The Gaslighting of the Millennial Generation. Caitlin Fisher
Could You Want: The Ignoring Parent
The “ignoring” parent fails to show up for the child’s needs. On the most extreme end of this spectrum, there is neglect and abuse: not feeding a child, abusing a child physically or sexually, failing to provide a child with adequate clothing, and so on. In general, the non-extreme variety of ignoring parents tend to their children’s physical needs but fail to meet their emotional needs. These emotionally neglectful parents may leave a young child to cry when upset or tell them to get over it or shut up. They may shame or bully their child, overtly favor a sibling over the ignored child, or not pay attention to their child’s emotional symptoms like depression or anxiety. The feeling of this parent is something in the neighborhood of, “You have a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food to eat, so what more could you want?” The answer, of course, is love, support, and attention, which are fundamental building blocks of healthy adult relationships.
The ignored child grows up to be an overachiever, hoping time after time that they’ll finally get their parents’ attention. Or they grow up to be a self-saboteur, knowing that their efforts have never mattered and will never matter, so why bother? Children of neglectful parents may develop anxiety (how can I do this so I won’t mess up or disappoint someone?), depression (what’s the point in trying, no one cares), substance abuse problems (I just want to feel something or not feel anything), and eating disorders (I just want to control something in my life).
My own childhood was one with an ignoring parent; my mother just didn’t know what to do with emotions. She dropped out of school and left home to live with her grandmother at age fourteen and subsequently grew up very fast. She then expected her children to also act like miniature adults, despite the fact that play and imagination are more developmentally appropriate than scrubbing and re-scrubbing the bathtub. My sister and I grew up feeling like we had to chase Mom’s approval through achievement in school and by performing our chores flawlessly. Laziness was the ultimate sin in our house.
From menstruation to sexuality to body image, my mother had no idea how to encourage growth, competence, or confidence. As a twelve-year-old, I asked her if I was fat. She approximated my BMI in her head, ran it through the filter of newspaper articles she had read about obesity in children, and left her response at “Yes.” When we had “the talk” about sex, I learned nothing of sexual pleasure or safe sex practices, but I did learn that it was the only thing guys want and that if I “came home pregnant, the only help [she] would offer me is the number to Planned Parenthood.” There was no safe space to learn what it means to be a girl or woman beyond “Don’t talk with food in your mouth.” It was all about image and propriety, never about what we needed emotionally. My childhood was spent aimlessly but thoroughly applying myself toward different projects in the hope that something would make her notice me as a person and not an extension of a mop.
When my physical needs demanded a trip to the doctor to investigate shortness of breath in gym class, I was prescribed an inhaler for exercise-induced asthma. My mother told me it was a fake inhaler the doctor prescribed me as a placebo and I just needed to lose weight. When I asked to go to therapy at age fourteen because I was suicidal, she let me see the open bills on the kitchen counter and did nothing to stop me from feeling guilty over needing care. At the same time, she told me I didn’t have depression and there was nothing wrong with me. When I was actually diagnosed with not only anxiety but severe anxiety at age twenty-eight, I was shocked. I assumed on some level that I had been faking it or making it up.
Countless friends and acquaintances have had similar experiences with their own parents.
Long story short: when parents act like the needs of their child don’t matter, don’t exist, or are a burden, it affects the child in fundamental ways into adulthood.
In a 2003 study published in Child Abuse & Neglect, Volume 27, Issue 11, researchers investigated whether emotional abuse/neglect are predictors of psychological and somatic symptoms in adulthood. They found that “a history of emotional abuse and neglect was associated with increased anxiety, depression, posttraumatic stress and physical symptoms, as well as lifetime trauma exposure.” The conclusion of their study states, “Long-standing behavioral consequences may arise as a result of childhood emotional abuse and neglect, specifically, poorer emotional and physical functioning, and vulnerability to further trauma exposure.”12
Another study highlighted a connection between childhood abuse/neglect and personality disorders.13 Specifically, researchers found that emotional abuse was a significant predictor of borderline personality disorder, and all forms of trauma (sexual, physical, and emotional abuse) were predictors of paranoid disorder. Emotional abuse of boys correlated to self-mutilation.
Simply put, an emotionally ignored child is likely to have any number of negative outcomes and maladaptive behaviors as an adult. Children who were raised with emotional abuse face two dangers when raising kids of their own. They may repeat the cycle, having never experienced a healthy example, or they may swing so far in the opposite direction, in an attempt to be different, that they end up stifling their children in a completely different manner with the same result. Of course, it is also possible to learn healthy coping skills and break the cycle.
I’ll Never Let Anything Hurt You: The Engulfing Parent
You might think at first glance that being attached at the hip and making sure to be engaged in every aspect of a child’s life is indeed more loving, effective, and helpful than being outright neglectful. However, the over-parented child often has similar emotional upheavals and feels just as lonely and ignored. When a parent is there to make every decision, to catch every fall just before it happens, the child never learns to crawl, walk, run on their own. They never have a mistake to learn from. Subsequently, they feel lost and confused when they finally leave the nest.
The engulfing parent may take on the responsibility for the child’s social life and activities, which may range from mildly controlling to outright projection of the parent’s own unachieved desires, later foisted upon the child whether they want to participate or not. These are the pageant moms, the bequeathers of family businesses, the sports enthusiasts who argue with umpires. Did they ever ask the child what they wanted to explore?
Rebecca reflects on a difficult childhood and an overbearing mother who attended middle school dances and even a job interview with her:
At the time, I didn’t know any different. We had just moved from Los Angeles to Eugene, Oregon, and I had only been to private Christian schools. This was my first time going to public school, so having my mom, twin sister, and disabled brother tag along [to the dance] seemed normal. Once I got to high school, I realized it wasn’t normal. Neither was my home life.
I don’t think I really understood my home life until I started going to public school. I was raised in church and church schools and had a very sheltered childhood. My parents divorced when I was ten and that’s when my family moved to Oregon. I’m the youngest of seven and my oldest siblings made it hard to be a teenager. Instead of asking or taking an interest in my life, my mom assumed that I was repeating anything my older siblings had done. I rebelled in high school and was sent back to private school. I moved out when I was sixteen and it took a long time for me to learn to be on my own. My mom always made important calls for me and I still have anxiety over talking on the phone.
My mother going to my first job interview with me was embarrassing. I didn’t want her there and I think she answered more questions than I did. Obviously, I didn’t get the job.
I even think the way I parent has been affected. I don’t want to be my mother, but sometimes I can’t let my three-year-old be a three-year-old. When my child plays with things that can make a mess or lead to any possible injury, I stress out and start to hover. My husband has told me more than a few times to just let it go and take a step back. I didn’t see my childhood or my mom in a bad way until I moved away from her, and even then it took many years.
This case is more extreme than the typical helicopter case would present, but a surprising number of people in my social circles had similar stories about overbearing parents. Engulfing parents may behave this way because