I’ve had a bad relationship with my dad for years. He was very controlling and demanding when I was growing up (in the later years of my childhood). He never physically abused me, except for one time when he spanked me when I was around 13. But I grew up to be very scared of him. Indeed, to be scared of “man”… “men”… as a concept.He’s gotten better over time. He’s softened. Maybe it helps that I’m physically bigger than him now. But on the occasions when I see him (I live in a different city than my parents now), I still can’t stand being around him.My parents are still married. When I was younger, I wished they would get divorced, so that my dad would leave my life forever, and I could be happy with my mom and brother. The thing is, my mom is a very resilient and strong person, and she puts up with him. Why… and how… I’m not sure. But that’s how it is.Over the years, sadly… there’s developed something of a triangle between us. He wants to reach out to me. Indeed, he is cordial to me these days. He acts generally as if things are fine between us. I, on the other hand, need distance from him. As for my mom and me, we generally have had a great relationship over the years. From her egging it on, I have put up with my dad on the occasions when the three of us (or four of us, with my brother) have gotten together.More recently, I have made strong efforts to ensure that the times we ARE together (my dad and I) are relatively short. On a recent trip, I spent about three days with him. While the beginning was tolerable, the end wound up very badly.More recently, my dad’s birthday was coming up. My brother had made plans to go and see my parents, but when my mom asked if I could come, I said I had too much going on and could not get away. (This was, for the most part, true; I did have a lot going on… though, obviously, if I cared about him, I would have made the time for a trip.) She seemed to begrudgingly accept this.As for calling him on the day itself, I had a very difficult decision to make. He had always talked to me on the phone, and sent me a card (or signed one with my mom), on my birthday. And I must say… I liked that he WASN’T nasty towards me. I liked that he was at least civil, even if I didn’t like him. But this year, as his birthday approached, I felt even more resentful towards him than in the past. (Over time, if it ebbs and flows, it seems to just get worse on the whole.)So, what would I do? The answer: Well, the answer to what I WANTED to do was not to contact him. I did feel badly about this. But I felt it was what I needed to do.The day of his birthday, my brother texted me and asked if I wanted to give them a call. Though feeling sad about it, I did not reply to my brother’s message that day. And so, the day passed, and I didn’t speak to any of my family members for the next few days.Some time after that, I called home, wanting to speak to my mom. Whenever I call home, it is, obviously, always to speak to my mom, though I know there’s a possibility my dad will answer. This time, my dad DID answer. I asked if I could speak to my mom, and he said politely… well, to be honest, I can’t remember if she was there or not. But my dad and I exchanged a few polite words, and then, one way or another— by talking to my mom, or by hanging up— I finished the conversation with him.In the back of my mind, I did expect him to feel sad from my not calling. I do remember being surprised that he was as polite to me as he was on the phone that day. But I guess, in some way, I believed that he had accepted things as they were between us.Later, when I was speaking to my mom on the phone, she said that she had hoped to have my dad on the line, so the three of us could speak— but that he had left to go somewhere he had to go to, because he felt stung about my not calling on his birthday. My mom added that he (or maybe they both— I can’t remember) felt that I should be the one to reach out to him with a phone call first. I didn’t say anything in particular in response to this… I probably just said, “Mmm-hmm”… and after a pleasant-enough conversation, we both hung up.After this, an interesting turn of events happened for me— emotionally. At first, I remember thinking, “How ridiculous… Not going to happen,” along with some sadness. Sadness for a fellow human being who felt hurt. Hurt, as it so happened, by something I did (or rather, didn’t do).But then… I don’t remember how quickly it happened… this morphed into something very different: I came to feel ANGER. And not just anger, but rage. And believe it or not, the rage was directed to my mom.What… the… f---???, I thought. With ALL these years of suffering, of hurt, of pain, of sacrificing myself with respect to him for her happiness… all this time of her not appreciating my feelings… she had the NERVE to ask me to call him?? To want me to do that? It was absolutely laughable!I’ve pretty much always expressed myself peacefully to my mom. I can’t remember ever having blown up at her. Yes, we can have a civil conversation— with give and take; and yes, I can be assertive to her (though not as often as I wish). But I can’t remember ever losing my temper with her.Now, though… in my mind… I felt enraged. And I let this sit. Didn’t call either of them for probably a few weeks.During that time, a kind of emotional detachment happened in me. A wave of anger, resentment, distance, sadness… a mix of these… developed between her and me in my mind. I loved her; but I could not accept this lack of appreciation for how I felt, and respect for what I have gone through with him.
MY feelings were important! I was tired of feeling like they weren't.After that call, I had nightmares of him three nights in a row… of him antagonizing me; of him trying to catch me, physically. It was so awful, the way this recurring dream, in one form or another, came back at me. I had had such dreams many times before. This time, it felt particularly acute.I never wanted to be estranged from my mom. The thought of that made me very sad. She was one of the closest people in my life, and, indeed, I loved her very much. But the more I empathized with the great pain inside of me… the more I was able to put some distance between us.The other day, I got a voicemail message from her. It was a pleasant message, asking me to give “them” a call to catch up.Well, I would— call HER. But it would be a call the likes of which I can’t remember having with her before.I called her cell phone, and as it rang, I didn’t know whether she would pick up or the call would go to voicemail. I had prepared for either.When her voicemail greeting began to play, I felt a small rush of relief. After the beep came, I started to speak: Got your message. I hope your Thanksgiving went well. I was with [so-and-so] here. I want to tell you that I love you, and that I’m very angry by what you said last time. It’s clear that you just don’t appreciate or respect the great amount of pain I’ve gone through over the past I-don’t-know-how-many years. Not only do I have no intention of calling him, but I don’t want to have anything to do with him. And you need to accept that. If you want to talk more about this, give me a call back. If you can’t accept that, then maybe you shouldn’t contact me for the foreseeable future. ….I love you… Bye.That was a few days ago. I don’t know if she’s heard the message yet (she doesn’t use her cell phone all that often), but I haven’t heard anything back.Sadly, I know I have to brace myself for estrangement… though hopefully it would just be short-term.Sadly, also: I’m ready for it.I feel more resilient now. And, I'm glad to say, more free. I guess it's taken me a long time to be able to truly honor my own feelings as the most important thing in this situation. Now, I do.