We cannot choose our parents ourselves, and lets face it, they really can't choose us either. Or at least not our personality.
Some people should not have had children at all, that's quite clear, while others who never have children might have become the world's best parents.
Some children end up in great families where cohesion is good, there's enough time and energy to devote to each other and where you respect and accept each other. Some are born, however, in completely different families.
Some of us have experienced being ostracized because we might have a different sexual orientation than the "normal" one. Some are rejected because they don't follow the same religion as their parents. Others find that siblings are favored over themselves. Some experience pressure when parents try to live their lives all over again through the children. And of course we have the children who unfortunately experiences fear of every possible kind, every day, in what's supposed to be a safe base.
When you're a minor, then you don't have the big choices, even though someone actually run away from home. When you're an adult, however, one has a choice. You have several choices if you want.
People are influenced by the way they are raised when they're growing up, no matter how good or bad family bonds you've had, and it's not always easy to know what to choose when you're grown up.
Should you continue to live in the footsteps of the pattern that your parents have set for you, good or bad, should you choose a different direction and leave it at that, or should you choose a tough break up?
I had an OK childhood. I got enough food every day and had clothes on my body. I had a house to come home to. I had parents that tried to hide the world's reality from me up until I was 18. Then I sort of got thrown to the wolves. At least it felt like it.
And many years later, I've learned that some of the things that happened when I grew up wasn't suppose to happen to anyone. But that's another story.
I have met other requirements for me than those set for my brother. One of my clearest memories are from the swimming lessons at school. Up until 6th grade I used my mother's old swimming suit, which was from 1950 or 1960's. It was about 25 years old when I used it. It had no holes and was barely used. But it was my mother's.
I still remember how proud I was the day I got my own one, light blue with white edges. It was a brand new swimsuit. It does something to a 12-year-old. My brother got new clothes and shoes whenever he needed it, because he attended classes with many wealthy parents, and his classmates wore expensive clothes. As a result, my parents had no money left for me, and I didn't dare ask for something new.
The requirements for grades and behavior were also different, as was the hours we could spend out at night. The reason for this was that my parents were afraid that I would become pregnant during the evenings if I stayed out late. It took them a few years before they realized that one can conceive in the daytime too.
The intentions behind these requirements was of course good, but why should one be treated differently just because one has a different gender?
When I grew up and got my own family, I had already made some choices. I shouldn't be treating the siblings differently. There will certainly always be a slight difference of treatment based on demeanor, maturity, i.e., but in general, equal treatment. And I feel I've managed to keep it that way.
My kids also get to hear every day that I love them. They are heard in discussions, although we as adults have the last word, they are seen as equal human beings to us.
Of course I'm not perfect, I've had to swallow a camel or two when it stormed around us, but I have three kids who know that they can come to me with any problems they might have, without being heavily punished in any kind of way.
About a year ago, I made my breakup with my parents and siblings. Enough was enough. When they started telling me that my experience and my husbands experience of situations were wrong and that we had no right to have the feelings we felt, because the only rights ones were theirs, it was time to cut the core.
The feeling of being ostracized, as both me and my husband have felt from my family, is not fun to feel, even if you're an adult.
And I'm not saying our interpretations of the situations were the right ones, I'm just saying that every person has the right to their opinion. We all react with emotions, but we must not use emotions as our only measure or guideline. We must base our response on facts as well.
Such breakups, initiated by the children, isn't spoken so highly of. And it's kind of a taboo area. But there's no reason it should be like that.
As of that I decide to tell some of my story in public.