Understanding Abusive Parenting

Many coaching clients express complex feelings about their parents. They often ponder, “How should I perceive my mother? I don’t want to label her as bad, yet how can a loving person treat their children the way she treated me and my siblings?”

These elements of their parents’ personalities don’t create a coherent picture of a typical human being. Still, I have a sense of who these mothers are.

So, who are these clients, and what are we discussing? If I were a licensed mental health professional, I would refer to my work as counseling. However, I identify it as personal coaching or consulting since I lack formal qualifications. Having been raised by a mother diagnosed with Borderline and Narcissistic Personality Disorders—who also struggled with alcoholism—I provide peer support and insights based on shared experiences.

Accepting Reality

Returning to the initial question—no, a decent person would not mistreat their children the way my clients experienced. That’s often a hard truth for many to accept. Acknowledging the harsh reality of abusive parenting is essential in overcoming the psychological scars left on children, who often grow into emotionally wounded adults.

For those raised in such environments, coming to terms with this reality is both necessary and, at times, insufficient. They often grapple with memories of happier moments or the fleeting kindness received from typically toxic parents. I’ll return to this later, sharing stories about my own mother and how I navigated these memories in my life.

How did my clients’ parents treat them? Some grew up with parents who resorted to threats of self-harm to gain sympathy. Others faced life-threatening aggression from their fathers. There are also cases of mothers leading their children into dangerous situations.

While not everyone faces such extreme scenarios, a common thread among my clients is the experience of betrayal from parental figures. Many were not just neglected but genuinely mistreated. They don’t reflect on the small losses—like missing out on a childhood treat—but rather the larger emotional and psychological toll of being raised in capricious, often cruel environments. Decades later, these adults struggle with feelings of worthlessness and attribute their pain to their mother’s inability to love them properly.

Moral Issues

As noted in previous discussions, we live in a time marked by individuals demonstrating Cluster B Personality Disorders. It’s important to reframe these behaviors as moral rather than purely psychological issues. According to psychologist George K. Simon, the most narcissistic and cruel individuals aren’t necessarily suffering from medical issues. Their struggles are rooted in moral and ethical failings, representing a distortion of character rather than a brain dysfunction.

My objective is to foster conversations that help my clients grasp and face the reality of their parents’ insanity. For those hailing from stable, nurturing homes, it can be jarring to hear about the dysfunction I experienced. There’s a societal taboo around recognizing that some mothers—far more so than fathers—are as capable of harm as they are of love.

This kind of taboo can be suffocating. Reality often conflicts with our desires.

Emotional Balance Sheet

Adults who grew up in toxic environments frequently struggle to acknowledge their parents’ flaws. Many of my clients hesitate to label their experiences as abuse, even after recounting harrowing tales of mistreatment. Those who experienced real abuse can spend years denying the truth while working to repair the images of their profoundly damaging parents. It’s often only when they hit rock bottom—through alcoholism, depression, or failed relationships—that they’re willing to confront reality.

When someone finally accepts that their parent wasn’t “good” or didn’t truly love them, it marks significant progress. This recognition is the first step toward healing. Yet, for many, it doesn’t suffice. What do we do with the good memories? How do we reconcile those fleeting moments of teaching or support with the larger context of emotional neglect?

I’ll admit that, generally, no one is purely good or bad. But when discussing these parents, the numbers skew heavily. We’re dealing with about 95% negatives and only 5% positives. The math here is simple: a 5% success rate doesn’t absolve someone of their failings as a parent.

Glimpses of Goodness

What about the times when there was some goodness? This is something I’ve mused over for years, often in discussions with my traditional therapist. I think back to the late ’80s, when my mother and I watched TV, discussing women’s roles and the challenge of balancing career and family.

At that moment, there were hints of genuine humanity in her dialogue. My mother, who suffered from severe personality disorders, showed flashes of insight—if only her better qualities hadn’t been overshadowed by her mental health struggles.

The Mother She Could Have Been

That TV conversation stands out because it represents the woman I wished she could have been. We were watching a segment that generated a lively discussion, and the usual conflicting feminist viewpoints were aired. My mother, reflecting, once said, “It’s almost impossible to understand the profound urge women have for motherhood. We might want to deny it, but it’s overwhelming. I’ve always wanted to be a mother.”

Living with Contradictions

That assertion, though true, was often eclipsed by her contradictory nature. Individuals with borderline personality issues frequently wrestle with extreme inner conflicts, often refusing to acknowledge them. Instead, they opt for denial, resulting in mood swings that can be exhausting. One day, she might appreciate motherhood, while on another, she’d vent about how women are trapped by societal expectations.

Yes, it’s contradictory, yet it’s understandable. If she had managed to reconcile those conflicting feelings, perhaps she could have navigated her own issues with motherhood more gracefully. Her observations sometimes framed a reality that even she couldn’t escape—a truth that transcended her chaotic life.

Unanswered Questions

These reflections on our interactions, including the moments of raw honesty, linger in my memory. They symbolize who she could have been, showcasing her intelligence when unfiltered. Though I realize that the idealized version of my mother was never fully reachable, I still hold fragments of understanding about her persona.

This sentiment resonates with many of my clients, too. A son might recall a father who, although selfish, occasionally offered useful advice. A daughter might cherish memories of her mother expressing pride at a graduation, even when shadows of addiction loomed large. Who are these parents, really? It’s a question that may linger without resolution. Yet, such uncertainties form part of the complex emotional landscape we navigate.