Thank you, LinMaree, I relate to so many things here in your comment. I wonder sometimes if my incredibly elaborate imagination was in part a result of the neglect I experienced those first five critical years of my life. That's another story for another time and involves my father more than my mother.
"While not a dramatic, overt act of abuse, my mother's response subtly positioned me as the recipient of her unexpressed pain and unresolved grievances."
I still wonder why some people become aware of these patterns and others don't.
My mother once told me how she was treated by her mother and that she later did exactly the same with me. In that moment she was not ware of what she was doing.
But later she was, when she told me. Nevertheless, she didn't say that she felt sorry...
That actually shocked me a bit... she saw the pattern, knew what the damage done feels... but still not show any sign of regret or at least take it as a lesson for the future.
This lack of acknowledgement for harms done is yet more salt on the wound. For us FSA survivors, the salt shaker is an over-sized Peppermill-type. After my mother died, I opened all of the unopened letters I had saved over the years (still too 'dutiful' to discard them unread). I'm glad I did, because in one of them she wrote a sincere apology for her shortcomings as a parent. But the harm it caused me was not acknowledged even then, nor were specific incidences mentioned. Nor her part in creating and promoting the damaging 'scapegoat narrative' that has followed me for most of my life within my nuclear and extended family system.
Well said. My father never apologizes for harm.done either. He just says ",I am.sorry you had to see me fall".
Yeah well thanks dad for acknowledging all your falling did to our family.
And thanks for making me dump my kitten in a neighborhood on the way to school one day. I am still VERYdisturbed by that.
Rebecca, if I were your mother I'd have bought you every color of.tights but specifically black ones like you wanted, I would dress your wounds and take you to school that day to make sure you felt comfortable❤🌹❤
I think it actually did help to bring me a sense of closure - and peace - in regard to this childhood experience. Thank you for making the time to read - and comment!
It’s about 1959, my family is in a 1950s style motel room, out on the first night of a coast to coast road trip: we are heading West so my professor dad can teach college summer school. I am lying in a rollaway bed crying, apparently out of control, because my parents are scolding me, saying “You can’t possibly feel so sad, stop crying!” They had just informed me that my dog, my puppy I’d been gifted for my birthday the prior summer, had been given to “some people” and that I’d never see her again. I held my breath and continued crying into my pillow until I could finally fall asleep and escape into unconsciousness.
Decades later, I’m sitting on my daughter’s couch in her suburban living room. The kids have gone to bed and my husband and I have sat down to visit with my daughter and son in law. For the umpteenth time over years, my daughter brings up the ongoing family prodding question of “Why don’t you have a dog, Mom?” I lost it. I started crying and through my tears choked out, “I HAD a dog! But they took her! I never saw her again!” My daughter leapt to her feet, turning red with rage and stomping her foot, running from the room, not to be seen again until morning. Her husband stormed out behind her. Next morning the kids were up, we all walked on not just eggshells but shards of broken glass, then my husband and I went home. Wash, rinse, repeat.
I was the third of 4 girls: my older sisters were a tight unit and I always felt like odd girl out. When my little sister was born I was 5 and I thought she would be “my baby”. But to my surprise, they “took her” and made her part of their clique: I was still odd girl out. Then, that one wonderful summer I got Lisa. She was a cute long haired mutt with a pointed nose, black with a white tuft between her eyes. She did funny things like eat her own poop and then smile at me with it in her teeth. I adored her. I had her for just that school year, then she was gone. How could my daughter somehow know years later through family FSA to poke me there, then? Does it literally get communicated through the cells or the genome or the ether? It’s a ground breaking discovery you’ve made Rebecca. The world needs to know about FSA and the intergenerational destruction it fosters.
This is absolutely heartbreaking. I am deeply moved by this story of loss and grief you share here in relation to your canine companion, Lisa. And I agree: The world does need to better understand transgenerational trauma and dysfunction. And yes, as mentioned in my introductory book on Family Scapegoating Abuse ('Rejected, Shamed, and Blamed'), recent research indicates trauma can indeed be passed down in the DNA, which I find fascinating. I wonder, have you thought of doing some kind of closure ritual in regard to the loos of Lisa? It is never too late to grieve what we have lost and mark this with a symbolic act of some kind. This might be a good chat or private livestream topic as well.
Yes, the depth of the pain of losing Lisa goes far. And, sad to say, I never got my children a dog either and they suffered for it. Now they all have dogs. So glad they are getting the chance. Your suggestion is a good one re: grieving her and the effect her loss has had on my whole life, and my children's.
I cannot begin to imagine the pain that brought you songgirl7. I follow a guy who lost his dog in a similar way, he's spent his life looking for that dog & now runs a animal shelter with over 100 dogs, I think he's still looking. Animals love us unconditionally, unlike humans, we can trust them. I so sorry this happened to you.
So sorry that happened to you Songgirl7. We had so many animals, both wild and domestic when I was growing up. And I as the oldest and parentified was given more than my share of responsibility for them. Didn’t they know I already had enough on my plate? One day I came home from school and Rosco, our latest dog, that I had helped pick out at the pound was gone. I asked my mother where he was and she just said “Oh he snapped at your sister’s friend so I took him back. “ I couldn’t believe that I wasn’t even allowed to say goodbye to him. —-This just occurred to me—-I think the animals in our family were just a distraction from the lack of real love and affection between us. Isn’t it amazing how different our situations and experiences can be and yet the Suffering is still there?
Mmm, similar Donna, myself & my dear Gran took care of all the animals, pigs, ducks, chickens, sheep, etc whilst everyone else was still in bed. Then I'd get a mighty telling off for needing a wash before going to school. By running the tap, it would disturb all those still asleep !
So sorry they gave you a hard time June😢. When I was a child we had lots of small animals. But I always wanted to be on a farm and have the large animals. I got to experience that when I had my own children and then when I had my preschools. I called my first one Charlotte’s Web and still love that film to this day. My second school I called Web of Life and thats when I got my own horse, for my 60th birthday (that the kids could also ride because she was small). I learned so much from caring for the animals. But I know I fantasized about what it was really like for many kids who grew up on farms.
Thanks Donna ! I love the names of your preschools, fabulous !! I didn't grow up on a farm as such, my parents owned just a few fields where we kept all of our animals. My father's idea was that we'd never starve if we were more or less self sufficient, he'd been hungry as a child & didn't want this for his children. I did admire this in him. Trouble is I became so fond of all the animals, I could never eat them !!! A poor country lass.😊
I had to write down every animal/pet that I ever had as a child and what ended up happening to them. Neglectful behaviors, uncaring attitude of my mother toward my little self and needing guidance in caring and understanding . At three, I was given a German Shepherd puppy for Christmas. I called him Jingle Bells. He had a bell on his collar and I ran around circles with him on the patio outside, I fed him, loved him. Suddenly I am in the car and they are taking him, in a box, "to a farm where he can run and enjoy life". But didn't I run with him? Wasn't he happy and enjoying life with me loving him? I cried and was ignored. I find out 60 years later, my covert narc mother tells me he had distemper and they had to take him in to be put down. At 63, just starting my recovery, yet still codependent to her as "the good daughter" I was crushed that I wasn't told the truth. Now looking back, was that just another LIE that she told me to not have to deal with my emotions and my LOVE for my puppy? I don't know but last year, I had to write down all my pets and her ultimate undoing of my love for my pets that I LOVED. She didn't know how to love: her daughter, her husband, or our pets. The loss and grief, as I type this is still running thru me.
So Sorry, Ki M. When are we going to be respected enough to be told the Truth?My entire life has been based on Lies and Manipulation —-and my adult children, and now grandchildren, are following suit. I want no part of it anymore and hope that someday they will see what it’s doing to them.
I find I am beginning with respecting myself and telling myself the truth. It has been the one constant the I can count on. <3 Those that cannot accomodate that with me......kind of drift off. I hope that someday your adult children and grandchildren will see what it's doing to them also. I feel like all of humanity is in some form of opening and shifting into the truth. But, also each has their own journey and may or may not choose to see or discern the truth for themselves, therefore cannot with others. And, I gently remind myself that my journey and understanding is mine, and others have their own. Even if it's particpation in FSA dynamics, it is their choice. And it's my choice to not be part of it.
I agree with your perception of this shift among humanity. Some will embrace the truths and others won’t. And even if we’re from the same family, we are all unique individuals and may not agree. Some may need more time 🤷♀️.
Oh my goodness I just wrote above about this topic. What do you mean about doing something symbolic about the beloved pets these people ripped away from us? Ripped and tore us open without an ounce of compassion?
A closure ritual of some kind. Something that would give you a sense of honoring the connection you had with these animals and that might give you peace.
sounds beautiful. I can feel my heart opening (just with your inspiration, Rebecca) to something that I would do or find that would resonate with that honor and give me peace.
I held a ritual of my own back on the day of the solar eclipse. With a Native American sacredness, I burned a couple small documents that were representative of toxicity in the FSA dynamic and said a prayer with the intentions that it would neutralize and as the smoke rises to the heavens, return back into the Universe as "all energy" (neither negative or positive) to sever connections. With the eclipse occuring at the same time, I found it to be very powerful. And, lasting. However, there are so many rituals that can be done: in nature with plant and rock, water elements - at a small altar in a special place in the home and with pieces of remembrance to be included at the altar. Lighting a candle and breathwork, setting clear and highest and best intentions and sending them out into the air. Or grounding rituals. Many many to choose from or create what is meaningful especially for the individual. I suggest asking private chat, perhaps a discussion of what others may have found meaningful to them.
Songgirl7, I am in floods of tears for you and your sweet pup Lisa ... it is absolutely heartwrenching. The bond with our dogs and the comfort they give us is like nothing else on earth. The intergenerational spread of this pain is just devastating. Sending love and prayers to all hurt by it. Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you, Rebecca. The feelings of being, well, just emotionally ignored in so many ways show through in your story. That still is something I glitch at and have to work through. The closest to an apology I ever got was, “Well, maybe I hit you too hard when you were small.” I was about 14 when I heard that, and did not remember being hit - or had blocked it somehow - as I say, merry sunshined it away. She did, however raise her hand to me, even in public, me as an adult, fiftyish, the last time. That scenario at 14, made a lot of things clear though, and my search to figure things out began in earnest at that time. Only in the last few years have the puzzle pieces really come together, and relief, peacefulness with it. Gee, only 63 years. I do also see the generational pieces, and while I don’t hold them against either of the parents, it makes things easier for me to recognize I was correct in my thinking and assessments of what seemed so for me. Especially since my supposedly “overactive imagination” was the culprit. Total ignoring of me, or how I felt about anything. Because I was the ‘wrongness’ in the family, it’s important for me to see that I was correct - not right, but correct. Those are different to me. Sooooo many stories!
My heart so goes out to your 5 year old…especially realizing she didn’t have her note and the panic and concern around getting the note so much so that you couldn’t run fast enough and tripped and hurt yourself and ruined those precious stockings. It’s the panic of had done something wrong…let alone the uncaring of it all. Isn’t history repeating itself so damaging. Until you get into healing and allow that little girl to feel and get angry bc of being seen and heard. That is amazingly powerful🩷Thx for your deep sharing Rebecca…
I have been on the receiving end of this too many times to count...the withholding as punishment, the stinginess, the cruelty...I began to see it as a profound deficit, an impoverishment of spirit, a denial rooted in lifetimes that preceded my own. There was profound abuse and neglect in my father's family, my mother's as well. It wasn't about me at all. I hope your realization consoles this little girl. It wasn't about her either. Get your *new* red fishnet tights on girl!
The feelings of the little girl in the text, they feel so familiar Rebecca 😌. And the story is so lively, I can picture you as a child - and I feel for you ❤️
When I was a child I remember telling my friends; «if I get to have kids, they shall have all the clothes they want». It has not been exactly like that - but I have taken their clothing preferences serious. I have used a lot of time with them when looking for clothes - to ensure that they got something they liked. It is the look on the face of a child that enjoys his or her clothes 😍. I wanted them to experience that 🌿
You're welcome, Caroline, I am still reading your story, your stuff resonates with me so deeply! And my little inner girl wishes you'd been her mother, you would have gotten her the BLACK fishnet tights, ha!
Yes, yes Rebecca - I would have gotten her the black fishnet tights ❤️ And I guess you would do the same, if you was her mother 🌿
As I write this, in my sailboat, I wear a pair of jeans which I just love. This time I only packed clothes that I love. I feel like me, I feel beautiful in these clothes. I can feel the little girl inside me - she is excited about this new pair of jeans 🙏
It means so much to me that my story resonates with you Rebecca 🙏. I belive that is my misson - to write and create resonance, connection between us - and in that way contribute to healing 🌿. This is how I felt after reading your text and the comments about the girl in the red fish net tights ❤️
Yes, I have started on a book - named It ends with me. A memoir. Now I will take up the writing and the plan is to publish here on Substack - chapter by chapter 🌿
No, I had never heard about it before my therapist mentioned your book a couple of years ago. I believe the Nordic countries are old-fashioned therapheutically (the Nordic stiffness😅). Trauma is not either mentioned much. Nor the connection between abuse/trauma and disease. We are a combination of modern and shielded up here. We keep the lid on the problems (not me🤓🤓).
I have to catch my breath now after 7 hours sailing, mid ocean, with an old very scared dog. Finally at the faboules island Anholt 😌🐶💓
Rebecca, what an incredibly insightful, deeply loving and heartbreaking story. You are a beautiful writer and this story conveys so much deep truth. It has me in tears for the little girl, her mother, and all those suffering this kind of pain. God bless you for grappling with it and turning it to the good to help so many people understand, grapple, and heal.
Thank you, Wendy, I'm moved by your comment, truly, and appreciate the compassion you express toward me, my mother, and that little girl I was. One thing I have always been persistent at - and highly determined: Making lemonade out of lemons!
Thank you, Donna, I'll make sure that little 5-year-old girl in me gets the message! She's never told her story before and I'm glad I could help her to finally do that here.
Thanks for this Rebecca - a poignant and compelling illustration of how trauma gets past on. Sometimes we need to be in a really safe place to reconnect to parts of our vulnerability. Sometimes thats a therapist’s consulting room. But perhaps sometimes a hot bath is part of the equation.
I am working at coming to better terms with my own childhood neglect. All kinds of abuses, but it's the emotional neglect, the realization that my family never knew me. That I learned to hide myself bc of the ridicule I'd so often receive especially from my older brothers.
When I became a parent I was determined to be close with my children and I succeeded in and felt immense achievement for so many ways at breaking the pattern. For creating a nurturing affirming home.
But I also repeated it, in certain aspects, mostly later on when it was just my daughter and me, at times of great stress.
After experiencing a series of catastrophic setbacks including losing my 14 y.o. son to parental alienation by his alcoholic father, being wholly unsupported to transition from finally graduating college (had to stop/start bc no support) to finding employment, learning my 6 y.o. daughter had been abused by the teen son of a family friend..
Being stripped and gutted, while carrying huge unhealed trauma, ongoing traumatic life stuff..Never getting an opportunity to recover. Catch a break. Rest. Ever feel safe..nobody can survive without cracking.
My daughter began to experience chronic medical problems that I wouldn't learn until later were genetic as well as congenital spinal problems. We butted heads bc of trauma, conflicting temperaments, and that I'm almost certain she is high functioning ASD.
To my immense regret and huge remorse, I began to see certain familiar behaviors seep out of me toward my daughter.
It wasn't bc I didn't seek help. Therapists really let me down. Never addressing what I disclosed about my foo or my struggles with my daughter.
Since one of the biggest parts of fsa is believing that everything is your fault, this has made coming to terms with the ways I failed my daughter super difficult: any time I messed up, even a little, was "proof" I truly was worthless.
And I know I caused my daughter pain!
I would try sooo hard, but without understanding or proper professional support, the ways "intergenerational trauma" seeped out at times was hugely demoralizing bc it was yet another experience of being powerless.
I confess this here bc it's truly like this huge stone, still weighing me down. My foo of course never showed or taught forgiveness. I've come to realize that issues like holding people accountable, boundaries, believing healing from fsa is even possible is affected by this. I still don't know what the key or keys are to getting real and lasting progress.
Yes I've been learning about trauma responses, nervous system activation, living in a survival mode, common stress responses, etc. Realizing just how profoundly my traumatic childhood has affected me. But so far the stuff about self forgiveness has not gotten through.
What you've been through is truly unimaginable. Losing your son, fighting for an education and job with no support, finding out about your daughter's abuse, and then her health issues—all while carrying **deep, unhealed trauma**? It's no wonder you hit a breaking point. Anyone would.
It's amazing how hard you worked to break those cycles and **succeeded in creating a loving home** for your kids. That's a huge win, especially considering your own childhood. Your honesty about those familiar behaviors creeping in with your daughter during super stressful times is incredibly courageous. That's not a flaw in you; it's just how **intergenerational trauma** can show up, especially when you're completely drained and therapists let you down.
That "everything is your fault" belief that scapegoat survivors carry makes this all so much harder. It's understandable why any mistake felt like "proof" you were worthless. You've done so much work to understand your trauma responses, but it sounds like **self-forgiveness** is the missing piece right now, especially since your family never taught it. Those "cracks" you experienced aren't proof you're worthless. They're just evidence of immense pressure on someone who was hurting deeply and doing their absolute best in impossible circumstances. Pressure is a key ingredient to making diamonds. This thought helps me when I contemplate painful FSA experiences.
Lastly, although you didn't mention having flashbacks, it does sound like you're having a lot of emotional activation - Pete Walker's 13 steps to assist with strong activation have been helpful to me and others I know, so linking it to you here: https://www.pete-walker.com/13StepsManageFlashbacks.htm
Thank you so very much for your thoughtful reply. The validation from someone who truly understands is beyond measure.
Regarding the diamonds analogy: I wish holding this idea worked. Beyond the belief that my faults and failures define me, and because I have lived an entire life without being truly seen or understood or valued, or validated, I feel as though the mistakes and failures along the way of my life have just slowly erased me. And I've come to realize that there is like a connected belief: that no matter how much good I do, it's only because I'm trying to "erase" who I *really* am, i.e. how my foo define me.
And I know it's part of the sickness, but my logical self will think things like, "it must be true about you, because how else could people treat you the way your own family has?"
This struggle just feels like I'm stuck in a house of mirrors-any seeming progress and bam!
I'll still check out the link.
I'm glad you read and replied, bc my life doesn't allow for much consistent time online..I've thought this paid group might not be effective for me because quite often I will post on other social media, since when I do have the time, often will really need to get something off my chest, which is why I posted my comment here, because this Substack doesn't allow for participants to post on their own.
Thanks for your feedback! I understand you'd like the ability to create chat threads. To ensure a safe and positive environment for everyone, I've opted to keep thread creation centralized for moderation purposes. This helps me maintain the community standards and prevent issues that can lead to community dissolution - which I've seen happen here on Substack and elsewhere, sadly.
It sounds like you're going through an incredibly tough time, grappling with deeply ingrained beliefs about your self-worth and past experiences. The feeling of being "erased" by mistakes and failures, and the idea that any good you do is just an attempt to hide your perceived true self, are incredibly painful and difficult to carry.
The thought that your family's treatment of you validates these negative self-perceptions is a common and understandable way the mind tries to make sense of painful experiences, especially when you haven't felt seen or valued. It's a cruel cycle when progress feels like hitting a "house of mirrors," where you're constantly confronted with those same undermining beliefs.
Please know that your feelings are valid, and it takes immense strength to articulate what you're experiencing. I'm glad you were able to share this here, especially with your limited time online. I hope the link provides some helpful insights, even if it's just a starting point.
I completely understand your reasons for wanting to shepherd this group in a way that keeps it safe and continuing. I hope that it's OK if I will occasionally release some deeper pain and whatever insights I'm able to conjure, in whatever most recent post is up in the group. That way, my comments won't get lost. I really appreciate you taking the time to reply to me.
Yes, just make sure it is a private, paid members only post as some are public. I'm still toying with the idea of how I can make a 'standing' post where people can share as needed. A few of us publishers are asking for a 'pinned post' feature. That's the one way to would work. The community post where you all could share whenever you want would be this pinned post. I'll keep suggesting it as a feature. Would something like that work for you? In the meantime, I'm now thinking I could post a 'blank' chat on Wednesdays and people could engage in it however they want during the week until Sunday when I'm off. What's your thoughts on that?
I'm touched you would seek my feedback. I'm more used to just taking what's on offer and making do. I guess this means i've made at least a little bit of progress, to even be in touch with what I need.
Pretty sure a Stand and Share Here Wednesday thing could work. Time will tell. Thanks for being here.
I remember when you proposed starting a page centered on your personal story.
My first thought was, “This will be amazing. Just what the doctor ordered. A trauma-informed specialist analyzing their own suffering.”
Here is a single moment, a devastating kick in the teeth to a little girl’s highest hope. Failure, loss, emotional dismissal…heartbreak. And you wound it back to the shattered maternal instinct warped through generations of repeated abuse.
Yes, yes, YES!
What an exceptional insight, Rebecca. This will get us all thinking, looking back, reflecting and finding compassion for ourselves and those who preceded us. In the final chapters of my novel/memoir, it is the warped maternal and paternal aspects of my personality that become exposed, not just to me, but more importantly to themselves. They ultimately transform, in a remarkable unforeseeable manner, from twisted protectors to compassionate, loving parents.
Nothing is more important than opening up the generational trauma wound conversation, in this writer’s opinion, anyway.
Thank you, Rachel, your comment inspires me to keep going - This was my most personal 'personal reflection' yet; I don't plan them, they just kind of organically arise. I'm guessing that there are other stories this little girl has to share - along with other younger parts who also may have a lot to say! That this can all tie into my work on scapegoating and transgenerational trauma is icing on the cake.
You want a stories from childhood yet I have them a lot of them from adulthood too. So many that it would seem like I'm wanting sympathy or attention. I try to not think of the past and concentrate on the present moment. At this moment I am happy, peaceful, hold compassion and love for myself and others. I am raising my son with awareness, boundaries, love, and really good cooking. My family's abuse does not define me and I refuse to identity with their narratives.
Thank you Rebecca. After thinking about what I wrote, and since you and others have shared your stories, I feel obligated to share. Just not sure which story to start with. 🤔
You might introduce yourself in our Small Gains chat thread this Friday and just give an overview of your FSA history. I recommend 500 words or less - you can use a free online word counter to ensure it is around that many words; otherwise, people can get overwhelmed which can effect responses.
Rebecca thanks for sharing your story and being brave enough to tell it. Your writing is superb and I felt like I was right there with you. Feeling the ups and downs and then realizing your mum was projecting her past experience. You and everyone here validate me daily and it's so appreciative.
Thank you, Caro, and it’s wonderful to get to know you better here in our comments and hope you can say hello in one of our Chats - Main chat space is here - scroll UP to see past topic threads: https://substack.com/chat/2666152
Thank you, LinMaree, I relate to so many things here in your comment. I wonder sometimes if my incredibly elaborate imagination was in part a result of the neglect I experienced those first five critical years of my life. That's another story for another time and involves my father more than my mother.
"While not a dramatic, overt act of abuse, my mother's response subtly positioned me as the recipient of her unexpressed pain and unresolved grievances."
I still wonder why some people become aware of these patterns and others don't.
My mother once told me how she was treated by her mother and that she later did exactly the same with me. In that moment she was not ware of what she was doing.
But later she was, when she told me. Nevertheless, she didn't say that she felt sorry...
That actually shocked me a bit... she saw the pattern, knew what the damage done feels... but still not show any sign of regret or at least take it as a lesson for the future.
This lack of acknowledgement for harms done is yet more salt on the wound. For us FSA survivors, the salt shaker is an over-sized Peppermill-type. After my mother died, I opened all of the unopened letters I had saved over the years (still too 'dutiful' to discard them unread). I'm glad I did, because in one of them she wrote a sincere apology for her shortcomings as a parent. But the harm it caused me was not acknowledged even then, nor were specific incidences mentioned. Nor her part in creating and promoting the damaging 'scapegoat narrative' that has followed me for most of my life within my nuclear and extended family system.
Well said. My father never apologizes for harm.done either. He just says ",I am.sorry you had to see me fall".
Yeah well thanks dad for acknowledging all your falling did to our family.
And thanks for making me dump my kitten in a neighborhood on the way to school one day. I am still VERYdisturbed by that.
Rebecca, if I were your mother I'd have bought you every color of.tights but specifically black ones like you wanted, I would dress your wounds and take you to school that day to make sure you felt comfortable❤🌹❤
Aww, thank you, Laura. My little 5 year old thanks you as well!
‘Sorry’…that’s not a word that my people will use. It means taking responsibility and they don’t do that either.
One of my family members used the word sorry. They used it like this: "Sorry, I will never say I'm sorry."
I'm sorry Tim ! My mother was never sorry, it was always someone else's fault.
A perpetuation of the 'victim stance' such parents invariably are quite attached to.
This takes me back so many places Rebecca, I hope writing it out has brought some closure! Thank you for sharing 🙏🏽.
I think it actually did help to bring me a sense of closure - and peace - in regard to this childhood experience. Thank you for making the time to read - and comment!
I hope so too Aun !
It’s about 1959, my family is in a 1950s style motel room, out on the first night of a coast to coast road trip: we are heading West so my professor dad can teach college summer school. I am lying in a rollaway bed crying, apparently out of control, because my parents are scolding me, saying “You can’t possibly feel so sad, stop crying!” They had just informed me that my dog, my puppy I’d been gifted for my birthday the prior summer, had been given to “some people” and that I’d never see her again. I held my breath and continued crying into my pillow until I could finally fall asleep and escape into unconsciousness.
Decades later, I’m sitting on my daughter’s couch in her suburban living room. The kids have gone to bed and my husband and I have sat down to visit with my daughter and son in law. For the umpteenth time over years, my daughter brings up the ongoing family prodding question of “Why don’t you have a dog, Mom?” I lost it. I started crying and through my tears choked out, “I HAD a dog! But they took her! I never saw her again!” My daughter leapt to her feet, turning red with rage and stomping her foot, running from the room, not to be seen again until morning. Her husband stormed out behind her. Next morning the kids were up, we all walked on not just eggshells but shards of broken glass, then my husband and I went home. Wash, rinse, repeat.
I was the third of 4 girls: my older sisters were a tight unit and I always felt like odd girl out. When my little sister was born I was 5 and I thought she would be “my baby”. But to my surprise, they “took her” and made her part of their clique: I was still odd girl out. Then, that one wonderful summer I got Lisa. She was a cute long haired mutt with a pointed nose, black with a white tuft between her eyes. She did funny things like eat her own poop and then smile at me with it in her teeth. I adored her. I had her for just that school year, then she was gone. How could my daughter somehow know years later through family FSA to poke me there, then? Does it literally get communicated through the cells or the genome or the ether? It’s a ground breaking discovery you’ve made Rebecca. The world needs to know about FSA and the intergenerational destruction it fosters.
This is absolutely heartbreaking. I am deeply moved by this story of loss and grief you share here in relation to your canine companion, Lisa. And I agree: The world does need to better understand transgenerational trauma and dysfunction. And yes, as mentioned in my introductory book on Family Scapegoating Abuse ('Rejected, Shamed, and Blamed'), recent research indicates trauma can indeed be passed down in the DNA, which I find fascinating. I wonder, have you thought of doing some kind of closure ritual in regard to the loos of Lisa? It is never too late to grieve what we have lost and mark this with a symbolic act of some kind. This might be a good chat or private livestream topic as well.
Yes, the depth of the pain of losing Lisa goes far. And, sad to say, I never got my children a dog either and they suffered for it. Now they all have dogs. So glad they are getting the chance. Your suggestion is a good one re: grieving her and the effect her loss has had on my whole life, and my children's.
I cannot begin to imagine the pain that brought you songgirl7. I follow a guy who lost his dog in a similar way, he's spent his life looking for that dog & now runs a animal shelter with over 100 dogs, I think he's still looking. Animals love us unconditionally, unlike humans, we can trust them. I so sorry this happened to you.
So sorry that happened to you Songgirl7. We had so many animals, both wild and domestic when I was growing up. And I as the oldest and parentified was given more than my share of responsibility for them. Didn’t they know I already had enough on my plate? One day I came home from school and Rosco, our latest dog, that I had helped pick out at the pound was gone. I asked my mother where he was and she just said “Oh he snapped at your sister’s friend so I took him back. “ I couldn’t believe that I wasn’t even allowed to say goodbye to him. —-This just occurred to me—-I think the animals in our family were just a distraction from the lack of real love and affection between us. Isn’t it amazing how different our situations and experiences can be and yet the Suffering is still there?
Mmm, similar Donna, myself & my dear Gran took care of all the animals, pigs, ducks, chickens, sheep, etc whilst everyone else was still in bed. Then I'd get a mighty telling off for needing a wash before going to school. By running the tap, it would disturb all those still asleep !
So sorry they gave you a hard time June😢. When I was a child we had lots of small animals. But I always wanted to be on a farm and have the large animals. I got to experience that when I had my own children and then when I had my preschools. I called my first one Charlotte’s Web and still love that film to this day. My second school I called Web of Life and thats when I got my own horse, for my 60th birthday (that the kids could also ride because she was small). I learned so much from caring for the animals. But I know I fantasized about what it was really like for many kids who grew up on farms.
Thanks Donna ! I love the names of your preschools, fabulous !! I didn't grow up on a farm as such, my parents owned just a few fields where we kept all of our animals. My father's idea was that we'd never starve if we were more or less self sufficient, he'd been hungry as a child & didn't want this for his children. I did admire this in him. Trouble is I became so fond of all the animals, I could never eat them !!! A poor country lass.😊
I had to write down every animal/pet that I ever had as a child and what ended up happening to them. Neglectful behaviors, uncaring attitude of my mother toward my little self and needing guidance in caring and understanding . At three, I was given a German Shepherd puppy for Christmas. I called him Jingle Bells. He had a bell on his collar and I ran around circles with him on the patio outside, I fed him, loved him. Suddenly I am in the car and they are taking him, in a box, "to a farm where he can run and enjoy life". But didn't I run with him? Wasn't he happy and enjoying life with me loving him? I cried and was ignored. I find out 60 years later, my covert narc mother tells me he had distemper and they had to take him in to be put down. At 63, just starting my recovery, yet still codependent to her as "the good daughter" I was crushed that I wasn't told the truth. Now looking back, was that just another LIE that she told me to not have to deal with my emotions and my LOVE for my puppy? I don't know but last year, I had to write down all my pets and her ultimate undoing of my love for my pets that I LOVED. She didn't know how to love: her daughter, her husband, or our pets. The loss and grief, as I type this is still running thru me.
So Sorry, Ki M. When are we going to be respected enough to be told the Truth?My entire life has been based on Lies and Manipulation —-and my adult children, and now grandchildren, are following suit. I want no part of it anymore and hope that someday they will see what it’s doing to them.
I find I am beginning with respecting myself and telling myself the truth. It has been the one constant the I can count on. <3 Those that cannot accomodate that with me......kind of drift off. I hope that someday your adult children and grandchildren will see what it's doing to them also. I feel like all of humanity is in some form of opening and shifting into the truth. But, also each has their own journey and may or may not choose to see or discern the truth for themselves, therefore cannot with others. And, I gently remind myself that my journey and understanding is mine, and others have their own. Even if it's particpation in FSA dynamics, it is their choice. And it's my choice to not be part of it.
I agree with your perception of this shift among humanity. Some will embrace the truths and others won’t. And even if we’re from the same family, we are all unique individuals and may not agree. Some may need more time 🤷♀️.
Tears of sympathy....
Thank you, Wendy.
thank you Wendy. yours and the kindnesses of others here who can empathize with all our stories, brings tears to my own eyes.
Oh Ki, I'm so sorry to read this, my heart goes out to you !
Thank you, June. 🥰
Oh my goodness I just wrote above about this topic. What do you mean about doing something symbolic about the beloved pets these people ripped away from us? Ripped and tore us open without an ounce of compassion?
A closure ritual of some kind. Something that would give you a sense of honoring the connection you had with these animals and that might give you peace.
sounds beautiful. I can feel my heart opening (just with your inspiration, Rebecca) to something that I would do or find that would resonate with that honor and give me peace.
I'm thinking of having a 'creating ritual' private community Livestream sometime this year to help us with closure on certain things. Your thoughts?
I held a ritual of my own back on the day of the solar eclipse. With a Native American sacredness, I burned a couple small documents that were representative of toxicity in the FSA dynamic and said a prayer with the intentions that it would neutralize and as the smoke rises to the heavens, return back into the Universe as "all energy" (neither negative or positive) to sever connections. With the eclipse occuring at the same time, I found it to be very powerful. And, lasting. However, there are so many rituals that can be done: in nature with plant and rock, water elements - at a small altar in a special place in the home and with pieces of remembrance to be included at the altar. Lighting a candle and breathwork, setting clear and highest and best intentions and sending them out into the air. Or grounding rituals. Many many to choose from or create what is meaningful especially for the individual. I suggest asking private chat, perhaps a discussion of what others may have found meaningful to them.
Songgirl7, I am in floods of tears for you and your sweet pup Lisa ... it is absolutely heartwrenching. The bond with our dogs and the comfort they give us is like nothing else on earth. The intergenerational spread of this pain is just devastating. Sending love and prayers to all hurt by it. Thank you for sharing this.
Yes Wendy, me too !
I'm sorry songgirl7, simply heartbreaking for you !❤️
Thank you June. You are very empathetic!!!!! Feels very healing.
Thank you, Rebecca. The feelings of being, well, just emotionally ignored in so many ways show through in your story. That still is something I glitch at and have to work through. The closest to an apology I ever got was, “Well, maybe I hit you too hard when you were small.” I was about 14 when I heard that, and did not remember being hit - or had blocked it somehow - as I say, merry sunshined it away. She did, however raise her hand to me, even in public, me as an adult, fiftyish, the last time. That scenario at 14, made a lot of things clear though, and my search to figure things out began in earnest at that time. Only in the last few years have the puzzle pieces really come together, and relief, peacefulness with it. Gee, only 63 years. I do also see the generational pieces, and while I don’t hold them against either of the parents, it makes things easier for me to recognize I was correct in my thinking and assessments of what seemed so for me. Especially since my supposedly “overactive imagination” was the culprit. Total ignoring of me, or how I felt about anything. Because I was the ‘wrongness’ in the family, it’s important for me to see that I was correct - not right, but correct. Those are different to me. Sooooo many stories!
My heart so goes out to your 5 year old…especially realizing she didn’t have her note and the panic and concern around getting the note so much so that you couldn’t run fast enough and tripped and hurt yourself and ruined those precious stockings. It’s the panic of had done something wrong…let alone the uncaring of it all. Isn’t history repeating itself so damaging. Until you get into healing and allow that little girl to feel and get angry bc of being seen and heard. That is amazingly powerful🩷Thx for your deep sharing Rebecca…
You're welcome, Sally, you really felt that little girl and her pain (and shame) and I am grateful for it - and your compassionate comment here.
I have been on the receiving end of this too many times to count...the withholding as punishment, the stinginess, the cruelty...I began to see it as a profound deficit, an impoverishment of spirit, a denial rooted in lifetimes that preceded my own. There was profound abuse and neglect in my father's family, my mother's as well. It wasn't about me at all. I hope your realization consoles this little girl. It wasn't about her either. Get your *new* red fishnet tights on girl!
HA - that's a thought - Maybe I should get myself (and my little inner girl) those fishnet tights - Better late than never!
The feelings of the little girl in the text, they feel so familiar Rebecca 😌. And the story is so lively, I can picture you as a child - and I feel for you ❤️
When I was a child I remember telling my friends; «if I get to have kids, they shall have all the clothes they want». It has not been exactly like that - but I have taken their clothing preferences serious. I have used a lot of time with them when looking for clothes - to ensure that they got something they liked. It is the look on the face of a child that enjoys his or her clothes 😍. I wanted them to experience that 🌿
And thank you for sharing my text 🙏
You're welcome, Caroline, I am still reading your story, your stuff resonates with me so deeply! And my little inner girl wishes you'd been her mother, you would have gotten her the BLACK fishnet tights, ha!
Yes, yes Rebecca - I would have gotten her the black fishnet tights ❤️ And I guess you would do the same, if you was her mother 🌿
As I write this, in my sailboat, I wear a pair of jeans which I just love. This time I only packed clothes that I love. I feel like me, I feel beautiful in these clothes. I can feel the little girl inside me - she is excited about this new pair of jeans 🙏
It means so much to me that my story resonates with you Rebecca 🙏. I belive that is my misson - to write and create resonance, connection between us - and in that way contribute to healing 🌿. This is how I felt after reading your text and the comments about the girl in the red fish net tights ❤️
I believe this as well, Caroline - I can’t remember, were you thinking of one day publishing a memoir?
Yes, I have started on a book - named It ends with me. A memoir. Now I will take up the writing and the plan is to publish here on Substack - chapter by chapter 🌿
Caroline, I’ve been meaning to ask, is scapegoating addressed much in Scandinavian literature (self-help books, etc)?
No, I had never heard about it before my therapist mentioned your book a couple of years ago. I believe the Nordic countries are old-fashioned therapheutically (the Nordic stiffness😅). Trauma is not either mentioned much. Nor the connection between abuse/trauma and disease. We are a combination of modern and shielded up here. We keep the lid on the problems (not me🤓🤓).
I have to catch my breath now after 7 hours sailing, mid ocean, with an old very scared dog. Finally at the faboules island Anholt 😌🐶💓
Yes - so excited for you, Caroline!
* deeply moving. A typo but it is loving too!
Rebecca, what an incredibly insightful, deeply loving and heartbreaking story. You are a beautiful writer and this story conveys so much deep truth. It has me in tears for the little girl, her mother, and all those suffering this kind of pain. God bless you for grappling with it and turning it to the good to help so many people understand, grapple, and heal.
Thank you, Wendy, I'm moved by your comment, truly, and appreciate the compassion you express toward me, my mother, and that little girl I was. One thing I have always been persistent at - and highly determined: Making lemonade out of lemons!
Your writing is so beautiful Rebecca. So sorry you had to go through that.
Thank you, Donna, I'll make sure that little 5-year-old girl in me gets the message! She's never told her story before and I'm glad I could help her to finally do that here.
Thanks for this Rebecca - a poignant and compelling illustration of how trauma gets past on. Sometimes we need to be in a really safe place to reconnect to parts of our vulnerability. Sometimes thats a therapist’s consulting room. But perhaps sometimes a hot bath is part of the equation.
Thanks, Simon. For sure it is the hot tub with me. I have released a great amount of grief there, and it seems to hold and contain it well (!)
I am working at coming to better terms with my own childhood neglect. All kinds of abuses, but it's the emotional neglect, the realization that my family never knew me. That I learned to hide myself bc of the ridicule I'd so often receive especially from my older brothers.
When I became a parent I was determined to be close with my children and I succeeded in and felt immense achievement for so many ways at breaking the pattern. For creating a nurturing affirming home.
But I also repeated it, in certain aspects, mostly later on when it was just my daughter and me, at times of great stress.
After experiencing a series of catastrophic setbacks including losing my 14 y.o. son to parental alienation by his alcoholic father, being wholly unsupported to transition from finally graduating college (had to stop/start bc no support) to finding employment, learning my 6 y.o. daughter had been abused by the teen son of a family friend..
Being stripped and gutted, while carrying huge unhealed trauma, ongoing traumatic life stuff..Never getting an opportunity to recover. Catch a break. Rest. Ever feel safe..nobody can survive without cracking.
My daughter began to experience chronic medical problems that I wouldn't learn until later were genetic as well as congenital spinal problems. We butted heads bc of trauma, conflicting temperaments, and that I'm almost certain she is high functioning ASD.
To my immense regret and huge remorse, I began to see certain familiar behaviors seep out of me toward my daughter.
It wasn't bc I didn't seek help. Therapists really let me down. Never addressing what I disclosed about my foo or my struggles with my daughter.
Since one of the biggest parts of fsa is believing that everything is your fault, this has made coming to terms with the ways I failed my daughter super difficult: any time I messed up, even a little, was "proof" I truly was worthless.
And I know I caused my daughter pain!
I would try sooo hard, but without understanding or proper professional support, the ways "intergenerational trauma" seeped out at times was hugely demoralizing bc it was yet another experience of being powerless.
I confess this here bc it's truly like this huge stone, still weighing me down. My foo of course never showed or taught forgiveness. I've come to realize that issues like holding people accountable, boundaries, believing healing from fsa is even possible is affected by this. I still don't know what the key or keys are to getting real and lasting progress.
Yes I've been learning about trauma responses, nervous system activation, living in a survival mode, common stress responses, etc. Realizing just how profoundly my traumatic childhood has affected me. But so far the stuff about self forgiveness has not gotten through.
What you've been through is truly unimaginable. Losing your son, fighting for an education and job with no support, finding out about your daughter's abuse, and then her health issues—all while carrying **deep, unhealed trauma**? It's no wonder you hit a breaking point. Anyone would.
It's amazing how hard you worked to break those cycles and **succeeded in creating a loving home** for your kids. That's a huge win, especially considering your own childhood. Your honesty about those familiar behaviors creeping in with your daughter during super stressful times is incredibly courageous. That's not a flaw in you; it's just how **intergenerational trauma** can show up, especially when you're completely drained and therapists let you down.
That "everything is your fault" belief that scapegoat survivors carry makes this all so much harder. It's understandable why any mistake felt like "proof" you were worthless. You've done so much work to understand your trauma responses, but it sounds like **self-forgiveness** is the missing piece right now, especially since your family never taught it. Those "cracks" you experienced aren't proof you're worthless. They're just evidence of immense pressure on someone who was hurting deeply and doing their absolute best in impossible circumstances. Pressure is a key ingredient to making diamonds. This thought helps me when I contemplate painful FSA experiences.
Lastly, although you didn't mention having flashbacks, it does sound like you're having a lot of emotional activation - Pete Walker's 13 steps to assist with strong activation have been helpful to me and others I know, so linking it to you here: https://www.pete-walker.com/13StepsManageFlashbacks.htm
Thank you so very much for your thoughtful reply. The validation from someone who truly understands is beyond measure.
Regarding the diamonds analogy: I wish holding this idea worked. Beyond the belief that my faults and failures define me, and because I have lived an entire life without being truly seen or understood or valued, or validated, I feel as though the mistakes and failures along the way of my life have just slowly erased me. And I've come to realize that there is like a connected belief: that no matter how much good I do, it's only because I'm trying to "erase" who I *really* am, i.e. how my foo define me.
And I know it's part of the sickness, but my logical self will think things like, "it must be true about you, because how else could people treat you the way your own family has?"
This struggle just feels like I'm stuck in a house of mirrors-any seeming progress and bam!
I'll still check out the link.
I'm glad you read and replied, bc my life doesn't allow for much consistent time online..I've thought this paid group might not be effective for me because quite often I will post on other social media, since when I do have the time, often will really need to get something off my chest, which is why I posted my comment here, because this Substack doesn't allow for participants to post on their own.
Thanks for your feedback! I understand you'd like the ability to create chat threads. To ensure a safe and positive environment for everyone, I've opted to keep thread creation centralized for moderation purposes. This helps me maintain the community standards and prevent issues that can lead to community dissolution - which I've seen happen here on Substack and elsewhere, sadly.
It sounds like you're going through an incredibly tough time, grappling with deeply ingrained beliefs about your self-worth and past experiences. The feeling of being "erased" by mistakes and failures, and the idea that any good you do is just an attempt to hide your perceived true self, are incredibly painful and difficult to carry.
The thought that your family's treatment of you validates these negative self-perceptions is a common and understandable way the mind tries to make sense of painful experiences, especially when you haven't felt seen or valued. It's a cruel cycle when progress feels like hitting a "house of mirrors," where you're constantly confronted with those same undermining beliefs.
Please know that your feelings are valid, and it takes immense strength to articulate what you're experiencing. I'm glad you were able to share this here, especially with your limited time online. I hope the link provides some helpful insights, even if it's just a starting point.
I completely understand your reasons for wanting to shepherd this group in a way that keeps it safe and continuing. I hope that it's OK if I will occasionally release some deeper pain and whatever insights I'm able to conjure, in whatever most recent post is up in the group. That way, my comments won't get lost. I really appreciate you taking the time to reply to me.
Yes, just make sure it is a private, paid members only post as some are public. I'm still toying with the idea of how I can make a 'standing' post where people can share as needed. A few of us publishers are asking for a 'pinned post' feature. That's the one way to would work. The community post where you all could share whenever you want would be this pinned post. I'll keep suggesting it as a feature. Would something like that work for you? In the meantime, I'm now thinking I could post a 'blank' chat on Wednesdays and people could engage in it however they want during the week until Sunday when I'm off. What's your thoughts on that?
I'm touched you would seek my feedback. I'm more used to just taking what's on offer and making do. I guess this means i've made at least a little bit of progress, to even be in touch with what I need.
Pretty sure a Stand and Share Here Wednesday thing could work. Time will tell. Thanks for being here.
I remember when you proposed starting a page centered on your personal story.
My first thought was, “This will be amazing. Just what the doctor ordered. A trauma-informed specialist analyzing their own suffering.”
Here is a single moment, a devastating kick in the teeth to a little girl’s highest hope. Failure, loss, emotional dismissal…heartbreak. And you wound it back to the shattered maternal instinct warped through generations of repeated abuse.
Yes, yes, YES!
What an exceptional insight, Rebecca. This will get us all thinking, looking back, reflecting and finding compassion for ourselves and those who preceded us. In the final chapters of my novel/memoir, it is the warped maternal and paternal aspects of my personality that become exposed, not just to me, but more importantly to themselves. They ultimately transform, in a remarkable unforeseeable manner, from twisted protectors to compassionate, loving parents.
Nothing is more important than opening up the generational trauma wound conversation, in this writer’s opinion, anyway.
BRAVO! IMPRESSIVE! KEEP IT COMING SISTER!
Thank you, Rachel, your comment inspires me to keep going - This was my most personal 'personal reflection' yet; I don't plan them, they just kind of organically arise. I'm guessing that there are other stories this little girl has to share - along with other younger parts who also may have a lot to say! That this can all tie into my work on scapegoating and transgenerational trauma is icing on the cake.
You want a stories from childhood yet I have them a lot of them from adulthood too. So many that it would seem like I'm wanting sympathy or attention. I try to not think of the past and concentrate on the present moment. At this moment I am happy, peaceful, hold compassion and love for myself and others. I am raising my son with awareness, boundaries, love, and really good cooking. My family's abuse does not define me and I refuse to identity with their narratives.
Beautiful, Caro - you are a Cycle Breaker!
Thank you Rebecca. After thinking about what I wrote, and since you and others have shared your stories, I feel obligated to share. Just not sure which story to start with. 🤔
You might introduce yourself in our Small Gains chat thread this Friday and just give an overview of your FSA history. I recommend 500 words or less - you can use a free online word counter to ensure it is around that many words; otherwise, people can get overwhelmed which can effect responses.
Rebecca thanks for sharing your story and being brave enough to tell it. Your writing is superb and I felt like I was right there with you. Feeling the ups and downs and then realizing your mum was projecting her past experience. You and everyone here validate me daily and it's so appreciative.
Thank you, Caro, and it’s wonderful to get to know you better here in our comments and hope you can say hello in one of our Chats - Main chat space is here - scroll UP to see past topic threads: https://substack.com/chat/2666152