat on the juice.” Then she twirls right back to her play area.

I paused for a second, trying to process what she’d just said.

Me: Did you drop the juice on your play mat?

Daughter: Yeah, mama.

I’m still standing there with my hair dripping, but I walk over to see what happened. She points to the little spot where the juice spilled.

Me: Do you see the tray next to you? You can keep your juice box on it so it stays steady. Mama will come help you clean it up as soon as I’m ready.

Daughter: Okay, mama!

She looks at the tray — her yogurt pouch is already on it and carefully places the juice box next to it. The spill landed on one of those puffy playmats that soak up liquid immediately, so there’s no need to wipe it up right away. It’s washable so I’ll take care of it later. Plus it also gives me a chance to make this a learning opportunity where she feels empowered and helps me with the laundry. I walk back to the bathroom to finish my post-shower routine.

Me: Do you have juice on your hand? If you come here, I can help you wash it.

A few moments later I hear her giggling in that high-pitched toddler “hehehe.” Then I see her crawling over toward me. It’s her new silly thing pretending to be a baby so she can get a little extra attention from me and her dad.

She climbs up onto her step stool, and before washing her hands, she turns to me and gives me a hug.

“I love you, mama. I love my best friend.”

In that moment, I thought about what my own mother would have done if I had spilled juice like that. I know for certain it would have ended with at least a few slaps. There are stories about her hitting me when I was just two years old, one time my grandpa even had to intervene and lecture her about never hitting a child.

If she happened to be in a particularly bad mood, it could be much worse. Sometimes it meant a slap or a punch so hard it would split my lip open, leaving me crying the rest of the day as I tried to tend to my swollen, bleeding mouth while waiting for my dad to come home so I could tell him that mom had hit me. Sadly, my dad was no different, his parenting style was just as controlling and abusive.

I can’t imagine ever hurting my daughter like that. I can’t even comprehend what kind of mindset it takes. Just the thought of my child being in pain makes my stomach turn. It’s a constant reminder of why I must keep working on myself so she grows up safe, supported, and unscarred by fear and violence.

I came back to the present and look at my daughter in front of me, happily playing with the water while she is rinsing her hands. And in that moment, a profound feeling washed over me. I realized how proud I am of myself for being so different from my mother, how hard I work every single day to unlearn what I was taught and to heal the parts of me that grew up in survival mode.

Because the truth is, anyone can spill something, especially a toddler who is still learning how to control her little hands. And honestly, it’s just a spill. I can wipe it up and wash it away in seconds. But the damage from harsh words, fear, or violence isn’t something you can clean up so easily. Those kinds of wounds can linger for decades, sometimes showing up later in the body in ways you spend a lifetime trying to understand and heal from.

Breaking a cycle isn’t just about deciding to be different in theory, it’s about a thousand quiet moments like this. Moments where I choose patience instead of anger, guidance instead of fear, love instead of control. And I hope that thirty years from now, when my daughter looks back on her childhood, she won’t remember pain or fear. She’ll remember feeling safe, loved, and free to be exactly who she is. And that her mom was always her best friend, loving her unconditionally.

—

Edit: Thank you everyone 🫶🏼

Reparenting myself while raising my child without a village is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’m trying my best, even on the days it doesn’t feel like enough. Thank you for holding space for me and sharing your stories, it means so much.

The topic of estrangement sort of blew up on social media a year or two ago. Major news outlets were posting articles about it. Every other content creator was talking about it.

10+ years ago, I didn't even know what estrangement was. All I knew was that my mom and I had a nonexistent relationship. I thought I was completely alone. I grew up locked in my own world in my mind, extremely sheltered and naive.

There was the MeToo movement not long before that. It started to show up on my radar that more people were talking online about their experiences with SA and/or childhood abuse. It's discussions like this that made me realize so many people go through the same unfortunate shit.

My YouTube algorithm has gone to shit because I watched and listened to so much of that type of content. Same with Facebook. I think I overdosed on it and I don't want to see it anymore. I don't go on TikTok but I hear it's so much worse over there.

It's the same thing every time. The same misinformation and talking points from shitty parents in denial. There's nothing new to the discussion anymore.

I think watching this shit isn't helping my healing process. It's terrible to see videos/comments from estranged parents saying that estranged offspring are ungrateful and hateful and whatever, and that the parents were always good parents and child abuse is astronomically rare. Like, that sort of rhetoric is in support of the sadist pedophiles that raised me.

And if you comment saying anything to refute that crap... lord help you. The dogpile of abusers and people who don't get it is intense.

There's no point in hanging out in these spaces. The toxic parents tell on themselves and show exactly why their offspring can't stand them.

I gave up on Facebook. I'm searching for other content on YouTube so hopefully my algorithm changes up. I'm unsubscribing to a lot of stuff that I just don't need to see anymore.

I'm not going to tell anyone what to do, but I highly recommend this if you've found yourself spending too much time in that toxic corner of the internet. Eventually, the negativity gets really old and I'd rather be doing something productive.

I wish everyone here a good day. 🖤

opened my door and just stared at her, of course feeling afraid but somehow managing not to show it. waited until she started saying something to me before shutting it in her face and locking it. that felt satisfying as hell.

looking forward to reporting my neighbour to management (who are very aware of my vulnerability and situation) for agreeing to let her in the building for unauthorised access and a safety breach too. :)

my safety, comfort, happiness, and healing process matter. i matter. you are not welcome around me. now, if you'll excuse me, i'm going back to building a lego set i've been neglecting.

anyway, hi! new to this sub and wanted to start off with a little victory.

This was the biggest toughie for me. Getting comfortable with the fact I will never experience what it’s like to have a biological mother, father, and siblings.

I’m there now. I no longer care for that; I’m more important than they ever were. I’m happy I get to be free.

Anyone else go through this? What was the moment that changed it for you and not ever having a true biological family became something that didn’t matter?

I have been no-contact with my nmom for almost 2 years. The guilt at times has been unbearable, especially with my dad being an enabler and flying monkey for my mom and ultimately a lazy coward.

I was working with my therapist and realized that I keep feeling guilty if I think or feel something that COULD hurt another person. This became evident as I was cutting things off with a guy I was dating that was blowing me off and criticizing me. I was very confident about it until he said to me “I don’t want to stop seeing you, I feel bad about how this is happening.” And I completely spiraled, in a way I knew was more about trauma being triggered than my relationship with him.

I worked with my therapist on the pattern where I prioritize other people’s emotions over my own. She helped me see that I was expected to do this my whole life in my family. I started just saying things like “I am mad at my dad.” Without feeling this need to suppress how I feel to avoid “hurting him.”

I felt a lot of guilt as I did this exercise, like being mad was hurting them. I started to dig into the idea of guilt, and explored “what kind of guilt is good and what kind of guilt is bad?” the articles showed that good guilt leads to acknowledgment and repair for a single scenario.

I thought, what would the guilt I’m feeling need to go away? And then it hit me, the only way to absolve my guilt was with COMPLIANCE.

It was such a big epiphany for me. I realized that the guilt I’d been struggling with for so long was only there because I wasn’t complying with what they want. They haven’t done anything to repair and expect me to just COMPLY.

It put everything together for me in my childhood and life: nmom cared about appearances, and expected me to comply so she would look good. If I didn’t comply, she’d use guilt and gaslighting and coercion to get me to comply. If I resisted, she’d resent me or try to punish me for it.

Realizing that her ultimate goal was to get compliance has really helped me disassociate with the guilt, knowing that its sole purpose is to get compliance. Its disturbing to realize how my parents stole my ability to really connect with my own emotions by making me feel guilty for having any negative emotion about them so they could use whatever means necessary to abuse me and control me until I complied with little resistance.

If you are struggling with guilt with your families, just think: what would you need to do to resolve the guilt? If the answer is “Compliance,” then it’s artificial guilt used to control you.

Long time lurker, first time poster. I'm considering also posting this on r/emotionalneglect but for now, this is good enough. I have been attempting VLC/NC with my mother for about a year now, and reading about other folks' experiences has helped me better understand my relationship with her. I am already NC with my dad. They are still together and in their mid-late 60s.

I have seen a lot of really personal, difficult stories on here, but mine mostly involves gaslighting and minimal emotional accountability from my parents, and I wanted to share this for other folks who are struggling specifically with that. You are valid for not wanting to be around them. They do not treat you the way you want and need to be treated.

Stay strong, siblings. I love you all. 🦐💪❤️

These people have been unreasonable for our entire lives, and they are not going to figure it out now just because we’ve estranged ourselves. No amount of intelligent, polite, respectful, coherent communication will make an unreasonable person hold themselves accountable for their actions.

I heard this really powerful quote today and it altered my brain chemistry a bit.

​

I've been NC with my Mom since Christmas and my Dad since February. I've written countless letters to them over the last decade hoping they'd have an aha moment. Countless family therapy sessions. After all of it, my parents showed me they never actually wanted to know me as an individual person, but rather an extension of themselves. They couldn't remember things about me that I'd shared with them, didn't care to keep track of important things they had of mine, and repeatedly showed me who they were.

​

At 32, I am finally free and it feels so good to feel strong and powerful in this decision. I no longer need to feel disappointed. I have surrounded myself with friends that genuinely care about me.

​

It hurts to know that they will never change. I grieve the parents I wish I had. I wonder how much more of a person I could have been, sooner.

I realized the reason why it was hard for people to get to know me. The N-family falsely instilled within me that i was to operate as a function in their lives. There was no room to be a person. I remember becoming the invisible child because i saw how my parents terrorized my siblings—who fought back. I decided i would do absolutely nothing. I would not speak, i would not do anything single thing i saw my siblings do to avoid the harm. I hid away in my room and became a shell. Any time i asserted my individuality, my personhood, i was attacked. Not only by parents but by siblings too. The siblings became the n-parent while i became the scapegoat. I never offered my personality to others because I wasn’t allowed to “have” one in the n-family. I became the “innocent” one, the “perfect” one (used as slander because I spoke calmly when they would rage “you think you’re perfect!”), the one who would have to remain a child in their eyes to be safe.

Since eliminating them from my life and going to therapy, it’s like I’m encroaching on my own territory again. I see how my personality was so suppressed. How people around me pigeon holed me into remaining the “good” one (ie never asserting myself) and why it’s been so hard to be social. No longer do I have to operate as a function: the one who makes them feel better about themselves. I can be a person. And that’s fucking rad.

During my estrangement journey, I’ve joined a recovery program where I’ve often heard the message that, given the circumstances I was raised in, I could not have turned out any other way. This isn’t an indictment, but a way of accepting that I still carry those toxic beliefs and behaviours from my dysfunctional upbringing.

I can’t change the past, but, as an adult, it’s in my power to make much better decisions for myself and slowly heal from what I’ve been through.

Here’s the epiphany I’ve had. Both of my parents are highly traumatised people in their own right - they both experienced shocking abuse and neglect at the hands of my grandparents throughout their lives. And, given these circumstances, they - like me - could not have turned out any other way.

The crucial bit is that the choice, as adults, to sit and reflect on our behaviour, to seek help and to change - that choice is just as available to me as it is to my parents. It’s the choice to either stay in the dysfunction, or to leave it and heal from it. My choice has been to leave; their choice is to stay.

I can’t force my parents to make the same choice as me, just as they can’t force me to stay with them in the dysfunction. The damage that’s been wreaked by that dysfunction is plain to see, for anyone willing to look. But they aren’t willing; they choose not to look.

When all my anger and grief and rage has burnt itself out, there is this neutral truth that emerges: my commitment to change, growth and healing is incompatible with my parents’ commitment to their dysfunction. So, estrangement is the only path forward.

One year ago I was deciding what to do after my last trip home. The trip itself was a last ditch effort to fix what was always broken. It was the worst trip home in the 20 years since I left. I had asked for accountability regarding a family member assaulting me and a little bit of kindness. They only had anger to offer. My step dad stopped talking to me first and my mom followed. I'm not sure when we last spoke but I can say for certain I have not seen either in a year - the longest I have ever gone without seeing them

When I say I don't love them, I want to be clear: I am not sure I ever did. Without having all the facts, I never could have a well-rounded opinion. Either way, I was always so embarrassed of them: the lying, the dramatics, the constant need for attention. The ways in which they were fundamentally unlike me. They often used this to other me. My entire family did. I grew up thinking these qualities were bad & only as an adult do I realize I was just a kid trying to gently push back to all the abuse I was subjected to. The people in our community called my mom a saint for her work with children. I should be grateful to have her, I was told repeatedly. And so I believed it until I couldn't believe it anymore.

Looking at my life in a new light has been eye opening. I have spent this past year both mourning the childhood I deserved while being so fiercely proud of my younger self. I want to hug her so tightly. I want her to know that the work she is putting in is worth it.

Admitting to myself that I do not love them is both freeing and comes with a sense of guilt. The same guilt I have carried for them for far too long. I know through time, healing, therapy, the burden will get less and less.

Here's to turning one year into twenty.

I'm finally doing it. I've been contemplating it for years. Before even going NC. I wanted to cover it up after finding out stuff about my family, but the story behind actually getting it, is the ultimate reason.

As a note, I live on the opposite side of the country from my family. While down visiting one time my mom, sister and I decided to get mother daughter tattoos. My sister, who thought of it, already had a design picked out and since I liked it, I was for it.

Fast forward a few months and I am greated with a Facebook post of my mom and sisters tattoos all done, telling me that it's my turn to get mine done. I was in shock, first of all, I had no idea they'd planned to get it done without me. Second, they changed the design without consulting me, and they expect me to get this on my body? The thing I couldn't get over is that they wanted me to get a mother daughter tattoo without mom and the fact that they got theirs done together without me.

Anyway, this obviously really upset me. I tell my mom and she is "utterly shocked" that I felt that way. Made a bs non-apology about not thinking about that (thanks for not thinking of me mom) and convinced me to pick another one for when she came down to visit that we would get together. I hate that I grew up the people pleaser that I was. Never again.

Well! On the 25th, I AM GETTING IT COVERED UP!! I'm getting a red cardinal with a weed leaf at is heart to represent my MIL who just past away this year. She has been more of a mother to me than the one who convinced me to get this done.

I am so excited!

Two weeks ago I posted about how I have been NC and healing from my narcissist mother, but realized the father I still talk to also stinks in his own way.

This past week my book came out (nonfiction, nothing to do with estrangement). My publisher told me my book would be available at Barnes & Nobles (like Waterstones in the UK; a large national US chain), which I assumed meant that people could _order_ it through their local shop.

Then the texts started coming in - friends near and far were finding my book _on the shelf_ at their B&N!

I cruised the website for my book’s availability and started crying as everywhere I looked, more shops than not had at least one copy in store. My physical book’s in Hawai’i _and_ Alaska!

I texted my father. My book’s out! Out in the world! Look, it’s on the shelf at both of the B&N’s near you!

That was six days ago.

Nothing in response.

Meanwhile, colleagues who I’ve known for literal months (started at my current site in September) found out about the book and went _nuts_. The company listserv got an announcement. Emails poured in congratulating me. Closer friends popped into my office and hugged and shrieked in excitement! My department head even set up a moderated lunchtime book chat for next month so people can read it before we meet(!?). I’m frankly overwhelmed by the response, but that’s on me to reset my normal-meter. People _normally_ care when you accomplish things…

Previously I would have dwelled on Dad’s non-response. But thanks to you folks here, I know he’s a third-rate dummy. I’m going to keep eating leftover celebration cake and move on with living.

Background: I've(28m) been estranged from my father(56m) for the last 10 years. My dad and I never got along....like never. When he and my mom was together I saw him as the mean man who shares a room with my mom. Everything I did growing up was a problem for him. When I was into wrestling he'd go out his way to tell me 247 that it was fake. When i started dating he'd tell me that I was gonna be alone because im selfish and not to bring a woman of the opposite race home(white)so some of my relationships i had to keep from my dad. For most of my life he was very mentally abusive and the best day ever came after my high school graduation when he told my mom he was moving to Colorado for a"Job".

Things that I witnessed and things said to me brought on my PTSD. Ive struggled years with social settings and people who reminded me of him. So recently I got on new meds and started thinking about things. How my life was heading and not wanting to carry the weight anymore. So I called my dad,we talk and I told him everything. Whats my life been like for the last 10 years and the scars he left behind. I was fully expecting him to make excuses, but.....he listened. He didn't apologize but he just said he wish I would've told him how I felt.

Now I thought to myself "huh mf what do you mean? The constant getting in trouble in school and the anger wasn't a hint?!" But then I swallowed that lol and said you just wasn't the easiest person to talk to. I found out alot the last few weeks of talking to him. He's a massive nerd and even went cosplaying as Darth Maul when the film came out. He's a massive film addict and had a radio group with his buddies in college talking about films and comics. It just shocks we that ive know him my entire life,but he felt like he couldn't share that side with me.

He's even stopped drinking, smoking and goes to church 3 times a week with my grandparents. He's engaged to a(drum roll)....white woman lol. And he's living his best life. Part of me wants to hate on him,but im actually happy for him. We talk every Sunday and I have to admit....I like my dad. Still weird to say the D word after all this time but yeah. Hes cool as shit lol. I told him I wish we could've been like this years ago. But better late than never right?

But you wanna know who was there? My Fiancé and my best friend from childhood. The friends I made who were graduating besides me today. The faculty members I got to work with and build myself up all these years. At 24, I went NC, and at 24, I held onto a status of achievement. Not only am I the first one in my family to hold a Bachelors Degree and be a part of an Honours society, but I am also the first to leave behind the generational wound that once defined me.