91k 4.6k 26

This weekend some of us celebrate Father’s Day in some parts of the world including Canada and the United States. Father’s day can be a really tough time of year emotionally for many of us who have been raised in dysfunctional families or where we have been taught that love is proven (by children) through obedience, compliance and service. It helped me to realize that if obedience, compliance and service is love, why isn’t it returned in the same way to the children in dysfunctional families. Why are the rules different for some people? Why aren’t we loved in the same way that we are taught to love? When the rules are different for some people, it isn’t really love; it is a false definition of love that causes confusion. Emerging from Broken is about breaking free from all that confusion by enabling clarity.

Typically, there is more resistance when looking at issues we have with our fathers, and it is okay if that is what you are feeling when you read this. This is painful stuff! It took me a lot longer to acknowledge the pain that my father caused me with his passive abusive actions and inactions than it took me to see the pain that my mother caused me with her more overt treatment. And father’s day was hard the first few years after I drew my boundary because I missed the idea of a loving father; I missed the hope that he might ‘see me’ one day. Letting go of the fantasy was like a death and there is grieving and sadness in the emotional healing process when the father has been emotionally absent.

In this post Carrie H. shares her process of coming to see her father through new eyes and the pain of the betrayal when she realizes that he isn’t actually on the side of the truth about love when it comes to her. Please help me welcome Carrie as she shares her heart and the core of her pain with us.

Happy father’s day to all who celebrate, and remember to celebrate, appreciate and acknowledge yourself.

For some of us, we are or have become our own best fathers.

Darlene Ouimet

When Dad Enables Mom in Emotionally Abusive Family Relationships ~

Enabling Father by Carrie H.

“Say something, I’m giving up on you

I’ll be the one, if you want me to

Anywhere I would’ve followed you

Say something, I’m giving up on you

And I am feeling so small It was over my head I know nothing at all And I will stumble and fall I’m still learning to love Just starting to crawl

Say something, I’m giving up on you

I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you

Anywhere I would’ve followed you

Say something, I’m giving up on you

And I will swallow my pride You’re the one that I love And I’m saying goodbye”

– lyrics from the song “Say Something” by A Great Big World

I saw my dad for the first time as I sat across the booth from him at an Italian restaurant post therapy session. I saw him for the coward he is. I saw him as a man who is terrified of feeling. How could I expect my feelings to be validated by this man when he isn’t even willing to validate his own? I saw a man who walks hunched over and crooked because he holds so much pain inside. I saw a man who uses humor to avoid looking at truth. I saw a man who hides behind blanket spiritual statements like “it’s all just an illusion” and “we are all love” to avoid confronting any darkness in himself or others. A man who wants to skip to the end of the spiritual journey and claim the truths of those who have walked through fire rather than feeling the flames himself.

I saw my dad and I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry for him. I wanted to help him, to save him somehow. I wanted him to step up to the plate for me, for my mom, for my sister, for his grandson, for himself. I wanted him to embrace truth but he won’t cross the briars and thorns it would take to get there and experience the kind of spiritual bliss he devours books about. He sat next to me in the therapy session, a session that was supposed to be about our relationship but, as usual, it was about my mom. He had a notepad and I glanced over and saw, written in his own handwriting these words: “what has [my wife] done to deserve this?” And there it is, in a nutshell. He’s never been on my team. He claims to not take sides but his jersey has always sported my mother’s name. “Be the bigger person,” he loves to say to me. But what does the bigger person do when someone is constantly trying to hurt her? She doesn’t say, “Here let me step closer so you can throw another punch.” No. She walks away. That is the bigger person. I once told my dad that my mom was incapable of love to which he agreed. “Well she doesn’t love herself so she can’t love anyone else.” So at dinner that night I asked him a point blank honest question. “Why are you with someone who doesn’t love you?” “Well, She loves me!” he barked angrily.

Yes, I suppose she does love him just like he would claim to love me. He looked me in the eyes and told me that he would never abandon me. That he wouldn’t be one of the enabling fathers that got pulled down the chasm with his wife when she was no longer part of my life. And yet, I haven’t heard from him again. The final betrayal. He pretended to play for my team and even gave me hope that he would. But there he is, getting ready to go up to bat for my mom. It’s her side he is on. Always. Her side ~ as he sat silently when she told me I would never get married. Her side ~ when he listened to her tell me I wasn’t socially ok. Her side when I plugged my ears to keep her words for getting in. He sat silently while she shattered my soul into a million pieces. Why should I expect anything different now? “It’s all just an illusion,” he loves to say. Yes, dad, it is. Our family as perfect, that’s an illusion. That there was no abuse, that’s an illusion. That you love me in the true definition of love, that’s an illusion.

…. and that you would ever take my side against her’s; that’s most definitely an illusion.

Carrie H.

Please add your thoughts and comments. We look forward to hearing from you!

Hugs, Darlene

Although this website has a facebook page, your comments will not be posted on facebook and you are welcome to use any name you wish here for the sake of privacy.

– The song “Say Something” by A Great Big World and link to the YouTube video

Related post: Passive Abuse and Emotionally Unavailable Father