Don't Make Me Fight For Your Acceptance

Image credit: Rocco Stoppoloni - Unsplash

I don’t know many estranged people who woke up and frolicked in a meadow when they chose themselves over their family members. But that is how people view it at times. They claim we glorify and push the narrative that everyone should be estranged. The adult-children become the bad guys. When people find out I am estranged from family members, it's as if I am suddenly in a boxing match with them, and I don't remember agreeing to the fight. 

“But he is your father!” - why does that matter? He abused me. Stop with the clichés.

“You should forgive him; you only have one dad.” I am fully aware of this, thank you. My mother died when I was a child, and he was the one who raised me. 

"How could you cut off your grandmother like that?" She stole over $100,000 from me when my mother was killed. She is a known con artist. 

“He couldn’t have been that bad.” One time, I didn’t get my shoes on quickly enough to help unload the car, and he dragged me out of the house by my hair. Does that sound like a good or safe parent to be with?

"What happens when she dies, will you regret it?" regarding my stepmother.  She did die. It hurt so bad. I curled up in a little ball while my wife helped me remember how to breathe through the wailing. 

“Don’t you love them?” I never stopped. Estrangement doesn’t mean I don’t love my family members. Love should be unconditional; they never gave me unconditional love.

I have yet to hear people tell domestic violence survivors to go back to their abusers with open arms of acceptance. In fact, when someone dies from or is stuck in a domestic violence relationship, people question them in a different way. Sadly, I know from personal experience and again had to go round for round with the boxing gloves again. 

Why didn’t you leave sooner? I left when I realized how bad it was. 

How did you not catch on to the red flags? Not every abuser starts off hitting you; they groom you. 

How did your friends and family not help? I wasn’t always in the headspace for accepting help, and I covered it up for a while. 

You could have asked for help. Eventually, I did. Even the people around me who saw it turned their heads.

Yet, when you grow up in it – you think it's normal. You don’t question the highs that are adorned with gold necklaces covered in hearts that convey love, or the lows of a wine bottle smashing near your face when they are not getting their way. You also don’t talk to the victim and tell them to forgive their abuser, give them a second chance after your ribs were broken, but that seems to be what people tell me to do when they find out I am estranged from family members, as if I don’t feel guilty enough. 

I am not saying all family members are physically abusive; some are just mentally toxic. They refuse to believe the situation you are in and call you dramatic and support your physical abuser (at least this happened for me). Some family members could be narcissistic and only out for themselves. You could be gay, trans, queer, differ on values, and so much more. Estrangement is truly a vast spectrum. There is no wrong or right way to be estranged, but when someone says, I am estranged, suddenly everyone has an opinion. 

I don’t want to hear it anymore. I am too tired to fight. I need peace in my life. I don’t owe you my pain, my history, my trauma. I don’t owe you a reason. What is owed to me is acceptance. It took a long time for me to realize that while I may be hopeful and optimistic for change and the love I truly wanted from them… some people are just not capable of it. Sometimes, it’s not their fault; they are a byproduct of their conditioning and their anguish. That still doesn’t excuse the abuse. 

People can change too. They can get better; they can heal, but forgiveness shouldn’t be on the victim. I am haunted by my family members and my choice every time I hear a song, see a movie of a family, or miss out on holidays. It’s excruciating. I cannot look through a photo album without feeling my heartbeat rise. I know what is behind the fake smiles, the forced family photos, and the hidden snapshots of the truth. 

Estrangement is uncomfortable — for me, for you, for the world. I get it, but don’t expect me to be like you. Don’t make me fight for your acceptance. Don’t try to make me question my choice, my sanity, over your discomfort. Trust that I know what I am doing. Trust that I have cried, screamed, argued, and finally accepted the path that was needed for me. Because there are no matches; there are no sides to take bets on who will win. There are only people trying to heal and break the cycles of abuse.