resonant | Filial obedience, and how to avoid it

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Filial obedience, and how to avoid it

Here at the beginning of the holiday season -- that annual celebration of human relationships -- is the time when I want to say:

People on my friends list. I like you. I want you to quit giving your parents permission to browbeat you.

Those of you with utterly, inescapably toxic parents probably already know that most advice isn't useful to you, including what I'm about to say. But those of you whose parents are a little critical or interfering but not actually committable whackjobs, listen up.

There are about ten people on my flist who are having the exact same argument with one or both of their parents. The argument goes like this.

Parent: Your finances are a mess. (Or fill in the criticism of your choice: Your house is dirty. Your beloved is kind of immature. Your kids need jackets on. You're fat. Your best friend ... isn't she a little ... mannish? Such mood swings, dear; you should really do something about them.)

You [defensively]: No, they're not. Yes, they are, but there's a good reason for it. Look, everything's fine. I've got it all under control. Listen, let me explain to you about the finances -- see, buying a house is a really excellent investment in the housing market here, and our banker feels that the level of debt isn't too much for our income -- see, I'll show you the letter that says so -- and in the last year we've reduced our credit card debt by more than ten thousand dollars, and so we ...

Parent: Ten thousand dollars?! You owed ten thousand dollars?! Why, that's criminal. In my day, we didn't buy things we couldn't afford.

You [testily]: Well, maybe in your day you didn't have student loans from law school, huh? Maybe in your day you were living with Gramps out on the farm insteaad of trying to keep an apartment in San Francisco -- you have no idea what the rent prices are out here, and --

Parent: Well, perhaps you should live within your means, dear. You eat out at least three times a week, and --

You: Shut up! You can't control my life! Just mind your own business!

Right. Now. Here's something to remember:

When you give your parents a lot of information on your life, what you're really doing is trying to convince them that you're right, because what you really want is to hear that they approve of what you're doing with your life.

You've got to cut that out.

You can't make them approve of you.

Stop asking for their approval. Stop giving them ammunition.

"But what do I say when they say those awful things, then?"

Respond to all criticism and personal questions with vague answers that sound agreeable but are basically meaningless, and then quickly change the subject, ideally to something you know they can't shut up about. (Did you move around a lot when Dad was in the Navy? Is Branson really worth the trip? Did you get good service on the plane ride here?)

Now. Here's the way that conversation ought to go.

Parent: Your finances are a mess.

You: How interesting. You want tea or Coke to drink?

Parent: Really, dear, you could just drink water, and then maybe your grocery bills wouldn't be so high and you wouldn't be in so much debt.

You: You may be right. I'm having tea; sure I can't get you anything? Well, sit down and make yourself at home.

Parent: Well, your living room is certainly a mess.

You: [light laugh] That may be. Is Great-Uncle Horace still dating that showgirl from Duluth?

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I'm here to testify (hence the icon) that this is all true. A friend of mine from college pointed out a number of years ago that she told her parents a great deal less than either of her sisters did, and thus her relationship with them was a lot easier than her sisters' was; and at the same time, while my relationship with my own parents was better than my friend's sisters' relationship with theirs, it wasn't as pleasant and relaxing as hers. But, magically, when I stopped giving them so much information, all that changed.

And my parents aren't even especially of the interfering/critical type. They genuinely want to help (which has not been true always of my grandparents or aunts and uncles of any generation). But the line between help and micromanagement is fuzzy and mobile, of course.

It's hard, at the age of 22, to realize that you don't have to tell your parents when, for example, you get a speeding ticket. Leaving town for the weekend and not telling them? Ack! (Memo to 24-year-old self: you have a cell phone. It doesn't matter where you are, when they call.) These days, my job search is prolonged and frustrating, and when they ask about it I tell them yeah, a few irons in the fire, I'm getting through it. It's incredibly relaxing.

In short: WORD.

Hmm. I WILL tell them if I'm flying though. That's just-- to me a smart move.

But yeah, I'm going to random city someplace? They don't need to know. My land line fowards to my cell after a certain number of rings anyway.

Well, yeah. I mean I don't keep secrets from my parents. It's just that it took me a while to learn that there's an ENORMOUS middle ground between "keeping secrets" and "reporting everything". If I'm driving somewhere and they call while I'm there -- "Yeah, it's noisy because I'm on the corner of 43rd and Broadway, can I call you back when I get home? -- Yes, New York. Talk to you later." :-) If I'm flying somewhere I'm likely to tell them by the way or just in a here's-my-itinerary e-mail before I go. I've also found that it's all about the tone.

*nods* Yes totally agree. I'll automatically foward flight itineraries to them about a week in advance "Just FYI you know." I'll give more details if I'll be inccomunicado for long periods of time, etc.

I remember that first time in college I realized that it was up to ME to determine if I was sick enough to go to class. Or that time I first said "Huh. I'm not going to ASK if I can go to Boston, I'll just let them know." It's a transitionary mindset that really-- you aren't prepared for because no one talks about it.

Yeah, it's definitely a stage in the development of a mature relationship.

Except where it isn't, and you have 50-year-olds like my brother-in-law, who's still walking around in an almost visible fog of anger because he can't grow up until he hears his father say, "I respect you," and his father (1) doesn't respect him because he (the b-i-l) is a junkie with anger-management problems, and (2) is, in any event, a strong silent type from the 1920s who prefers to communicate affection by building you a new driveway.

It's hard, at the age of 22, to realize that you don't have to tell your parents when, for example, you get a speeding ticket. Leaving town for the weekend and not telling them? Ack!

*giggles*

I think my family has this down already -- my brother didn't tell mom when he got busted for carrying a concealed weapon. He got off on a technicality since he's licensed for interstate transport of firearms, but still, it was a wise decision.

IOW, this advice is SO right.

busted for carrying a concealed weapon

Whoa. I think not telling your parents there could be viewed as a method of preventing heart attacks.

You have a point there. :)

It wouldn't have bothered her that he was carrying; he's a sharpshooter, and a gunsmith by trade. But sentencing could have involved all sorts of bad things like loss of his licenses for life and jail time. :(

I suspect he still does it anyway. He lives in a not very nice part of LA.

I should be grateful. My parental conversations generally go:
Ma: You should [insert annoying criticism and advice here]
Me: You remember that discussion we had last week?
Me: The one where I said it took me fifty years to stop my mum giving me unwanted advice?
Me: That one. How is she?
Ma: She's fine, you should visit her.
Me: I will. Tea?
Ma: Yes please.
Me: Ok, then?
Ma: Ok, ok. Point bloody taken.

[laughing so hard!]

I don't know if my mother ever had problems getting along with her parents; she's never mentioned it. My father's father died when he was a kid (and the general family sentiment on that is "and good riddance") but I gather that his mother was kind of a terror.

can i borrow your mother?

Sure, very low daily rates!

I wish I'd seen that yesterday. Might have saved me the agony of sitting here, hoping the door is barricaded well enough and not answering the phone.

Oh dear. [pats you]

My mother and I get along pretty well. Of course, she lives 700 miles away and I rarely see her more than once a year...

I have two unmarried sisters over 30, so she's probably concentrating all her parental disapproval on them. I'm a little horrified that all it takes to be the 'good' daughter is to get married and give birth.

Yep, I think that one key to familial harmony is distance. My parents live 2000 miles away, so we get along really well.

This is me and my in-laws. I was discussing this with the spouse last night; when he was growing up, he lived two blocks from his grandparents and saw them nearly every day. I said, "If I saw your parents nearly every day, I would have to deal with all sorts of issues that I'm now able to let slide."

Seconding the distance part of the equation! 1500 miles away is juuuust right for us (college was only 1000 miles--wasn't far enough).

It can be so hard to just shut up, though. My mother is pretty much completely wonderful, and we get along perfectly well most of the time, so that makes it even more difficult to remember to just keep my mouth shut about certain topics. It's like my brain just shuts down, and suddenly, instead of "By the way, I passed that anatomy test", what's coming out of my mouth is "By the way, I almost failed that anatomy test by a point", and we're off. Because, yeah, I could have shown up at the lecture a little more often, but I passed, so who the hell cares? Except my mother, that is.

The older I get, the less I explain. Basically I only offer explanations to people who have a legitimate right to have input into the decision (which usually means only the spouse). Everybody else gets "Oh, I can't make it." "Why?" "Because I'm afraid it's impossible."

Miss Manners would enthusiastically approve. (In fact I think that's exactly the line she advocates, "Because I'm afraid it's impossible." [g])

I probably stole it from her; I follow her advice as though she were a religious leader.

This is a different subject (though related), but I've been amazed at the number of people who think you're obligated to give a reason if you decline an invitation. Even if the reason is "Because the time I spend with you at work is punishment enough" or "Because I really don't think I can see two such morons get married and plan to reproduce without weeping uncontrollably."

as though she were a religious leader

... You mean she's not?!

:-)

the number of people who think you're obligated to give a reason

God, yes. At least for weddings there's usually that response card in there, so you can just tick "unable to attend" and send it back. (It's when they call you to find out why you're unable that you run into trouble.) I do feel obligated to provide an excuse (of some value, if not 100% accurate) when I back out of something I'd already agreed to do; but just a plain old invitation? I'm sorry, but I just can't.

Gah.

Related to this is what I've been trying to teach my mother: that it is not a crime -- against anyone at all -- not to answer the phone. You get to decide if you're receiving visitors or not; the phone (and the front door) doesn't.

It was a revelatory moment for me when I realized I don't have to have a reason. Or rather, "Because I don't want to" is sufficient unto itself. It's just not taught as an option, most of the time, you know? If someone asks something of you, you're obligated, unless you have a GOOD REASON.

Very freeing moment, learning "Because I'm afraid it's impossible" was a good reason. *g*

At times I have just learned to say to my mom what Phoebe said that one time on "Friends"-- "Oh, I wish I could, but I don't want to."

HEE! Yes, that's a good one, too. *g*

Yes! There's an entire branch of manners that's devoted to polite ways of phrasing "I don't want to."

People often ask me how I can stand to live with my mother at my age (nearly 30) but it's because she DOESN'T ask about finacial stuff. We don't talk about and thus get along like best friends.

I think I could probably live with my mom; we'd have to do something about her desire to control every bite that everybody on the planet eats, but I have a strategy for that already.

My dad would be trickier, because he and I both feel that we know the most reasonable, most sensible, most efficient way to do everything, and we will tell you.

I hope I will have that habit under control by the time the kidlet is 30!

RepreSENT!

I've gotten good at not giving my interfering, insane father ammunition about my personal life (though it's easy; all he wants is for me to have babies, and that's an easy topic to skip away from).

My sisters and I have a harder time with his belief that anti-woman government policies don't matter, though. Oh, politics and feminism, you...uh...hairy beasts, you.

I do have trouble with what to do about horrible political comments and casual racism -- on the one hand, I don't feel right letting things pass without comment, but on the other hand, commenting violates my general policy of "don't dignify it with a response, and don't invite discussion on it."

My strategy on that one, which I'm not 100% happy with, is rolled eyes and a "Oh, honestly, now."

nlanza and I have taken to just saying "well, nice seeing you all" and leaving when my father takes to racist comments. We've told my mom that yes, we might leave in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner, or someone's birthday meal, and we're sorry that will cause her pain.

That's easier to do if you live in the same town as the fam, though, which is less and less common these days. It also...has its costs. Like hurting my mom.

Well-said, Resonant! I'm of mixed parentage (crazy Mum, sane Dad, thankfully not together for lo these almost-forty years), and I've had nothing at all to do with The Crazed One for the past fourteen years. She doesn't know where I live or what I do or how to find me, because down in Hell they have horror movies where the Devil gets posessed by my Mum. That bad.

You wouldn't believe the flak I get for this, even from folks whose parents are *horrible*-- "How can you just not talk to her? How can you just cut her out of your life? What's wrong with you?"

Here's what's wrong with me: I don't like wasting time. Wasting time is the closest I get to 'sin' in my world. And playing passive-aggressive guilt-trip bullshit manipulation games with my crazy parent is the biggest waste of my time I can think of.

So: thanks for saying what you said, and for your excellent and modest proposal to promote greater sanity. Think of all the slash folks could write if they weren't distracted by parental disapproval! :-)

down in Hell they have horror movies where the Devil gets posessed by my Mum

[feeling a vague sense of guilt for laughing so hard at your misfortune]

I think there are times when, barring the magical transformation of someone into someone else altogether, the best you can do is choose not to go back into that burning building.

. Think of all the slash folks could write if they weren't distracted by parental disapproval!

Yes! Absolutely! It's another step in the direction of Saving The World Through Smut.

You know, one of the things I had to do, because my mother is not so much controlling as she has a tendency to forget I'm not a 22-year-old, single grad student who can devote her holiday to cleaning up her house for other visitors and whose schedule doesn't need accommodating, is just limit the length of my visits. I no longer spend a week at her house around Christmas. Instead, I go exactly when my spouse can go and leave exactly when he needs to. It's made the last two holidays so much less upsetting for me. And I think it's a transition every adult needs to make sooner or later, that there comes a point when you're allowed to not have them make all the decisions about your time anymore. You're allowed to stay home for a holiday if that's what you want.

Oh, I was so happy when the kidlet was born and we decided that babies needed to spend Christmas at home with their families, so we could stop the cross-country Christmas flights!

Of course, eventually it goes full circle, and you end up traveling when you don't want to travel not because you're presumed to be unable to cook a turkey for yourself but because that's when your mom happens to have her hip-replacement surgery scheduled ...

I do this, too (and I learned to take Res' advice years ago, thank god). The problem now is the "you never stay long enough" whining. It beats the hell out of me why my mother wants to spend so much time with me when it's clear that neither of us enjoy it, but that's the pattern: she asks how long I'll stay this time, I tell her, she says I'm always so busy and she wishes I could stay longer, I change the subject, the visit is tense and uncomfortable because I won't directly answer most of her questions, by the end of it I am grateful to get away, but before I leave she has to make a big deal about how she never has enough time with me.

Bah.

But it's better than it was when I would tell her all about my life, that's for sure.

That's so odd! "I don't spend enough time suffering and causing others to suffer!"

Do you suppose she might mean, "If we did this more often we might learn how to do it better"?

That could be. It's really the only interpretation that makes any kind of sense.

Im' trying to figure out how much this applies to me or not and realizing that I think I've slowly started growing up in the last couple of years and done that unconsciously. I mean, when my dad and stepmom came a couple of weeks ago, my house wasn't clean and I didn't kill myself trying to do it.

Of course my family lives on another continent, so the encounters are far apart but all the more intense because of that.

Now only to get my husband to learn all of this :-)

the encounters are far apart but all the more intense because of that.

Yes. I get along pretty well with my parents, but sometimes I wonder if my relationship with my in-laws would be smoother if we saw each other for a weekend once a month instead of for two weeks twice a year. But then there's the issue I mentioned above, where there are things that I can let slide twice a year but would have to deal with if we saw them more often.

Brilliant advice. Your analysis is spot on, truly. I'm certainly going to try this with the parental unit...

How interesting, you may be right!

*grins*

Well, I hope it works for you!

Sometimes I wonder if maybe it's a relief for the parents, too: "Oh, good, she's probably continuing to make stupid decisions, but at least I don't have to hear about them any more!"

I don't generally have too much trouble with getting unwanted advice from my folks, because yes, that's a good working strategy. *g*

My problem is that between us we have four parents living in four different states, none closer than 500 miles away, all of whom want to see us at least once a year. Which isn't unreasonable, but is expensive and time-consuming...

Oh, that's difficult. The world is too damned big, isn't it?

Now that I think of it, the people on my friendslist are the only people under 30 (but over 8) that I have contact with from day to day. Most people my age have figured this out by trial and error, or else their parents have died or they've cut off all contact, but it's something younger adults are still struggling with.

the people on my friendslist are the only people under 30 (but over 8) that I have contact with from day to day

I see my university students, but that's a very different dynamic of course so mostly I don't know (don't want or need to know) what's going on in their personal lives.

Age really does make a difference here. Not age directly so much as experience. Over time you have to figure out strategies that work for you, and for most people that simply takes a while because it does involve changing the whole traditional dynamic between self and parents, and it's not easy on any side to alter those expectations.

I think, too, for a lot of people it seems unfair and saddening that they have to take control of the relationship with their parents -- that they have to direct it and work at it a little, just as they would with any other relationship.

I suppose it is a little sad, in the sense that it makes it impossible to forget that you're not a child any more.

My mother, father, and grandmother have a tendency to forget that I'm an employed adult with a college degree, no outstanding debt, a car owner, and a world traveller. Maybe now that I live in Chicago things will be different, but somehow I doubt it.

I just found out this morning that my aunt and uncle are coming to Thanksgiving, and that I get to share the house with them and my parents. I have the feeling that I'll be grabbing my laptop and fleeing to my sister's house a lot this weekend.

My daughter is seven, and I have a tendency to forget that she does a perfectly adequate job of keeping track of her own bladder. So I have a little more sympathy for parents who do this now!

I have the feeling that I'll be grabbing my laptop and fleeing to my sister's house a lot this weekend.

My in-laws recently moved to a new house that's walking distance from two coffee shops, and our relationship got so much smoother! I've tried to phrase it as "I need some alone time every day" rather than "Sometimes I just have to get away from y'all and your nuttiness."

So I have a little more sympathy for parents who do this now!

I try to be patient, and gently remind them that I know how to do laundry, pay bills, and buy groceries.

My in-laws recently moved to a new house that's walking distance from two coffee shops, and our relationship got so much smoother!

Lucky! My parents live in the countryside, with the trees, cows, and deer. But my brother-in-law's been doing tons of work on their house, so I have the excuse of needing to see their new living room! Which means I shall admire their house for five minutes, and then I'll pour myself a drink, play with their dogs, and hang out stress-free.

I try to be patient, and gently remind them that I know how to do laundry, pay bills, and buy groceries.

ooh, patience. good one. I've tended to go with the eye-rolling and snark, especially when my mom asks me to make the rice for dinner, and then proceeds to tell me "that's 2 cups water with 1 cup of rice." Every. damn. time. So here's me:

::drawling:: "Mom, I've been making rice for over 20 yrs now. I think I remember how to do it from day to day." or, ::eye roll:: "yes, mom, because a national merit scholar couldn't possibly be bothered to memorize the recipe for white rice." or even, "are you *sure* it's 2 cups water? I thought it was 3."

I'll have to find something equally annoying to inflict upon my daughter.

Wow, am I really the only one whose parents honestly never ever do this kind of thing? It just floors me that parents could be like that.

*takes notes so as not to do this to her own kids*

My parents have never been really awful, and they've gotten even better over the years. But, you know, some people are naturally more meddlesome than others ... and some of those meddlesome people do spawn ...

::raises hand::

Nope, this reminds me of how amazing my parents are. Because if they're coming to visit and the kitchen's a mess, it bothers me, but my mom just repeats her refrain, "It's your house."

Which is made extra generous by the fact that my parents gifted me the downpayment money.

I get along great with my parents (my dad especially). My mom has a tendency toward micromanaging, but she knows it's there and she usually recognizes herself doing it. I think my relationship with them will be perfect...once my mother is no longer running anything (i.e., money, insurance, plane flights, dentist appointments, etc.) for me.

The amusing thing about my great relationship with my mom and dad shows up in many, many, getting-to-know-you conversations:
Me: My mother's a minister.
Other Person: Oh? [slightly taken aback; this is sometimes because I do not, at first glance, come across as a Christian, and sometimes, "wait, woman minister?"] So, are you Christian, then?
Me: No, I'm an agnostic.
Other Person: Oh, does that make it hard for you to get along? (alternative: Oh, that must make it hard to get along.)
Me: Um, no. We have a great relationship.
Other Person: [surprised, and/or politely disbelieving] Really?
Me: Really. No, really. Um, my dad's kind of vaguely agnostic too? No, they get along great, too, what with having been married for 25 years...

Also fun is the my-dad-was-the-stay-at-home-parent conversation. And then, of course, my dad is just awesome in general; you've probably seen some of my posts about his wackiness.

*looks up* Wow, that was long. Um, not to spam you about my parents or anything. *g*

That's so cool! I'm beginning to think that some people are great parents of babies but not other ages, and others are great parents of kids but not other ages (I myself was only a tolerable parent of a baby) -- and some fortunate few are great parents of adults.

taking your advice home with me this thanksgiving weekend. :)

I do hope it works for you!

Of course, one problem with this advice is that you have to come prepared with other things to talk about. I've found a grandchild very useful in this respect, but for those without a grandchild, an old photo album makes a decent substitute.

This is so, so true. Of course, you might have to brace yourself for attempted guilt-trips because you don't tell them things, especially if you have siblings who do continue to share everything in their lives. That's easy enough to circumvent, though.

Parent: We never talk anymore! Your sister shares more than you do!

Me: Oh, how is Sister Eros?

Parent: She's fine. You--

Me: How about the kids?

Parent: ::triggered into grandparent mode:: They're great! Just last week, I talked to Niecelet Eros and....

This is how all my conversations with my parents go, which is why I don't have many of them, but it's worth a bit of verbal dancing to have them out of my business.

Yes! You have to have a strategy!

The spouse and I will actually have a conversation beforehand and come up with one or two non-emotionally-loaded things on which we can ask for advice. ("OK, I absolutely am not willing to listen to your dad go on about how we haven't fixed up the house; how about if you ask him if he knows anything useful about getting promoted at work?")

You have performed a valuable public service.

Rest upon your laurels.

I wonder if any parents of adults read the post and went, "Hey!"

Mr. Smarty-Pants (my spouse, and son of a veritable harpy) has this kind of agreeable evasion down to an ART FORM. I have seen it work wonders.

It's really amazing, isn't it? Only the most determined meddler can really stand against it -- and only if they admit they're meddling.

Huh. Being only 19 years old, I have a feeling I may still have this all ahead of me. My relationship with my parents has been a little strained over the years (with my dad in particular), but now that I'm living away from home thinks have improved exponentially. Oh well- I'll just have to try and keep this post in mind for the future. *grin*

I suppose that if you had a parent who was really determined to Have A Talk With You on some subject, you wouldn't be able to shake them loose this easily. But in reality, an amazing number of them think they're "just making conversation" -- and another big chunk of them know they're meddling but want to pretend they're just making conversation, and so there's no way for them to object to the change of subject without admitting what they're doing.

I don't know the specifics of any issues on your friends list, but I must say... SING IT! Thank you for the timely reminder. :)

We're lucky -- we always spend Thanksgiving with one set of friends and Christmas with a different set, and see the families at less emotionally loaded times of year. This conversation has reminded me that I need to tell my friends how happy that makes me!

I agree that this is a valuable public service.

The thread about giving a reason when you're declining an invitation reminds me of Clues for the Clueless: Dogbert's Big Book of Manners and the part in which Dogbert gives guys hints regarding whether the girl is interested or not when she declines an invitation. The trick was that if her reason was general but likely ("I'm really busy that day") she's interested, but if her reason is specific but improbable she's probably not interested. I think the example was, "I have to wash my cat."

When I read it I thought it was hilarious, and still kind of do, but of course you could find out if the person you're asking out is interested by the enthusiasm of the reply: "Oh, no, I can't make it on Friday! But how about Saturday?" versus "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can make it. Thanks for asking, though!"

Of course, the other half of the etiquette challenge is accepting a "No, I can't," without rudely demanding, "Why not?"

A friend and I once compiled a list of the craziest excuses we could think of:

I'd love to, but ...

... I did my own thing and now I've got to undo it.
... I have to go to the post office to see if I'm still wanted.
... I prefer to remain an enigma.
... I'm trying to cut down.
... The man on television told me to say tuned.

excellent points. i think it's really all about managing your own expectations. i might wish over and over and over again that when i mention a doctor's appointment to my father i'll get a response other than "doctors don't know anything" but wishing it does not make it so. it's when i remember to not mention the appointment because i know that the chances of getting the response i want are roughly zero that things improve :).

(also, i second everyone on the distance. one of my first moments of revelation when i got to college was that if one of my parents went off on some kind of tirade all i had to do was hang up the phone. they couldn't exactly teleport 500 miles to continue talking.)

Especially useful for those who are cursed with parents who will follow them into another room to continue an argument. [shudders at the thought]

i think it's really all about managing your own expectations.

Exactly! Which is, I think, why it's so difficult to do; it means you stop wishing the other person would change and instead you change yourself.

a slight variation on this, designed more to amuse yourself. (but you have to be able to project ABSOLUTE SINCERETY)

parent: omg, this place is a mess!
you: (nodding soberly)i know, i'm such a pig
parent: if you'd just tried, you could clean a room a day! but you never apply youself!
you: (sighing) i know! i'm such a slacker! i never finish anything!
parent: you're smarter than this!
you: actually? i think i'm too stupid. really.

(okay, *i* find it amusing, anyway)

This reminds me of an article I once read about what to do if your relatives give you trouble about your weight. It recommended looking at them with big, sad eyes and saying, "I'm so sorry you can't love me the way I am."

I told my father that if he wanted a Barbie so badly I'd buy him one.

*dies laughing* holy CRAP did that work? because i wish it did with my father... he just steamrolls right through whatever not-so-subtle remark i've made to try and stop him, and continues right on saying exactly why i'm not quite perfect enough for him... which unfortunately usually involves listing all the traits i share with my mother (his incredibly thankful ex), and therefore are the worst things i could possibly do/act/feel/think etc.
*snorts* a Barbie... dude. that's a brilliant response...

God, he sounds obnoxious.

Not that I don't have a running commentary going in my head about what's wrong with some people -- but I'm not so arrogant as to expect them to be interested!

i think he sees me more as an extension of my mother, really, and so it's 'okay' to compare us. it sucks, but i'm fairly self-confident, and i don't let him get to me. arrogant is definitely the word i'd use to describe my dad. luckily i don't live with him anymore though, so woot!
*hugs*

Bwah!

I discovered this method of interaction several years back and support it heartily, although I'm now experimenting with what happens when you come out the other side: what happens if I gradually reintroduce specific detail? Can they handle it, or does it become a crowbar with which to beat me about the head?

So far it's going okay, although it might be going better if I was not afraid to make it explicit: "Folks, I will tell you what's going on with me only on condition that you not harass me about all minor decisions in the process."

I suppose I've tried this to an extent -- I mean, I'll tell them what's going on, and I'll tell them what decision I've/we've made, but usually I won't share the reasons for those decisions unless I'm looking for input.

Which sometimes I am. Just, you know, I want advice on what I ask for advice on (e.g. how you make a pie crust that isn't tough) and not on what I don't ask for advice on (e.g. whether now is a good time to stop at that traffic light right there).

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Filial obedience, and how to avoid it

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