I Didn’t Ask to Be Born
- For whatever reason a parent had a child
They were dreaming the dream of being a parent, Or they just happened to get knocked up and stuck around.
They were feeling the pain of their own childhood and thought they could do a better job.
They were not sure they were immortal, so thought they would pass on their genes.
Or they were in love or hate, jealousy or greed ruled over common sense.
- so they had a child. And having agreed to raise it, they owed me shelter, safety and support.
- I wasn’t the one who needed to reparent you from your parents’ mistakes.
- I wasn’t responsible for keeping it a secret.
. . . .
- I didn’t offer you your first drink or hit of that wonder drug.
- I wasn’t the one who liked it. Or what it did for you.
Whether you wanted a party,
or a medication for your mood stream, fear or rage
or to quiet the voices in your head.
- I didn’t feed it to you, spoon by spoon, sip by sip. You did.
- So I wasn’t responsible for your bad head, jonesing for more when you were broke or the yoyos of your life and mood while you were using.
- I didn’t pick the people you allowed in our house and gave access to me.
- I wasn’t responsible for the times you were passed out, or confused about where you were and just who was watching. Or who you left unsafe.
- Nor was I responsible for the times the drug or booze made you rage and you lashed out, and I got in the way of your fist or foot. I shouldn’t have to apologize for needing medical attention. A child’s bones are fragile things.
- I wasn’t responsible for keeping it a secret.
. . . .
- I was not your therapist for your union,
- I wasn’t a saviour or the glue that held you together.
So if you were having adult relationship problems, it wasn”t on me to fix them or deal with them.
- I wasn’t your pony express, meant to carry messages between warring camps.
- I wasn’t responsible for keeping it a secret.
. . . .
- I was just a kid.
A baby who needed to be fed, changed, soothed. Given love and support as I was growing.
Who needed someone to watch over them. So they didn’t have an accident or get into trouble.
Given the opportunity to play and learn. And grow.
Like every child, I was allowed to test your love and authority.
Like every child, I had to learn how to become an independent, responsible, moral person in my own way and with my own dreams.
- I wasn’t responsible for your need to have control. Or for your obsession of how you wanted things to be.
- I had no need or desire to be your vision of perfection.
- I wasn’t responsible for keeping it a secret.
. . . .
- But having been born, I needed a parent who loved me and wanted me around. I needed to be shown that I was safe and loved. I needed to hear that I was loved and valued.
And when you couldn’t be bothered,
- I wasn’t responsible for keeping it a secret.
. . . .
Do you know who asks a child to keep a secret? Hmmm?
An addict and an abuser do. Not a parent.
. . . .
- I see you! I hear you!
You are being a manipulative, gaslighter. not a parent to me.
Yes, every parent errs. Yes you’re only human. Yes you had a hard life and it may have been harder because you were hurt too. Poor you!
Yes it was harder with me along on your journey. No you weren’t allowed to be selfish and needy, more than the baby who was lying there with no way but you to meet their needs. No one but you to be their parent.
. . . .
- I didn’t ask to be born.
So you should have stepped up and been a parent to me. and when you didn’t/couldn’t,
- I wasn’t responsible for keeping it a secret.
And I had every right to tell you, that you hurt me. Without you blaming me.
I have every right to heal myself and individuate. In whatever way I need. Without being expected to keep your secrets. And until I do, you are responsible for me.
Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy
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