How to Be Alone: If You Want To, and Even If You Don't

by Lane Moore

We have to erase the idea that if you come from anything less than a Good Family, you are bad. And if you come from a Good Family, you’re good. But we put this bullshit on one another all the time. Everything, culturally, is weighted by whatever you were born into.

it is very commonplace for abusive or absent parents, once their (technical) child grows up and becomes successful, to suddenly become Proud Parents! Because they know they can claim you as Theirs now and everyone will believe them. You’re like a basic black suitcase that’s been circling the baggage claim for twenty-five years and they didn’t want you, sneered at what a piece of shit you were, laughed at the idea anyone would have a suitcase that ugly, maybe even kicked you a few times, who knows why, but then the zipper pulled apart and, oh shit, are there diamonds in there? “Excuse me! That’s my suitcase! Yeah, totally was this whole time!” It will never occur to these people that you became the person you became despite them. That you, magical, wonderful, holy shit wow you, took the bag of rotting maggots they gave you and turned it into Disneyland. That you took years of physical, verbal, and/or sexual abuse, neglect, being told you were worthless, being told you were nothing, shown you were nothing, treated like nothing, and somehow, in your own way, you became everything. And our culture lets them swoop in and claim, “Yeah, my kid’s great,” and our brains think, “Wow, this person with a great child must also be great!” because we’re trained to all the time.

So if you raised yourself, and you’re reading this, I am so proud of you. You raised a hell of a kid. And it wasn’t easy—I can’t even imagine, no one can. (Okay, I kind of can, but still.) But you’re here and you could’ve easily backslid into pain and nothingness and worthlessness and hopelessness, and maybe you did backslide, time and again, but every time, you climbed back up and tried to be kinder and softer and find more room in your heart for compassion instead of hatred, hope instead of defeat. And let me tell you, someone (you) really raised you right.

It is so important to know we can hold our relatives, especially our parents, accountable. That regardless of “the best they could do,” if you were not fed or protected or held or shown affection and love and attention, if you did not feel safe, then their best was not good enough. It just wasn’t. And you are then free to do what you want with that information. Maybe that means you don’t talk to them anymore, or you talk to them like you would a coworker who used to steal your lunch from the fridge—with distance and hesitance, but you are allowed to choose your own safety and well-being over the comfort level of someone who did not properly parent you.

And I would tell you that you are loved and you matter and you are trying so hard. And that you deserve love and that any love you haven’t received yet is waiting for you somewhere out there, and I know you’re getting impatient and you’re ready for it now, but it’s coming, hold tight.