Challenges of a Split White/Golden Child

[Our abuse recovery guide]

Hi all.  I've noticed something when reading at the various boards on this site and when reading other articles involving BPD parents.  Specifically, there seems to be a belief by some that the child who is split white or the designated golden child is not being abused and are safe from the effects of undiagnosed BPD parents emotional instability.  I figured out that this issue has been prominent in my mind precisely because I seem to have a bit of this belief in my own mind as well, or at least I have given far more priority to dealing with the overt abuses I experienced and I now want to take a more in depth look at what being split white means.  While I was mostly split black as kid, I did have times when I was split white, mostly when I was a very young kid and then occasionally much later on when I was in my 20's and early 30's.  My mother would alternate splitting my brother and I though so I do not have the full experience of being the all white child. 

I am hoping we can talk about some of the long term effects on us.  I don't think one (black vs. white) is necessarily worse than the other but I will say that I believe being split white is a far more insidious and covert form of abuse and as such it is much harder to identify the affects (I also have to say that I can never remember when to use affect and effect, so if you are into that kind of thing I apologize in advance.  Generally I go for the 50/50 split in choosing which one to use as I figure I will be correct at least some of the time!  Bear/bare/beer with me please! )

I think for me one of the biggest effects is the pressure to perform and please.  I can remember feeling so pressured as a kid and it has definitely carried over into adulthood.  Knowing that my behavior and my achievements would be used by her to set her own moods and her own self worth amplified any desire to please or be good.  Any failure of mine would be not only my failure, but hers as well.  Even worse in some ways was knowing that anything I did right or well was also used by her to define herself.  Nothing was mine, not even my behaviors or thoughts.  A lot of time I felt paralyzed and it would take ages to decide on what to do or say.  One wrong move or word and the world would explode.  The pressure was only compounded as I knew all too well that being split white could change in an instant and I could then experience the coldness, the withdrawal of approval and love, of touch and affection.  I not only experienced what being split black was like but I also got to witness it when I saw how she would treat and talk to my father or my brother when he was the split black child.  When I think of this, I get an image in my head of being in short chains so that there is no movement in either direction... .just slightly turning in place with no real direction.

Another aspect is having little idea of my own self, of who I was and what I liked or believed in.  There was  a sense of 'we' rather than I or me and not in a healthy or sharing sort of way.  Again, nothing was mine.  I was an extension of my mother and what she wanted had to be to the point of her bleaching my hair blond when I was as young as 5 because she wanted a blond haired child so when my hair started to darken from blond to brown, she bleached my hair.  She had a bump on her nose (I found out later she had a nose job when she was 18 to get rid of it) but of course never told me... .but she used to have me press on the bridge of my nose for 15 minutes at a time a couple times a day to keep from getting a lump on my nose.  I never knew why until I pieced it together after my grandmother told me she had had the nose job.  I can remember trips to NY city and not being able to take the elevator to the top of the WTC.  She would say it was because my ears hurt, but they did not... .she was afraid of heights.

The belief that I was responsible for the moods and actions of other people and that somehow I could fix things for others.  This is another boundary issue---> not knowing where I ended in relation to other people.  Not sure of the right term, but I call them my internal boundaries.  It meant not letting other people be responsible for their own stuff.  Of feeling guilt for another person actions as if I could control them.  The need to rescue or caretake others was in actuality an effort to control them rather than from a healthy sense of compassion or love.  Love does not seek to fix or change and it is not compassion that drove me to 'help' others... .for me it stemmed from not knowing where I ended in relation to others and said far more about my need to control and my own arrogance.

I am sure there are others that I can't think of right now or even some that I am still unaware of but I think this will do for now.

Can anyone else add any or shed some light on this?  How has being split white affected you?

[Harri]

Hi all.  I've noticed something when reading at the various boards on this site and when reading other articles involving BPD parents.  Specifically, there seems to be a belief by some that the child who is split white or the designated golden child is not being abused and are safe from the effects of undiagnosed BPD parents emotional instability.  I figured out that this issue has been prominent in my mind precisely because I seem to have a bit of this belief in my own mind as well, or at least I have given far more priority to dealing with the overt abuses I experienced and I now want to take a more in depth look at what being split white means.  While I was mostly split black as kid, I did have times when I was split white, mostly when I was a very young kid and then occasionally much later on when I was in my 20's and early 30's.  My mother would alternate splitting my brother and I though so I do not have the full experience of being the all white child. 

I am hoping we can talk about some of the long term effects on us.  I don't think one (black vs. white) is necessarily worse than the other but I will say that I believe being split white is a far more insidious and covert form of abuse and as such it is much harder to identify the affects (I also have to say that I can never remember when to use affect and effect, so if you are into that kind of thing I apologize in advance.  Generally I go for the 50/50 split in choosing which one to use as I figure I will be correct at least some of the time!  Bear/bare/beer with me please! )

I think for me one of the biggest effects is the pressure to perform and please.  I can remember feeling so pressured as a kid and it has definitely carried over into adulthood.  Knowing that my behavior and my achievements would be used by her to set her own moods and her own self worth amplified any desire to please or be good.  Any failure of mine would be not only my failure, but hers as well.  Even worse in some ways was knowing that anything I did right or well was also used by her to define herself.  Nothing was mine, not even my behaviors or thoughts.  A lot of time I felt paralyzed and it would take ages to decide on what to do or say.  One wrong move or word and the world would explode.  The pressure was only compounded as I knew all too well that being split white could change in an instant and I could then experience the coldness, the withdrawal of approval and love, of touch and affection.  I not only experienced what being split black was like but I also got to witness it when I saw how she would treat and talk to my father or my brother when he was the split black child.  When I think of this, I get an image in my head of being in short chains so that there is no movement in either direction... .just slightly turning in place with no real direction.

Another aspect is having little idea of my own self, of who I was and what I liked or believed in.  There was  a sense of 'we' rather than I or me and not in a healthy or sharing sort of way.  Again, nothing was mine.  I was an extension of my mother and what she wanted had to be to the point of her bleaching my hair blond when I was as young as 5 because she wanted a blond haired child so when my hair started to darken from blond to brown, she bleached my hair.  She had a bump on her nose (I found out later she had a nose job when she was 18 to get rid of it) but of course never told me... .but she used to have me press on the bridge of my nose for 15 minutes at a time a couple times a day to keep from getting a lump on my nose.  I never knew why until I pieced it together after my grandmother told me she had had the nose job.  I can remember trips to NY city and not being able to take the elevator to the top of the WTC.  She would say it was because my ears hurt, but they did not... .she was afraid of heights.

The belief that I was responsible for the moods and actions of other people and that somehow I could fix things for others.  This is another boundary issue---> not knowing where I ended in relation to other people.  Not sure of the right term, but I call them my internal boundaries.  It meant not letting other people be responsible for their own stuff.  Of feeling guilt for another person actions as if I could control them.  The need to rescue or caretake others was in actuality an effort to control them rather than from a healthy sense of compassion or love.  Love does not seek to fix or change and it is not compassion that drove me to 'help' others... .for me it stemmed from not knowing where I ended in relation to others and said far more about my need to control and my own arrogance.

I am sure there are others that I can't think of right now or even some that I am still unaware of but I think this will do for now.

Can anyone else add any or shed some light on this?  How has being split white affected you?

[Kwamina]

This is a very interesting thread Harri! Splitting is one of my uBPD mother's behaviors that I found the most difficult to deal with. Her going from one extreme to the total opposite extreme within a very short period of time, was actually what really made clear to me that there was something seriously wrong with her. Well that and several other things but let's focus on the splitting now

I am way younger than my siblings and after they moved out my mother started splitting me which I found very confusing as a child. My mother has always treated my oldest sister as the all-good child and my other sister was supposedly the all-bad child. However, after they both moved out, my mother clearly still needed to 'split' in order to regulate her emotions and that's when she started splitting me. This often left me feeling like   and   and :'(

Specifically, there seems to be a belief by some that the child who is split white or the designated golden child is not being abused and are safe from the effects of undiagnosed BPD parents emotional instability.  I figured out that this issue has been prominent in my mind precisely because I seem to have a bit of this belief in my own mind as well, or at least I have given far more priority to dealing with the overt abuses I experienced and I now want to take a more in depth look at what being split white means.

... .

Can anyone else add any or shed some light on this?  How has being split white affected you?

I am also aware of the notion held by some that the all-good child is somehow safe from the effects of the BPD parent. I personally strongly believe that being treated as all-good and/or being spoiled rotten in fact constitutes serious forms of abuse too. Children that are raised like that are raised in a fantasy world with fantasy rules. This can cause them real problems when they enter the 'real' world because they then get confronted with a society that doesn't match their fantasy world and works completely differently.

My oldest sister is uBPD too and her being treated as the perpetual golden child by my mother and never being required to take any responsibility for her misbehavior, hasn't served her well in the long run. She has struggled in every single job she has had due to her behavioral problems. You could describe her as a condescending 'Queen' with sadistic tendencies and explosive rages when faced with people she thinks she can control. However, when faced with people in power or authority figures, she turns into a 'Waif' and it becomes evident just how insecure she is and that her lashing out is also a way she tries to mask her insecurity and feelings of shame. Basically projecting the negativity she feels about herself onto someone else. She lacks certain essential skills that would allow her to behave better and I believe that is definitely related to her being treated as the all-good child by our mother. Being raised like that she was never required to develop certain skills while at the same was being encouraged to develop certain behavior patterns that really aren't suited for life in the 'real' world.

[Turkish]

I remember my uBPDx telling me once that her sister once bemoaned, "Ex is the good child!"

During my Ex's dissociation and break-up, I noticed that at 31 years of age, she started rebellng disrespectfully from her mother. After we split, and my Ex called me for addvice because she lost control with our then 4 year old, I suggested Parentification. That happened, but it was more emotional incest due to an absent, and when present, cheating and violent father. I gently suggested that our children were not responsible for her feelings, and she replied. "I know. I don't want to do to them what my mother did to me.".

My Ex has distanced herself a bit as I can tell, but her s is (2000 miles away) still idralizes and feeds into her mom's Hermit instincts. Blood is thicker than water, and despite little sis once being kind of the black child, I don't say anything, like, "you may be jealous, but you have no idea how damaged your sister is underneath a thin veneer of being all that."

Their older brother is the most messed up. The whole family (except Dad) knows it.

I'm the only child of a single mother who never had boyfriends, so I was both the good child and the bad, and I can only really relate to this sibling dynamic by proxy.

[vortex of confusion]

This is a very interesting thread. I don't like to admit it, but I am probably the golden child of my family. That doesn't mean that I was never split black though. I have had a few periods of being split black. My periods of being split black were way shorter than any of my siblings. My oldest sister is the one that was permanently split black by mother. To this day, my mother can't find a good word to say about my oldest sister. My middle sister was permanently painted white by my mother. I couldn't say anything bad about my sister or my mother would say, "You should be thankful for your sister. She almost died when she was born." I was without a doubt dad's favorite and I knew how to stay under the radar. I was a buttkissing people pleaser.

It is weird because I feel guilty about a lot of stuff from childhood. I was never spanked and was often referred to as spoiled. If I wanted candy at 2 AM, dad would get up and go get it for me. It is almost like I had a completely different set of parents than my older siblings. I was an afterthought that is about 4.5 years younger than the sister that is closest in age.

I think one of the biggest problems that I have had is the resentment that my siblings have felt towards me. When I was a kid, the oldest two protected me. My middle sister hated me and we had a lot of conflicts. I was dad's favorite and she was mom's favorite.

And, the other problem that I have is that I don't feel like I get to feel fully human at times. I am not perfect yet I feel like I can't screw up. If I mess up, it is like the whole world is going to collapse. I dated and was engaged to a guy in college that my parents hated. They kicked me out of the house and forced me to go to counseling. I never understood it because the guy worked and was a decent guy. My sisters, on the other hand, had been dating and had kids with guys that I thought were ten times worse than the guy I was dating. Heck, my middle sister got pregnant at 15 by a guy that was about 10 years older than her. It was very confusing for me because I had to live by such stringent standards. I snuck out of the house ONE time in high school. I caught hell for it. My sisters on the other hand would go out and be gone all weekend and it seemed like no big deal.

I can really relate to what somebody said above about having a mom that seemed to own all of their successes. I used to hate that. I worked my butt off in high school and got a full tuition scholarship. My boyfriend bought my books for the first couple of semesters and after that I got a job and a credit card and bought them myself. My mother used to love to tell people how she was putting me through college and acted like it was some kind of great big achievement on her part. Because I was the golden child, the expectations that were placed on me were sometimes more than I could handle. It has caused me a lot of stress as an adult because I am married to a guy that is a lot like my mother. I tend to be a caretaker and rescuer and don't allow myself to be vulnerable or weak. I am strong and I am supposed to be able to deal with everything with grace and poise. I am supposed to be able to figure everything out all of the time. If I don't, then I become disappointed in myself and have a lot of self hatred because I am not living up to my potential. It reminds me of being in calculus in high school and getting a B and being told that I wasn't applying myself hard enough and I wasn't living up to my potential.

(I am normally on the staying boards but this thread caught my attention as I am just now realizing how much my role as the protected/split white baby of the family has handicapped me.)

[polly87]

Hi there,

Thanks for this interesting thread Harri!

I am an only child. Now that I am considering splitting, I realise that I was often split white while my mother had relationships with boyfriends. She wanted me to take her side against them. This was worse when they loved her more. When she was single, she would alternately split me white or black.

When I was very little (about two till four years old, and before the sexual abuse started), I was mostly painted white. Somewhat like Harri’s story, I was pushed into achieving more than a little kid should. I was taught to read when I was two. I owed my accomplishments to her good care, so I was told. In other words, she gave up things for me even though I had not asked for this nor wanted this. She maintained this view of giving up her own self for me throughout the years and it was one of her favourite accusations when I was “ungrateful” again (meaning trying to live my own life). So in this way she could go from splitting me white (I was doing well at school) to splitting me black (I was ungrateful for her helping me do well at school). I was a vessel for her varying emotions around self-worth, which she apparently could not express in another way.

As soon as I was able to hold a more or less adult conversation with my mother (I was in primary school then), she used me as a partner and best friend to talk about her troubled relationships and so on. I was rewarded for this role by being split white. During my teenage years she often accused me of “not being her best friend anymore”, despite the fact that I accompanied her on her nights out, so then I was being painted black again for unknown reasons.

Harri, it saddens me to read that your mother dyed your hair when you were that young  :'( . I remember my mother shaving my legs in the garage (she was disgusted by the little hairs) when she found that I was old enough to have them shaved. My mother used to say quite often that she “chose” my father, who is half Asian, to “make a beautiful dark child”. I wonder now if she would want to choose her child’s appearance because she would be more sexually attracted to a dark child (the same way that healthy adults say: I usually fall for blondes or brunettes... .).

I can really relate to your feeling that you were an extension of your mother. I felt the same way. I was supposed to look and act a certain way to please her. When I was in my early twenties, I just could not do this anymore and I got severely depressed (not the first time). I remember writing in my diary that I could not play the act anymore... .I did not understand why I was required to act happy when I felt sad. My mother used to buy expensive clothes for me and she used to cut my hair. When I wanted to grow my hair, she told me it smelled bad when it got longer and it needed cutting. About two years ago, I went to the hairdresser for the first time and I felt in charge of my own body.

The belief that I was responsible for the moods and actions of other people and that somehow I could fix things for others.  This is another boundary issue---> not knowing where I ended in relation to other people.  Not sure of the right term, but I call them my internal boundaries.  It meant not letting other people be responsible for their own stuff.  Of feeling guilt for another person actions as if I could control them.  The need to rescue or caretake others was in actuality an effort to control them rather than from a healthy sense of compassion or love.  Love does not seek to fix or change and it is not compassion that drove me to 'help' others... .for me it stemmed from not knowing where I ended in relation to others and said far more about my need to control and my own arrogance.

Yes. This. ... .This. I feel the same way Harri. I also feel responsible for the physical and emotional states of others, especially my partner. As a kid I learned that I was responsible for the emotions of my mother – my actions or emotions would set off her anger. Later on she also tried to teach me that I was responsible for her physical state by not eating while I was staying with my partner. I refused to learn this lesson, but the other one had stuck in my mind already, alas.

When life is giving my partner lemons, I feel responsible for the fact that I have not made lemonade yet. I feel like I should protect him and take care of him – and yes, this is in order to make *myself* feel like I am in control. It is more an issue of powerlessness versus empowerment than anything else.

Besides all this, I wonder if splitting a kid white and/or spoiling them makes a BPD parent feel that it is okay to abuse that kid? I think my mother might have felt she was justified in using me as a relationship therapist because she bought me all this expensive stuff? Maybe it was her way of treating me well – she loved material goods herself and she could not imagine people not liking them. Who knows.

Vortex of confusion, I am sorry you were held to such high standards. Double standards are never fair. Do you think you are playing the part of the critical parent now towards yourself? Can you think of ways of being more gentle with yourself?

Wishing all of you the best.

[Harri]

Sorry for the delay responding.  I've a small case of writer's block on my own threads.   

Kwamina: 

I am also aware of the notion held by some that the all-good child is somehow safe from the effects of the BPD parent. I personally strongly believe that being treated as all-good and/or being spoiled rotten in fact constitutes serious forms of abuse too. Children that are raised like that are raised in a fantasy world with fantasy rules. This can cause them real problems when they enter the 'real' world because they then get confronted with a society that doesn't match their fantasy world and works completely differently.

Agreed.  There were some things I was told as a kid that did not quite pan out when dealing with the real world.  Fortunately, realizing that happened early for me.  Haha, never thought I would find some way to be thankful for the bullying I experienced in school and with the neighborhood kids... .I was a bit of a pain in the a*s as a young kid... .cried easily, wanted things my way, etc so my mother telling me "Harri, you were born special" never stuck quite as much as it might have were things different.  Ugh, I can remember the intense pressure that phrase used to elicit.  Eventually it led to resentment which just added to the anger.

I find the fantasy world you mentioned interesting in another way too.  Reading the above paragraph again today made me realize being the mostly split black kid who was (and still is a bit) ready to fight and defend, to push away and be alone is just as much a fantasy as that of an unchecked golden child.  Expectations/world views based on abuse whether from being split white or black, are fantasies.  Thanks for that Kwamina!  Sorry for straying from the main theme of golden child though.  It is hard to write from that perspective. 

I imagine the change from how your mother was when your siblings were home to then being split all good/all bad was especially bewildering and I am sorry you had that experience.    It is sad to hear how your sister is now as an adult. 

Turkish, how true this is:

"you may be jealous, but you have no idea how damaged your sister is underneath a thin veneer of being all that."

I am glad your ex is reaching out for help with the kids and it sounds like she trusts you.  I see that as a huge plus in terms of co-parenting though i imagine there must be some frustration with it as well (?).

I know you were split black and white, like i was (you too Kwamina!) but can you think of any way that being split white affected you personally?  Did those periods last long enough to get in your head?

Hi Vortex of Confusion.  Welcome to the coping board!  I am glad you chose to respond, though I am sorry it took so long for me to reply.  Your story is heartbreaking.  Being played against your siblings, the pressure to be perfect, and how that has carried over into adulthood.  Polly asked good questions:

Do you think you are playing the part of the critical parent now towards yourself? Can you think of ways of being more gentle with yourself?

  Are you in contact with your sisters?  Would you ever want to explore some of these issues here on this board?  I really appreciate your input here as it is first hand and speaks so well of how harmful it is to be split white as a child.  I am glad you are taking a look at this stuff, as hard as it may be.  Allowing yourself to be vulnerable is an act of courage and strength.

Polly thanks for sharing this part of your story.  Your mother actually shaved your legs when you were a kid?  What the heck?  All I can do is shake my head angrily.  I see you too had to share your accomplishments and were used as a confidant.  I got that too, though my brother got the mother-load of being her counselor when we were older.  (My heart breaks for him.  He as lots of issues with anger and frustration and wants so badly to help but can't seem to follow through on things in his adult life.  He is married and has a kid and I worry so much about them.  He has come a long way but at such a price.  He was split mostly black as a little kid, but later he was painted white.  i still marvel that we are even speaking to each other.)

Do you mean she took you out at night when she socializing?  Who does that?  I can relate when you talk about how your mother wanted you as her best friend.  I can remember my mother telling me I broke her heart because she always wanted a daughter who she could be friends with and share stuff with.  I hated it.  I wanted a mother.  I cringe every time i hear someone say they are best friends with their kids.  All I can do is hope they are doing things differently than our mothers did.

Thanks everyone for joining me here on this.  I really appreciate it and I can feel I have more digging to do in terms of figuring out how those times of being split white are still impacting my life.

[Turkish]

Being split white mattered, and it didn't. I took    with me that no matter how well I did something, it wasn't good enough. "You have I high IQ, you should be getting straight As!" Maybe I don't care if I get straight As. Maybe my grades are my choice and I'm not here so you can brag about how good a mom you are (No, I never said this out loud!).

It's a reason why I don't take compliments well. We did a thread about it on PI about a year ago... .(see here).

I've actually invalidated people who've praised my accomplishments. People say I'm a good father. I think I'm just doing what should be done. Ditto when the hospital staff was telling my mom what a dedicated son I was to drive over 100 miles and take time off to support my mom through two sugeries. It's duty, neither good nor bad.

I think most parents want to see their children do better than they. Where it crosses the line is when parents expect their children to make up for their own failings. I'm not responsible for someone else's choices, certainly not those made before I was born.

I'm trying like hell not to pass down my anxieties and feelings to my own children. I feel nervous when their mom told then S4, "you need to be a leader and show your sister how to do things." From a distant view, I agree somewhat, but he was 4, let him be 4!

[vortex of confusion]

Hi Vortex of Confusion.  Welcome to the coping board!  I am glad you chose to respond, though I am sorry it took so long for me to reply.  Your story is heartbreaking.  Being played against your siblings, the pressure to be perfect, and how that has carried over into adulthood.  Polly asked good questions:

Do you think you are playing the part of the critical parent now towards yourself? Can you think of ways of being more gentle with yourself?

  Are you in contact with your sisters?  Would you ever want to explore some of these issues here on this board?  I really appreciate your input here as it is first hand and speaks so well of how harmful it is to be split white as a child.  I am glad you are taking a look at this stuff, as hard as it may be.  Allowing yourself to be vulnerable is an act of courage and strength.

It is interesting how I reacted when you said that my story is heartbreaking. I never really saw it that way. It never occurred to me that it wasn't normal. To this day, our parents pit us against each other to a certain degree.

As far as me being the critical parent towards myself, I would have to say, "Yes, I am very critical of myself." I think I am more critical of myself than anybody else could ever be at this stage of the game. I can see everything that I do wrong. I second guess myself a lot. And, I ended up marrying somebody that is entirely too much like my mother. My husband has me painted so white it isn't even funny. He has even said that I am his higher power. People look to me to get things done. People trust me. I don't trust myself and am afraid of screwing up. If I don't think I can give something my all, then I simply won't do it. I don't like being criticized but I also don't like being praised. More often than not, I try to figure out how to be invisible. If I am invisible, then I don't have to live up to others expectations, especially not my own.

I have limited contact with one of my sisters and no contact with the other. Part of being split white was the expectation that I not have any boundaries. My oldest sister came to my house after I asked her not to. Then she stood on my porch and ran her mouth. I said something about her needing to leave or me needing to call the cops. She left but a cop showed up at my house a short time later. She called the cops on ME and said that they needed to do a welfare check because I wouldn't let her see my kids and she was concerned for their safety. The cop that came out saw how ridiculous it was but that didn't keep it from traumatizing me and the kids.

The other sister has had all sorts of mental illnesses. I am still not sure what her actual diagnosis is because it seems to change. She will go through periods where she seems pretty normal and other times she will go completely nuts. The last time she had an episode, she would call me 15, 20, 30 times a day and wouldn't stop. She demanded that I take her somewhere and I said no. She left all kinds of messages on my phone. It was nuts. Because I refused to do what she wanted, she threatened to have my kids taken away. Her husband finally got her committed. She has been better since she got out but she doesn't remember any of the stuff that she said or did to me. I keep her at a distance because I never know when she is going to dysregulate and need to be hospitalized again. Given some of the stuff that is going on in her life, it probably won't take too long before it happens again.

I talk to my brother. He spent 7 years in prison and went through cognitive intervention. We have both talked about how we would like to be able to be normal people that have good days and bad days. If you don't kiss mom and dad's butts, you are painted black. I am not sure if I am a really good butt kisser, if the being painted white plays in my favor, or what but I do know that even as adults I am treated very differently than my siblings. I think some of it comes from the fact that my dad has acknowledged that my mother totally screwed up my siblings. My dad isn't a saint and is probably a bit ODD and narcissistic but he did everything he could to protect me from my mother when I was really young. My dad could be pretty critical at times but I was still his favorite and he definitely made me feel safe because he didn't blow smoke up my butt about anything.

[polly87]

Hi again  

Your mother actually shaved your legs when you were a kid?  What the heck?  All I can do is shake my head angrily.

Harri, I had the same thought when I read that your mother dyed your hair! You were just a kid... .why didn't she let you be  :'(

But yes, she shaved my legs when I was about 11 or 12. Ugh.

I am glad you still speak to your brother. Can you talk about his and your issues at all? Or do you avoid the subject? I am wishing you both strength do deal with your youths and with the present.

Yup, my mother took me out to jazz and rock concerts. In fact, as I did not have any friends, and I was not allowed to use her car, she went with me to a number of concerts. I was always embarrassed but could not think of another way of going out. Now that I have a group of friends and my own car, I'm so proud and happy when we're going out, it's like making up for the past. When my dad was married to my mother, she did not allow him to go out, and when he met his now wife (my stepmum) he did just the same, going out with her and his brothers a lot to make up for the times when he could not.

I can remember my mother telling me I broke her heart because she always wanted a daughter who she could be friends with and share stuff with.  I hated it.  I wanted a mother.

My mother told me exactly the same   She said that she was so sad because I was not her best friend anymore (when had I been that then?) and she wanted me to be her best friend again. She always wanted me to join her on her shopping sprees, which I hated because they never included lunch or toilet breaks. Until this day I cannot stand shopping and I order most stuff online.

VOC, I'm sorry that you still have to deal with your parents setting you and your sibilings up against each other. Like you, I tried to be invisible with all my might. It was not until my fourth year at university that I first spoke during a seminar.

You write that your partner is a lot like your mother. Can you think of things that you can learn from your relationship with your partner? How would you like to respond to being painted white? Is her painting you white accurate? Does she know if it is? Is it important to you that she holds an accurate view of you and why?

Wishing all of you the best  

I'm going on holiday tomorrow and I'll have limited internet access there, so I'll be back here in about 10 days

[lm1109]

I definitely find this interesting. My situation is quite confusing, as my brother and only sibling the "all bad child" passed away. Since his death she has rewritten history. She pretends they were extremely close, she talks about him 24/7, she makes things up about who he was(favorite foods, bands, etc) I'm guessing she does this because she doesn't actually know any of that stuff because in reality they had a horrible tumultuous relationship. I was almost five years younger than my brother and while I was definitely her go to "therapist" I don't think I was ever a "golden child." I was mostly just ignored or made fun of for everything. They pretended like I was stupid, rather than young. My brother was all bad and always to blame. She talked about how bad he was, she would even blame him for her and our Dads marital problems( couldn't be that they were just crazy) She would pit us against each other as much as she could and also pitted us against our father as well, which was worse for my brother because when she threw a big enough fit about how "bad" he was they would physically fight each other. It only happened a handful of times but they are some of the most disgusting memories I have of my childhood. My dad fighting my teenaged brother over lies she told while she stood back pretending to be upset and pretending she wanted it to stop. I remember on the day my brother left for the military, he came up to my room a d told me that it was going to get really bad for me once he was gone because all she would have to focus on is me, he told me to leave the house as much as I could to get away. He was right, it did get bad, but it wasn't until after his death that I understood the extent of our dysfunctional childhood. Its odd how he always knew she was nuts and would fight her, whereas I just assumed she was right and I was the problem. I believed all the crazy things she said and if it hadn't been for the fight in my brother and his insisting that she was not ok, I would probably still believe her. The day my therapist told me to read a book on BPD because she believed she had it, I read it and cried, for alot of reasons, but mostly because I couldn't call my brother and tell him... .you were right! I do believe he had a hand in me finding the answer and firmly believe he still looks out for me on the other side!

[Harri]

I've been letting this topic rattle around and round in my head.  My mind keeps coming back to the fact that being split white is so damaging.  VoC, your story *is* heart breaking.  No, I am not saying that from a place of pity.  Trying to be invisible, the fear of not living up to your own or others expectations... .it is all so crippling.  I felt the same when reading your reply Turkish... .actually for all of us.  Not taking risks, or feeling something is risky so we don't even try it, the pressure we put ourselves under, how we minimize things we do and chalk it up to 'duty'... .(yeah, I took some liberties here and made assumptions.  It's where my head went).   Never feeling good about what we do.  Relationships with siblings only half formed or damaged beyond repair.  I try to imagine the way the all black sibling would feel about the split white child. I can remember feeling resentment when my mother was treating me so horribly while my brother was her favorite.  For us, it was a bit different because my mother would split both of us black and white and also because when she was really dysregulated, she would be horrid to everyone, so that resentment was tempered with some compassion.  I would think that compassion would be hard to muster seeing someone be treated so specially all the time.  I would also think it would be near impossible to overcome that and have a good strong relationship with your sibling(s).  That is tragic.

A half baked thought--->  if our actions help define us, how well do we know ourselves when we hold back, try to be invisible, expect perfection?  If we don't know us, how can anyone else come to really know us?  Like I said, it is a half baked thought and I am not sure how it all fits here for me, but I keep coming back to it.

Polly, my brother and I do not really talk about our childhood.  As far as I know he has never been for counseling and I have never mentioned to him I think our mother had BPD.  I have told my brother certain things that happened were not normal and were messed up, but beyond that, I've said nothing to him.  He knows I think our mother was crazy and that though I loved her, I did not like her.  I could see it hurt him if I said anything so I tried my best not to say anything to him about her unless I thought it would help him.  I did tell him that they should not be sharing a bed though.  I am happy to say he never slept with her again after that.  My brother is one of those people who is not one to discuss emotions and things like that.  He does have issues with anger and his wife will make comments to me that have me worried for their marriage but I stay out of it.  He definitely has BPD traits but I have seen him making improvement too. 

lm1109, first, let me say I am sorry for your loss.  It certainly does sound like he was looking out for you and watching over you.  It is horrible that she pitted you against him.  That seems to be a common thread here.  My father basically re-wrote his entire marriage after my mother died and acted and talked like they had a wonderful marriage (with a couple of exceptions), so I think I understand what you are describing with your mother.  I think a lot of people, even non-disordered people, do that.  Death seems to be a magical cure for a lot of things to some people.  I know for me, when my father did it, it was especially hurtful because it was so very different from the reality.  I am sorry she is doing that to you and to the memory of your brother.  When my father did it, it seemed like a way for him to stay in victim mode and to gain sympathy.  Sometimes I would wonder if he did it to hide the truth of his life with her from himself. 

Another thing that has been on my mind a lot since starting this thread is the term "golden child".  I use it and I read it in other peoples posts and I have noticed something interesting though i am not sure if it is just the way I am reading things or if it is true for other people--->  The term golden child seems to have a derogatory tone to it.  When I read it or use it in relation to my experience, there is a snarky tone to it.  There are a lot of negative energy around it.  Being split black seems to be more acceptable and certainly seems to elicit a lot more sympathy.  This thread is definitely making me more aware of the damage of being split white and my compassion is definitely growing for those of us who were split white. 

[Gerda]

Hi, another "Golden Child" here.

Have any of you read Emotional Incest? I read if after seeing it recommended on here, and it really helped me sort out my family dynamic. It has a lot of overlap with things that books specifically about BPD talk about.

With Emotional Incest, the invasive parent latches onto a child, usually the oldest, or the oldest of the opposite gender of the invasive parent (but my mom only had daughters, so she latched onto me, the oldest daughter). Then you end up with the "left out child" and the "left out spouse."

It seems like the golden child can be the victim of emotional incest, and the left out child is split black.

I was my mom's best friend from the time I was 12 or 13, and when my parents divorced, I became like her surrogate spouse, or at least I was treated like her shoulder to cry on and unpaid therapist.

My younger sister, the "difficult" one, seemed to have much more of a childhood. I had to grow up quickly, while she got to goof off and do drugs and have boyfriends and hang out with friends (OK, so it wasn't a healthy childhood, but at least she got to be free and do dumb teenager-type things). And that was because she knew she couldn't live up to mom's expectations of me, so it's like the family sort of gave up on her and let her do whatever she wanted. (In a way, that made her kind of more spoiled than me, because I had high expectations I had to live up to.) I didn't have any friends when I was in middle and high school, and didn't get my first boyfriend until I was 19, and boy was my mom mad! She was really jealous of me spending time with him instead of her.

It kind of backfired on my mom though. I was so mature by the time I was 19 or 20, I ended up managing to get a job, move out, go to college, escape. Now I'm happily married and living 200+ miles away.

Meanwhile my sister is 30 and still lives with mom. She can't hold down a job. She bounced between mom and dad for a while. When she'd fight with one she'd go live with the other, until last year when dad died. So now she's stuck with Mom. She also became the new golden child because Mom hates me for "abandoning" her by growing up and moving out. She's messed up my little sister so badly now that she's like a perpetual child who will never "leave" her. She shows no signs of ever getting a job and moving out now.

I mean, I guess she must eventually. I don't know.  Maybe she'll live with mom until mom dies.   And then what?

I think Emotional Incest was a really good book to describe the effects having that kind of "golden child" relationship with a parent can have on a person. You end up with this weird mix of being really mature in some ways and really immature in other ways. Like I never got to have a normal adolescence and was sheltered from a bunch of that, so I missed some of getting that out of my system, which makes me childish in some ways, but at the same time I had this role reversal where I had to take care of my mom emotionally from an inappropriately young age.

I still think being split black might be worse, but that may just be because now my sister is so much more messed up than I am. But that could just be how things turned out in my family and not always typical. I have gone through some really hard stuff too, including some periods where I was suicidal because of the pressure to be perfect and at the same time feeling like I'm a burden on my mom.

Anyway, being split white AND split black are both damaging, but probably in very different ways so it's hard to compare.

[Leaving]

Hi Harri,

Very interesting.  I share so many of the experiences everyone wrote about.  It seems that we all have experienced a bit of the black and white with a tendency to be pigeon-holed into one of the roles most of the time.

 

Both my brother and I experienced the splitting and still do with our mother. My mother is NPD/BPD.  I have one brother.  My brother was always the golden child except when he would have a tiff with our mother and she would discard him but he always returned to her and as children when she would discard us, he would literally beg her to forgive him.   My mother raised us completely differently though she controlled both of us.   She invested everything in my brother to shape him into being everything she wasn't and everything she could be proud of.  I was treated just the opposite.  My needs were neglected ( including medical care) and most always pigeon-holed in being just like my mother ( the part of her that she was ashamed of or liked less) and I was constantly told to keep secrets about our family problems from my brother.  He grew up completely unaware of the physical violence in our home, the police visits and how I was being treated and what I was dealing with.  As you pointed out, neither role is healthy or better than the other.  In many ways, I'm much better off than my brother because I knew something was wrong and got out when I was 17 but I've also suffered from being alone without guidance and unconditional love. My brother is very successful, financially stable but I'm not.  I was made the parent and even cared for my brother from the time he was a few months old. I'm 3 years older so imagine a 3 or 4 year old lifting a baby out of the crib, bathing and feeding her infant brother with no instruction or guidance.  So, like you, I was thrust into a position of 'authority' which meant that I felt responsible for everyone's welfare and our family circumstances and I felt responsible for fixing everything and everyone's condition. I was always told to make my brother's life easier for him by doing his chores, cooking his meals. I was told that he needed to do well in school.  If I didn't automatically bring dinner home for my brother after working a double waitress shift, she wouldn't speak to me for weeks.  I was my mother's scapegoat as well and when she would behave irresponsibly and cause us financial woes or other problems, she would tell my brother it was my fault.  To this day he believes all sorts of horrible things about me that aren't the least bit true and he has no idea how I took care of him.  One time our G-d parents told him how I was such an amazing child who took such good care of him and he punched his fist through the wall of his kitchen.  I wonder why he did that?  Is he in denial and hates feeling guilty?  Maybe he thinks so little of me that he gets angry when someone compliments me.

I too suffer that lack of 'self' and always felt that  sense of ' we' and my therapist referred to it as an identity crisis but not the clinical type as some associate with multiple personality.  I just don't have confidence in trusting what I know about myself as being worthy of acknowledgment. I'm still learning to distinguish what is authentically me.   Ironically, people think I'm very confident and self assured and very trustworthy and dependable and I am but it's mostly just a matter of wanting to do the right thing, to be ethical, honest, transparent and moral relative to the world around me vs being able to recognize my own talents and apply them to my own life. I always defend what is right and true relative to others but I have a very difficult time doing that for myself.   I didn't have a parent who noticed my strengths and helped me sharpen them or develop them. My grandparents tried but my mother would fight with them and tell them to leave me alone. My grandmother took my brother and I to open savings accounts when we were young.  My mother closed my account in a furious rage and left my brother's alone.  She would also tell me to ignore my gparents advice and just do whatever I wanted to because  ' you're just like me, a free spirit who enjoys doing things your own way."  I grew up believing that and that my grandparents or others were trying to control me and  it really hurt me because it's not true at all.  My entire belief system about myself was shaped by my mother's need to mold me into becoming her.  I always believed that Mother Knew Best and she knew me better than I knew myself.  Unraveling all that emotional and mental conditioning has been difficult.  Wow, I feel myself getting angry after writing this!  I hope that is good sign?

What benefited me greatly throughout my adult life was having prolonged periods of no contact with my mother.  This was very difficult for me in the beginning because I have no father or other family and I didn't know at the time why I was choosing NC but thank goodness I did.  My mother was the only family I had other than my brother and he has been so brainwashed by our mother that I can't even have a relationship with him.  I don't blame my brother but I can't force him to see the truth and I won't play his avoidance game in order to keep everything rosy Kosher for his benefit. I think he's a bit NPD  as well because he expects me to always serve him and his needs without any consideration for my feelings or circumstances. When he filed for divorce a few years ago, our mother called me and asked me to send him money from my savings to pay for HIS divorce! She said, ' I just thought you should do that for your brother during this horrible time".   My brother is a VP of a huge bank with a six figure income and I'm unemployed and very poor. Crazy isn't it?  Yet my knee jerk reaction was to want to help him until I slapped myself in the knee and told my mother she was nuts.  A few weeks ago she tried to butter me up with , ' You're such a deep person and so much stronger than your brother' and I just rolled my eyes knowing well that she was trying to manipulate me.  I'm on to her now and I know her game and frankly, find her to be stupid and unlikeable. Sounds harsh and disrespectful but that's how I feel about her.  What amazes me is how she manages to manipulate and use 'friends' and they stay around for a few years- some stay for many years.  Why can't they see who/what she is?  Then again, all of her friends are codpendent dysfunctional people. Every day she has contact with at least 5 or 6 friends and yet when the neighbor recently shoveled her snow  she called me in one of her hysterical crying fits  saying, ' It was just so wonderful to know that someone cared about me.  I never have that.  I never have anyone in my life who cares about me'.  I was speechless.  Everyone in her life has catered to her needs and serves her every single day.  They bring her food, take out her trash, feed her birds, play with her dogs, bathe her dogs etc... . as if she's an invalid and she's NOT.   It's truly insane!

Anyway, during those years of NC, I was forced into self discovery and developing and nurturing myself in my own way but even so, I'm still lost and struggling in many aspects partly because I married a man who is my mother's twin.  I'm currently working on ending my marriage and starting over. Maybe I should ask my millionaire mother to send me money for my divorce!  And with that mention-she really IS a millionaire even though she refuses to give her children a penny of her inherited wealth that she never worked a day for.

I am slowly moving out of the fog and the truth about my family life is clearly disturbing as well as liberating.

[Kwamina]

A half baked thought--->  if our actions help define us, how well do we know ourselves when we hold back, try to be invisible, expect perfection?  If we don't know us, how can anyone else come to really know us?  Like I said, it is a half baked thought and I am not sure how it all fits here for me, but I keep coming back to it.

A half baked thought perhaps, yet I've been thinking about what you've said here ever since I read your post. It goes to the core of who we are and what defines us. Can we define ourselves? You also ask the question 'If we don't know us, how can anyone else come to really know us?' Let me tell you what I believe to know about you based on all your posts here Harri. You exemplify the spirit of survival and resilience, you've been through a great deal yet here you are today. You have your problems as most of us children of BPD parents do, but you are still fighting and trying to heal yourself. This is also very inspirational to other members posting here (including myself). When you look on the internet for what defines us, things like this show up:

"What defines us is how well we rise after falling"

Through no fault of your own you've gone through certain struggles but you are still standing here today.

Actions do help define us and the act of telling your story on bpdfamily is a very courageous one. It takes courage to tell your story and to do the hard work of trying to heal yourself. So I think we can say that your actions here have also defined you as courageous. Your advice to others has always been filled with compassion and that also defines you. So in closing, based on your actions on bpdfamily my definition of Harri consists of the followings aspects:

• Resilient



• Courageous



• Compassionate



• Inspirational

Pretty impressive list I would say!

[Blimblam]

Harry

I had 2 families and in one I was the golden child.  You are right about how damaging being the golden child is.  It made me feel invisible and feeling guilty to burst her bubble after being reminded over and over how "I am [her] sunshine." The guilt of taking her sunshine away was that I had settle for invisibility. 

In my other family I had a half brother who was the black sheep so I was ur child bragged about.  But I was held to this image of who I should be and punished if i failed to uphold that image.  My passions were ignored unless it came time to brag in which case I was merely a function of their ego.  I was objectified and the very act of objectification is abusive because the objectified one is merely a function of the subjects ego stroking and te depth and complexity of the Object is invisible. 

The hard part is forgiving the ignorance of the people that objectified us or people that objectify others in general, us knowing how abusive that behavior is.  The reality is the self image of people that "need," to objectify others to feel good about themselves is very weak the confidence has no substance and their very idea of themselves is an illusion they spend their time refining the lie they tell themselves and everyone around them to actually believe it's true. 

My dad used to always say, "as we ramble on through life whatever be our goal keep our eye upon the doughnut and not upon the hole."  While that sounds Cheery and deep all that means is they are running away from their pain reserving their pain to be held by thier validating objects.  Their entire self image a mask that they actually believe is their core self.

But us objectified children know the pain they are hiding from and because we know and recognize that pain we are actually taking the steps to heal the original issue to prevent from passing it on. Those stuck in their "happy bubble," are living a shallow existance and it's sad.

[Leaving]

Harry

I had 2 families and in one I was the golden child.  You are right about how damaging being the golden child is.  It made me feel invisible and feeling guilty to burst her bubble after being reminded over and over how "I am [her] sunshine." The guilt of taking her sunshine away was that I had settle for invisibility. 

In my other family I had a half brother who was the black sheep so I was ur child bragged about.  But I was held to this image of who I should be and punished if i failed to uphold that image.  My passions were ignored unless it came time to brag in which case I was merely a function of their ego.  I was objectified and the very act of objectification is abusive because the objectified one is merely a function of the subjects ego stroking and te depth and complexity of the Object is invisible. 

The hard part is forgiving the ignorance of the people that objectified us or people that objectify others in general, us knowing how abusive that behavior is.  The reality is the self image of people that "need," to objectify others to feel good about themselves is very weak the confidence has no substance and their very idea of themselves is an illusion they spend their time refining the lie they tell themselves and everyone around them to actually believe it's true. 

My dad used to always say, "as we ramble on through life whatever be our goal keep our eye upon the doughnut and not upon the hole."  While that sounds Cheery and deep all that means is they are running away from their pain reserving their pain to be held by thier validating objects.  Their entire self image a mask that they actually believe is their core self.

But us objectified children know the pain they are hiding from and because we know and recognize that pain we are actually taking the steps to heal the original issue to prevent from passing it on. Those stuck in their "happy bubble," are living a shallow existance and it's sad.

Blimblam,

Just wanted I needed to read today. Your father's example about the donut hole is the same philosophy that my brother and mother lives and you're right, the denial turns toxic and causes harm to others.  The denial that you describe is exactly what I confronted in my own family today.  BTW, I'm very proud of myself!  I won't go into all the details but I took my NPD/BPD mother to the dentist today. There were two instances when I confronted her about her denial regarding my BPD/NPD/Passive-aggressive abusive husband.  During a conversation she asked me why the neighbors called the police on my husband last year and when I started to explain to her what happened, she immediately turned into her histrionic soap opera character and told me to stop! and that she didn't want to hear anything I said. She accused me of being violent.  Violent? Oh my gosh.  Please.  I didn't even raise my voice.  That's what my husband does anytime I speak the truth about anything.  They equate truth with violence because in their mind, truth feels threatening like something violent. Anyway,  I stopped her dead in her tracks and blocked her from running out of the room.  I said, ' If you can't handle hearing the painful truth about my life then how do you think I deal with living it. I'm not about to sugar-coat the hell that I live in just because YOU can't handle it.  I'm all alone and have no one to talk to, no one to confide in and no one to support me including YOU, my mother."  Then she pulled her BPD, ' I'll just take myself to the dentist!  let's just forget this'.  We left for the dentist anyway and I forgave her.  It was easy to forgive her words because I had stated exactly what I meant and I felt strong and relieved with no emotional baggage creating a chip on my shoulder.

After the appt and when I pulled into my driveway, I saw my BPD/NPD husband at my house/office and I said, ' OH, he's here '.  I pulled into the grass because he was in the driveway.  My mother said she had to leave but wanted to use the bathroom before she left.  My husband yelled to me to wait just a minute and that he would move his truck and that I could move my car to the parking area/driveway.  Given how my husband is PA and never straight forward with his comments, i asked him if he wanted me to move because he needed to park in the grass where I was and where he usually parks or if he was just being considerate.  My mother scolded me and yelled, ' Why do you do that?  Why do you cause him to escalate and abuse you?".  That was the break-point for me.  I looked at her like she was a child and I sternly scolded her with, ' Mother, I will not tolerate that accusation.   I haven't done anything wrong and I have never caused my husband to abuse me. Why do you defend my abusive husband and my brother's abusive wife and blame your own children who are suffering terribly now.  I have always done everything I can to avoid my husband's abuse just like I did just now.  You see mother, if I didn't ask him to clarify his reasoning, making him accountable, he would have come home and attacked me this evening with, ' Why didn't you wait for me to move my truck... .you didn't wait for me to move my truck because you need to control me! you ignore me! you parked in MY spot just so I would have to move your car."  My mother didn't say a word.  I forgave her once again.  She did her thing, got into her car and life was back to usual.  The good thing is that I don't feel guilty at all.  That's a first.

Unlike all the other days of my life, today I was able to see just how my mother has always blamed me for everything bad in my life and her life.  Everything was my fault except the good things.  All the good that I ever received was just ' luck'.  I recalled the time she blamed me when I was raped in college and told me not to press charges, when I had a lump in my breast and how it could wipe out her inheritance if it were cancer, when my house was ransacked by thugs and my valuables stolen because I must be associating with bad people.  Today, I realized how I would emotionally fold under her words and feel like a horrible woman for disrupting and bringing misery to her life.    I internalized all that blame and shame. 

Not any more.  I see her and my husband for what they are and I take comfort in knowing that I'm not like them at all.

G-d bless each of us who have the courage and the strength to seek the truth and uphold it and defend it.  The truth really does set us free!

[Maisha]

This resonates so much with me.  Especially the part about constantly "fixing problems".  These are traits that I have also carried into adulthood - I fix my problems, my friends' problems, I am a fixer at work, I try to fix my husband's problems even if he doesn't ask me to.  I am trying to take a step back from this role.  As children, when our mothers make us responsible for their happiness, then the golden child only knows how to win her approval by fixing her.  My therapist is encouraging me to take a step back and tell my mother that she is the parent and I am the child.  I can't keep fixing her life for her.  I doubt it will work, but it's worth a shot.  More importantly, there is some internal work for me to do.  I constantly take on responsibility for so many things in my life, I feel like if I don't do it, then no one else will, and that I can't rely on anyone else.  Maybe other golden children have similar issues?

[Leaving]

This resonates so much with me.  Especially the part about constantly "fixing problems".  These are traits that I have also carried into adulthood - I fix my problems, my friends' problems, I am a fixer at work, I try to fix my husband's problems even if he doesn't ask me to.  I am trying to take a step back from this role.  As children, when our mothers make us responsible for their happiness, then the golden child only knows how to win her approval by fixing her.  My therapist is encouraging me to take a step back and tell my mother that she is the parent and I am the child.  I can't keep fixing her life for her.  I doubt it will work, but it's worth a shot.  More importantly, there is some internal work for me to do.  I constantly take on responsibility for so many things in my life, I feel like if I don't do it, then no one else will, and that I can't rely on anyone else.  Maybe other golden children have similar issues?

Maisha,

I wasn't the golden child.  My brother was the golden child.  I was the scapegoat- the one who was responsible for everyone's problems and misery and I was also responsible for creating everyone's happiness.  My brother had a different type of relationship with our mother in many ways.  I can't say that he had it easier but he was conditioned to be the good child who made mother shine as a parent so he was coddled to be a good student, to get higher education and a good job.  I wasn't coddled to do anything except be my mother's friend.  My brother would say horrible things to my mother, get very angry at her and sometimes violent but that never seemed to anger her.  If anything she would run off to her room pouting.    I, on the other hand  was conditioned to BE my mother, her best friend, her ally and therefore never encouraged me to focus and have direction in my life because SHE didn't want any direction in her life.  My mother is an irresponsible brat who does whatever she wants to do and when.  Very erratic and oppositional.  

Maisha, it's very important that you learn now to let others be accountable for their own lives because you don't want to subconsciously choose friends or a spouse that you will need to fix or need to fix their bad habits that are wrecking your life.  Once you enter into a marriage, it's almost impossible to just say, ' Screw him, let him deal with the problems he created' because his problems ARE your problems and will affect everything from your finances to your health and safety.  People should come into your life as whole healthy and independent people who don't NEED you but rather, WANT to share their life with you.  Two should be easier than one but that isn't the case when we marry forever children.

[Attie]

I was an only child. She always wanted more children. 5 or 6 if possible. But she couldn't. I wonder what would have happened if she did. Couldn't have been good... .

I was split... .and it made me go   during my early years and  :'( during my later years and   today.

I remember that I would get up in the morning as a very, very young child, thinking... .I don't remember any dreams, I need to have a dream to tell her about, she'll ask about my dream and if I have none to talk about she'll be upset. That is one of my earliest memories... .

I lived my life knowing that if I do something wrong, she will turn in matter of seconds and either deliver a silent treatment for hours (maybe interjected with 'if you don't know what you did then I can't help you' or 'you know what you've done, stop pretending, you're worse than your father' and then blow up or blow up instantly.

The only problem was I never knew what the something wrong would be... .

The shoes belonged here on Monday, on Tuesday in the exact same place, they'd be in the wrong place. I think on days when she'd switch and split me black and make me out to be the worst child that had ever been born it didn't matter what I did. If the shoes were in the right place, the hair was wrong if the hair was good the trousers were wrong and if the trousers were good then something else wasn't being done in the right way. Today I'm pretty sure it didn't actually matter what happened. She was just splitting and switching to the Witch.

So basically I grew up with no rules. I knew the consequences for breaking the rules was violence and emotional abuse but I didn't know what the rules were because they changed.

And it's a problem still today... .I constantly expect people around me to get angry for no reason whatsoever, I'm constantly on the lookout for a switch. I'm hyper-alert and it's unhealthy.

We had a boy from a poor family from another country at our place for a summer. Part of a project to give children from poor families a cool summer. Heh. Poor guy. For some reason I was the golden child an entire summer and spent the 5 weeks in utter panic trying to protect him from the wrath of my mother (I must have been around 5 or 6).

And against cousins and children of other families I'd always be the black child. And I never understood. They'd be immature, rude, make mistakes, didn't use their cutlery properly, ate with their mouths full... .they were children, how children were supposed to be... .and I was sitting there, perfect behaviour and all to make sure she had nothing to complain about when we got home? It never worked, they were always gold and I was black when we got home she would tell me all the things I did wrong and I wouldn't understand the world because they so clearly didn't follow any of her rules.

It just all made no sense to me most of the time. Grrrrr!