What's so sad is when we're younger, if you have a bad parent, that is normal to you and that's what you think of as healthy.
My father was frightened of his mother; I was frightened of my father, and I am damned well going to see to it that my children are frightened of me.
It was my father who could do no wrong. So I didn't think of it as, oh, look, my father's a violent man.
My father was a mean, controlling and manipulative person for most of his life. He was unpredictable and unstable. As a result, the atmosphere of our home was super-charged with fear because you never knew if what you did would make him mad or not.
Unfortunately, some parents simply don't love their children. Probably they don't even love themselves. That may be the heart of their problem. Having parents like this is a terrible burden for any child and can shadow him all through life. It can even destroy him.
Mothers are great. They outlast everything. But when they're bad, they're the worst thing that can happen.
My father established our relationship when I was seven years old. He looked at me and said, “You know, I brought you in this world, and I can take you out. And it don't make no difference to me, I'll make another one look just like you.
I grew up in an abusive home and was told on a daily basis by my father that I would never amount to anything and that I looked like a boy.
Conditional love is love that is turned off and on....Some parents only show their love after a child has done something that pleases them. "I love you, honey, for cleaning your room!" Children who think they need to earn love become people pleasers, or perfectionists. Those who are raised on conditional love never really feel loved.
My father was a monster. A monster! I cut with my family when I was 23 and I never see them again.
'Like Father, Like Son' gave me the opportunity to show when it is not good with a father.
I love Maude Pearson character from Agel. I love that she walls her son up because he has a girlfriend! In fact, I have that clip on my reel - her walling him up and saying, "What are you going to do about that streetwalker now? You belong to me! What are you going to do?" And did you know the ghost mom has her own Angel trading card?
Every woman's path is difficult, and many mothers were as equipped to raise children as wire monkey mothers. I say that without judgment: It is, sadly, true. An unhealthy mother's love is withering.
My father was actually controlling and abusive.
In my family, as in all dysfunctional families, instead of parents who act as strong and nurturing role models for their children, you get these needy people who use their children. I was the kid who tried to take on the marriage.
My dad had limitations. That's what my good-hearted mom always told us. He had limitations, but he meant no harm. It was kind of her to say, but he did do harm.
My kids look actually happy. And I learned early on that perfectionism and parenthood is a toxic combination for everybody involved. In other words, so many things can flourish naturally. All you gotta do is make sure the soil's right. I view myself more like a guide than a ruler.
My Papa's Waltz: The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother's countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle. You beat time on my head With a palm caked hard by dirt, Then waltzed me off to bed Still clinging to your shirt.
I don't want to make a cheap analysis, but when you have, like I did, a father incapable of showing emotion, who spends his life telling you that no one will love you if you aren't perfect, it leaves scars.
Dear Dad, When you sent me to school that morning, I thought you loved me. But now I see you for what you are. You called me a monster and a freak. But you’re the one that raised me.
I was afraid to admit feeling ill because even when I was 4 or 5, I knew that my father viewed sickness as a sign of weakness, of sin, of disobedience.
My dad was a womaniser, a gambler. He was violent. They thought if they left Scotland, they would leave the problems behind.
It's no wonder the narcissistic mother will always have a place in literature: she's a freak of nature.
Due to my sometimes erratic behavior, my children tried very hard to avoid me and not do anything to set me off.
My dad was abusive. And so he would say, 'You're my favorite.' Being a favorite of an abusive parent is not really a good thing, necessarily.
