Stop Complaining About Neck Pain to Your Parents
Getting to know your parents as people is complex. And a privilege.
There comes a time when we recognize our parents as people.
All of a sudden, this first-nameless orb of dedication comes into focus. They reveal themselves as a person that can and will exist outside of us.
For many, this clarity happens in the twenties. And for some, it may never happen (these are the people that refer to their parent as “mother” or “father” in conversations with colleagues. For example, “I’ll be back online after lunch—taking mother to an appointment” or “mother has always had a salacious appetite for booze and old Westerns”.)
When we begin to see our parents as people, it’s a trip. We recognize their interests (apart from our own well-being) and they become subjects of sociological analysis.
“Mom” becomes Sherry, Maria, or Ann.
Seeing our Mom (and Dad) as people is something that is typically brought on by our own maturity. Specifically, by getting off the teet and moving out.
With some distance, our codependent interconnectedness becomes frayed. We gain clarity and a new view perspective. For the first time, we see the individual pixels that make up the familiar picture.
Sherry is artistic. Maria might be autistic. Ann thinks cocktail shrimp should be boiled for 17 minutes straight. Getting to know our parents can be jarring.
As we discover the person behind the parent, imperfections will reveal themselves. Some of the dysfunction, idiosyncrasies, and offbeat behaviours get underscored.
As it turns out, unquestioned truths like: “blond hair is for whores”, “all rich people are evil”, and “if it’s yellow let it mellow—we’re on a septic tank, goddamnit”, may not be universal.
Origin stories for our own dysfunction, idiosyncrasies and offbeatness will be written. As we look more objectively at our parents, we hold up a mirror. We may see parts of ourselves that we don’t like or fully understand.
But above all else, when the fuller image comes into focus we should see sacrifice. And love. And how we went for so long without considering the complex person.
We saw our parent as: driver, meal-maker, wound-healer, caregiver, shopper, ATM machine, support system, and lice-checker. In reality, they were all of these things and they did so by putting parts of themselves on hold in order to be the black-unitard-wearing, background performer in our stage production.
Many of our parents shortchanged their own ambition (and impulse to flee) in order to make us whole(r).
And so, while there is still an irresistible urge to into whiny brat narcissists around our parents, we owe it to them—to their sacrifice—to reel it in.
To lower the creep factor.
To leech less.
To encourage them to choose themselves again.
Whether we recognize it or not, we wield unbelievable power over the well-being of our parents. It’s time that we release them from duty. Or at the very least, start giving decent Christmas presents.
Note: It should be acknowledged that some parents were/are shitty. While them being a fuck-up is an unfair burden for you to carry, recognizing their shortcomings as human may help set you free.
If this is the case, give that Christmas cashmere duster back to you.
In an effort to give back to our parents, think: after 20+ years of service, how would we want to be acknowledged? How would we treat a best friend who puts us above everything else? Sure, a nice card and retirement banner is a start. But how can we repay the eternal debt of our Mom throwing away her youth, 28-inch waist, and independence for our lap around la terre?
It starts with treating them like people we *occasionally* want to impress.
This can take the form of:
Not spewing a monologue of woe whenever they call
Calling them first
Picking up the bill
Going over for a sleepover
Drinking a bottle of wine together
Not drinking a bottle of wine together
Being self-sufficient
Listening
Showing interest when they talk about themselves
Living up to our own potential (*reclaiming our shameless*)
Admittedly, not acting like a life-sucking hog to your parent will feel unnatural at first. However, it can be achieved with some reprogramming.
While we may be accustomed to using our parents as emotional dumping grounds—offloading toxic waste and then backing the hell outta there—it’s a delicate balance. There comes a time when we need to graduate into a fuller, mano y mano relationship.
As a grown ass adult around our parent, here are some avoidables:
Don’t brag and nab tirelessly about ourselves. Yes, your Mom cares and will listen about your piqued interest in Japanese Kabuki, but it doesn’t mean it’s right.
Don’t abruptly move out of your rented apartment for a new city (hey, every girl’s gotta move to Montreal once) and ask your Mom to pack up your things.
Don’t give IOUs for Birthdays and Holiday gifts. IOUs do not count and tarnish one’s gift-giving rep (which is a much-admired life skill).
Don’t make and break plans. Hot tip: Overshoot any ETA so you can actually be on time or early and avoid the “where are you” texts and phone calls.
Don’t show up empty-handed for everything. A bottle of wine, cheese bort, dessert, or the whole damn pot roast goes a long way.
Don’t dictate the dinner menu and throw a tantrum when your 28th Birthday dinner takes the form of a jarred pesto because “basil is out of season in April”.
Don’t let them pay for everything. They should feel taken care of once in a while.
Don’t preach to your parents. It isn’t your job to act like a superior prick about organic milk. Remember: Your parents have lived more life than you.
Don’t stop getting to know your parents as people. Ask the questions, show up, look at the photo album, take the long ass road trip.
Our adult years are reserved for getting to know our parents as people. The more we learn, the more we can appreciate how multi-layered life—and the people who raised us—really are. Truly seeing our parents—flaws and kidney-trade worthy traits included—is a privilege not afforded to all.
One day, ready or not, the jig will be up.
So, stop complaining about neck pain from your computer job and go do something nice.