Guilt Trip
My father and his wife spent years convincing me I was a bad son, and I believed it. Genuinely, from when I was around 3-4 until I was 23, I thought I was a bad son and felt so guilty. It wasn’t until I was 23 that I realized that they were the ones canceling seeing me and then calling me up to reprimand me for not seeing them. It was them. They were bad parents, I wasn’t a bad son. Their friendly facade to me and my friends was so thick that I never saw it, and a lot of my friends still don’t see it.
I cut contact with them three years ago and have refused to acknowledge their existence since. I just tell people I don’t have a dad.
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