The divorce is your fault

John Brandon from Forbes magazine does a spectacular description of one of the most professional Influencers: 

Shay Rowbottom:

"Every time I see a video or post from Shay Rowbottom, I think: This will be something I can use, it will be insightful, and I’ll probably write it down somewhere in a journal. I have noticed a lot of other people comment and share her posts. They are often about marketing but she also started a new project helping people heal through a podcast and other materials."

 

"The divorce is your fault." 

These words were said to me at age 18 by my mother, shortly after my father moved out of the house. 

Even I, at age 18, knew that was possibly the worst thing any parent could say to their child. 

Still, even with this insight... 

I internalized it. 

I was consistently blamed for things that I felt no responsibility for. 

I was "bad", and that programming created a BAD self-esteem that I'd spend the majority of my adult life (even to this day) re-shaping. 

To make matters worse, she was a master manipulator at getting everyone to like her. 

Not only did I feel wronged, hurt, and misunderstood... 

No one believed me.  

Every adult friend of my parents, including my older siblings, bought her story that I was the bad guy. 

I was a bad egg, a bad kid. 

I was "crazy" - (and boy did this label stick!) 

I had adult friends of my parents saying things to me like,  

"How could you treat your mother this way?"  or  

"Look at what you're doing to your mom! She just loves and cares for you!" 

EH- wrong. 

That's the problem with NPD parents. They only "love" and "care about you" to the extent that you serve them. 

To the extent that you make them look good. 

As many of you have seen, I am an outspoken and controversial woman. 

I could give a damn about what people think of me, and I operate as such.  

This non-traditional behavior didn't fly with my mom, and her love for me was therefor withheld. 

I learned to depend on outside sources for validation, before learning that the true solution was within.  

This is likely why I was drawn to the entertainment industry. I always felt valued there, accepted.  

I craved the attention and love that my mother couldn't give me.  

And don't even get me started on the men I chose to enter into relationships with... (I'll spare you the novel).  

I was 18. Naive. Broken & Alone.  

That's where I come from.  

Now,  The point of this story is not to villainize my Mom, rather identify the cycle of abuse in narcissistic families. 

I used to hate my mom, I used to be so angry with her.  

But then I started studying the phenomena of "mothers who can't love", and I realized something... 

Her mother didn't love her either.  

And what else? 

Her mother didn't love her.  

And most likely, her mother before her... 

was also incapable of love. 

And the cycle of mothers who can't love continues... penetrates through generations until someone does the hard work of fixing it.  

Problem is... 

Have you ever tried telling a narcissist they have a problem? 

Doesn't always go so smoothly.  

I always say I don't want kids because I'm more focused on my career, and I'm just not interested in children.  

The truth is, my intentions behind not wanting children run much, much deeper.  

I decided long ago, while I was still in my parents house, that I would never have kids. 

I vowed to be the end of the legacy. 

My rationing was,  

"I refuse to ever, EVER! make a child feel the way my parents have made me to feel." 

I didn't trust that my own awareness alone would override this NPD I had inherited. 

I still don't. 

I'm not exempt, I have my own subconscious programming that would likely f*ck up a child, and I'm not willing to risk it.  

Not now anyways.  

Would you find it a coincidence, that my four adult sisters, have also all chosen not to have children? 

The irony is we're well into our twenties, some of us in our thirties... 

And my mom has yet to see one grandchild that she so desperately wants, and continues to ask for.   

Now,  

You can argue that a lot of this could just be attributed to all of the typical reasons millennials aren't having children. 

Still,  

One has to wonder, why out of 5 kids... 

Not one has an interest in parenting??? 

Hm... 

As much as I shit on my sisters, if their reasoning is anything like mine... they're smarter than I thought, and I'm grateful to see no one in my family reproducing.  

There's hope that this awareness is rising in society.  

And maybe we can turn it around. 

SO! 

Where am I going with all of this? 

I'll tell you. And if you're highly sensitive and easily offended, I suggest that you stop reading now.  

If you're not open to new ideas and ideologies, I suggest that you stop reading now.  

If you're pro-birth, I suggest that you stop reading now.  

Here I go: 

How many times have you heard the phrase, 

"Being a parent is the hardest job in the world."  ???, or "Being a Mom is the hardest job in the world."  

??? 

Probably often, and I don't disagree. 

If we collectively want to agree this is truth, then let's agree! 

Agree? 

Okay, Great. 

NOW -  

How do you think the job of parenting compares to say... 

Being a truck driver?  Or... Being a pilot? Or... Being an educator?  

Most likely, anyone would answer that being a parent still takes the cake as the hardest job in the world.  

Alright, awesome.  We are in agreement.  Great. 

NOW-  

What's the main difference between the job of parenting and these other jobs I listed above? I'll tell you. 

You need to learn how to drive trucks before you become a truck driver.  

You need intensive schooling and training before you can fly a plane. 

You need a degree and experience to become a teacher.  

If anyone tried to apply for these jobs without these prerequisites,  

they'd be laughed at.  

Yet...  

There are NO prerequisites, NO requirements - 

-Hold on-, let me repeat that. 

NO PREREQUISITES, NO REQUIREMENTS - 

ABSOLUTELY 0% OF ANYTHING NEEDED - 

To become a parent. 

((Besides having functional reproductive organs of course.)) 

SO! 

Call me extreme, but it's quite ridiculous that no one else has questioned this by now.  

Once again, I'll be the one to bring up the #HardToSwallowPills... 

What you're telling me is: 

Any old Joe Shmoe can raise a child...but got forbid we let anyone who hasn't driven a large vehicle before drive a truck? 

Jesus F*ing Christ.  

No wonder there's a lot of broken & idiotic people in the world. 

The reason the pilot gets trained is because we collectively agree that he is responsible for the lives of the people that he transports.  

Much like parents are responsible for the lives of their kids. 

Yet... ((I'LL SAY IT ONE TIME AGAIN FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK!!!)) 

ZERO... I repeat- *ZERO* -prerequisites required.  

Zero experience, understanding, schooling, or qualifications needed. 

You don't need to have an income, a job, an education, a home, a clue about your own narcissistic tendencies... 

to raise another human being and bring them into this world.  

*Hard sigh*

 

Am I the only one who finds this very sad? 

 
 

On the outside, my mom looked like the stereotypical ideal mother.  

Attractive, middle class, college-educated, "loving".  

She lived in a big house in the suburbs where her kids could play outside.  

My parents always provided us with food to eat and a roof over our head.  

But they neglected to teach us one simple thing: 

How to love ourselves for who we are.  

She was the pilot, flying the plane without one ounce of training. 

"But- you survived! I mean, you're here! You're alive!" 

HA! 

Barely...  

I was dead for a very, very long time. 

She killed my spirit.  

She sucked the energy out of me.  

She killed my self-esteem, my self-worth, and most painfully... 

My chance at a healthy relationship with my siblings.  

Don't you dare tell me that she did "just fine." 

She didn't do the work of raising me properly, and I'm paying the price. 

I parent myself, and I work daily to reverse the toxic behaviors she passed down to me.  

I, like so many who have to go through this, am bitter to be put in such a position.  

((And I'm working on that too.)) 

I mourn the loss of the mother I never truly had... 

I let go of the voice in my head that says, "Maybe things will be different this time!" Every time she tries to pull me back in.  

So, yeah. 

Even blonde suburban educated white women... who seemingly look like the ideal candidate. 

Can be terrible, terrible mothers. 

And can royally F*ck up their kids.  

I'm sure they'd be crushed if they ever heard me say this, but... 

My parents were not qualified to have children.  

Educated, financially stable, good neighborhoods, good school-system... 

Sorry, it isn't enough.  

With all these great things, STILL... I REPEAT... 

My parents were NOT qualified to have children.  

They should have been incentivized to learn first about their own toxic behaviors, and done the important work of healing their OWN traumas, before bringing additional life into this world.  

How can we incentivize people who are interested in becoming parents to do this? 

Truthfully, I don't have all the answers. 

But, I'm asking the difficult questions.  

And that's a start.  
 

If you're reading this and thinking "But it's a God-given human right for anyone to reproduce!" 

Ask yourself,  

Is it a God-given human right to be born into a family that loves you? 

Not conditional, fake love that won't raise any red flags to neighbors...  

Real, deep, unconditional... "I love you for who you are not what you do for me." 

Kind of love. 

Now THAT seems like something worth fighting for.  

 
 

My heart goes out to every child who's currently going through what I had to go through.  

Many of them who have it much, much worse.  

I was once you, and I know how you feel.  

I will fight for a change.  

I will use my own experience to put an end to this pain.  

I will fight for you, and the rights of all children everywhere... 

To have a loving,  

qualified home.  

---

Republished by Persona Digest from LinkedIn.com