My letter to my parents flowed out of me one day after seeing
a sibling being bullied by them…again. I spoke with my sibling, then began washing
dishes. Just a few plates in, I grabbed a notebook, pen, and let it all come
out. I thought I’d have to edit it afterwards, but the version I sent them is
exactly what I scribbled.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Dear Mom and Dad,
How many offspring of yours do you currently have an
excellent relationship with? How many of them seem to want to be a part of your
lives as much as you want to be in theirs? If you feel like your adult children
are angry or distant, or do a poor job of keeping in touch, do you honestly
think it is all of us with a problem, and that you have done nothing to provoke
us?
The truth is, I’m tired of your bullshit, your lies
(especially yours, Mom. You lie all the time.) and I won’t stand up for or with
you anymore. And right now, you’re probably thinking more about my language
than my point, because you are judgmental. We are not safe being ourselves
around you. You spend the whole time we’re together w/ an agenda to fit us into
our mold. Example for Dad: At Christmas, [my sibling] said, “Holy crap!” Dad,
you literally looked shocked. You composed yourself, stuck your nose in the
air, and asked, “Is there such a thing?” We all ignored you. Know why? Because
when your [child] comes home from her first semester of college and says “Holy
crap!”, if that is all you have to worry about, then you should feel lucky.
Example for Mom: I moved to NTBI and you stalked me on Facebook avidly,
clicking on the profiles of my new friends as I added them. We talked and the
phone, and you said, “Boy, that Shawna person sure is wild, isn’t she?” So I
went to see Shawna’s profile to find out why you would say such a thing,
knowing that without adding her as a friend, you could only see her profile
picture. And Shawna, in the picture, was wearing a green, spaghetti-strap tank
top. You obsess over insignificant details that you think are evil, but you
can’t even apologize for your own glaring faults.
I find it interesting, though, that both of your views on
those insignificant details only change depending on who you surround yourself
with and not with careful thought. I could never dress down for church. I could
not wear jeans, shirts with words, or often even dress pants, even after I took
the time to explain to you that spending so much time trying to look good on
Sunday mornings put me in the wrong frame of mind for church. But you cared
more about how we appeared to the rest of the church than you cared about my
wellbeing. Then, you get jobs at CCC and bam! Allie can wear jeans to church.
As far as the abuse goes, I have listed 3 examples to you
via email and phone call—one of spiritual abuse, one of emotional abuse, and
one of physical abuse. I need not list more.* You have yet to apologize for
just those three. In fact, Dad told *me* to repent. But I do feel that there
were two more types of abuse that I am adding to your list now, and those are
verbal abuse and neglect. Technically, verbal abuse and spiritual abuse fall
under the category of emotional abuse, but these are separated for the sake of
clarity.
Example of verbal abuse from Mom and indirectly Dad for
enabling it, as well as spiritual abuse from Dad: One night, in South Africa,
Mom would not stop insulting me and I kept trying to reconcile. Dad manipulated
me to do so, based on Bible verses about honouring parents and reconciling. Mom
sat on her bed, uncaringly spewing out the most hurtful things she could think
of. Being my mother, you took advantage of your biological bond with me and
your knowledge of me to hurt me in the deepest ways. When I could not take it
anymore, I would walk out of the room, go down to the living room, and sob
uncontrollably. I know you could hear me, because I was literally out of
control. I sobbed long and hard each time. Then, per Dad’s instruction, I would
try again to reconcile with you. It happened over and over. Dad would sit and
listen at the desk in your bedroom, never stopping to say, “Hey! You can’t
treat my child like this!” Fuck you both. Jesus wouldn’t have stood by and done
nothing. He would have put a millstone around both your necks and drowned you.
He would have grabbed a whip, turned over the bed and desk and driven you away
from me, because HE VALUES ME. It is only since the day I made the decision to
cut ties with you that I am clearly able
to feel his love.
 |
| found here: http://middlenameconfused.tumblr.com/post/36218784121 |
I am changing my phone number. I am changing my email. You
can no longer be in my life or my daughter’s. If you wish to contact me (for
the purpose of apologizing ONLY), you may write a letter and address the
envelope to David. He will read it and if it meets the criteria of a true
apology, he will pass it on to me. If not, it isn’t for my eyes, because I will
not subject myself to further abuse from your hands.
I do love you, but as far as I’m concerned, your abuse has
destroyed our relationship and you have forfeited your rights to the pleasure
of my friendship. I love you both and goodbye.
Savannah-----
*Please note that I certainly could have listed scores more of examples. I didn’t feel that need, though, because they were refusing to acknowledge the examples I’d already given. It was and is important for me to know that someone I’m dialoguing with is willing to see my side before I spend my energy trying to show them what I see.
After writing that, I typed it up and then had three qualified friends look over it for me. They all approved it and two of them said the same thing: “I’m proud of you.” I printed it off, signed it by hand, sealed it in an envelope, and scribbled “I Timothy 5:8” on the back. So you don’t have to check, that verse reads, “But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” I walked it to the post office myself and then I was done. I haven’t spoken to them since, and I have zero regret.
Many people have said to me, “When your parents die, you’ll lose the chance to have a relationship with them and you’ll regret this.” My opinion of these people is that they haven't taken the time to visualize a little girl being battered. I don’t know where this idea comes from that I should automatically desire a relationship with them because they are my “parents.” Our society needs to come to terms with the fact that there are some sick people in this world, and there’s no stopping many of them from having biological children. Reproducing and then abusing their offspring doesn’t make them parents. Parenting is what makes a parent.
In addition, I’ve been contacted by certain of their friends, who say that they can see how much sorrow my parents feel over me. In a way, I’m glad that those who have done so have no concept of how abusers save their tears for the public and their venom for the vulnerable. In fact, I keep a running list of things that they’ve told others about me, and it’s full of contradictions such as “We’ve apologized and she won’t accept it,” to “She’s going through a rebellious stage because we wouldn’t let her wear jeans to church.” They have never owned up to the gravity of what they’ve done, though (Or that they’ve done anything abusive at all.). When it comes to serious mistakes, repentance is only in their vocabulary for other people.
But I have repented. I’ve repented of thinking God was like my parents and that he makes for a really crappy father. I’ve repented of my self-loathing and believing I wasn’t valuable. I’ve repented of following their will for my life instead of delighting in who God made me to be. I plan to spend the rest of my life repenting, and that letter was what enabled me to start. It didn't make me a prodigal child. It made me a bird that was set free from her cage.
