Hereditary Scars…
8th August 2025
Hello my most beautiful and precious starshine,
I started writing this a couple of months ago, but then the anaemia got in the way along with everything else, so it had to be put on hold. It’s time to continue.
It is the first time I’m really thinking about how it might’ve been for my dad. From what I heard, his rage was there from a young age, but no one is born a monster. Behaviours are learnt, as well as being the consequences of our experiences, especially during our childhood.
My dad and the rest of the family wouldn’t be immune to the attachment theory and everything else that ultimately shapes us. The human need for love, acceptance and connection would also be there for all of them.
When I think back, there wasn’t any real warmth there. No open signs of love and affection. No hugs. No words of support, nurturing or encouragement. The only signs of love and affection was between my youngest aunt and my grandparents. She was their favourite.
The environment seemed to breed narcissistic behaviours in the ones who externalised it. There were so many lies and so much gaslighting. So much envy. It’s like they didn’t have any peace unless they were making someone else miserable. They could be very cruel, nasty and malicious. They weren’t happy.
Two aunts and an uncle seemed to have internalised it, so they were different to the rest. I internalised it as well.
It was a very large family, so getting my grandparents attention and any affection would have been very difficult. They were all scared of my dad. They had to gang up on him during arguments, and violence always erupted. It was never anywhere near as bad as what my dad inflicted on my mum though. She was his punching bag. He was careful where he hit me, so he did have some level of control. I knew what he was capable of and it terrified me.
The arguments were usually about money and my dad not paying his fair share. They couldn’t talk to resolve grievances. It came out in anger, cruelty and nastiness. After the blow up, there was avoidance, silence and frowning. This was punishment. Being my dad’s daughter, I was on the receiving end of it as well. I was also on the receiving end from my dad when he erupted with me. I was walking on egg shells most of the time. So many minefields.
If only they could talk properly and communicate their grievances and needs, but they were never taught. The only way they could express it was with anger and confrontation. I can now see that my dad learnt this from my grandparents, and it’s very likely my grandparents learnt it from their parents.
They also couldn’t take any responsibility for their actions. It was always someone else’s fault. I was always blamed for my dad being violent and abusive with me. He, and they, made me feel responsible for everything, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong. They were all just looking for an excuse. They couldn’t look at themselves. My therapist pointed out that narcissistic people are usually very insecure. She’s right. I can see it with all of them, but it doesn’t make it right.
It was the family against my dad. The fact that my dad didn’t sit in the living room with everyone else spoke volumes. Our bedroom was like his cage. It was clear they didn’t like him, but there wasn’t any real unity amongst the others either. In some ways it felt like they were just coexisting, and they all had their roles. No one could really trust anyone. No one could in such an environment.
I can now see that my dad was, and still is, a child emotionally. He hasn’t grown up. I’d say it was the same for the others as well. He was made to feel unwanted, broken and unlovable, even as an adult. He would’ve been desperate for their love and acceptance. He would’ve been riddled with insecurities as well. He’s human.
Seeing the whole picture has helped give me a glimpse as to why he could be the way he is. I’m starting to understand him better. Seeing him in this light also makes me feel sorry for him, but he’s an adult. It’s his responsibility to help himself, and take responsibility for his behaviour, emotions and actions.
Forgiveness also came to mind. For all the time I’ve been in therapy, I didn’t think there was any need to forgive my dad. I felt I needed to forgive myself for being so hard and brutal to myself. I still need to do this. For all these decades I thought it was my fault. I thought I was the problem, but my dad is just as damaged as I am. I would say his behaviours are learnt and they’re also a trauma response. With the environment he grew up in, it’s not surprising.
I have a way to go until I reach the point of forgiveness, but I feel it’s inevitable for my own sake. This has nothing to do with my dad, so I won’t be letting him know. I also feel if I was to let him know, then it’ll just make him worse. He knows he’s gotten away with so much, he’s never taken any responsibility for any of it, and he’s never shown any genuine remorse. He’s not going to change. Nothing good would come out of him knowing, but I feel it will give me peace of mind and it’ll help me let go.