this post was submitted on 25 Jun 2023
249 points (98.4% liked)
Asklemmy
43899 readers
943 users here now
A loosely moderated place to ask open-ended questions
Search asklemmy ๐
If your post meets the following criteria, it's welcome here!
- Open-ended question
- Not offensive: at this point, we do not have the bandwidth to moderate overtly political discussions. Assume best intent and be excellent to each other.
- Not regarding using or support for Lemmy: context, see the list of support communities and tools for finding communities below
- Not ad nauseam inducing: please make sure it is a question that would be new to most members
- An actual topic of discussion
Looking for support?
Looking for a community?
- Lemmyverse: community search
- sub.rehab: maps old subreddits to fediverse options, marks official as such
- [email protected]: a community for finding communities
~Icon~ ~by~ ~@Double_[email protected]~
founded 5 years ago
MODERATORS
you are viewing a single comment's thread
view the rest of the comments
view the rest of the comments
Going to sound weird but going to one of my childhood friend's house
He had a loving family where everyone was happy and helped each other. They communicated with each other happily about things that interested them. They were unafraid to share what was on their minds and what they were passionate about. They asked each other to do things without threatening or screaming. When they did have disagreements they talked them out. They'd say, "I love you," without a hint of pain or irony.
It was jarring. It threw me off. I went over to his place a lot (like literally almost every day for the time were friends) and it wasn't until I had been going to his place for a few weeks did it dawn on me that I had never seen his parents argue.
And honestly one of the most eye opening experiences from when I was young about how a family is supposed to function.
I guess you could say it was culture shock because my relatives operated on a culture of fear, hatred, and a lack of love. The phrase, "You have to love me, I'm family," was uttered entirely too many times. Violence and the threat of violence was the only motivator my relatives used.
I was friends with that guy for 3 years. I'll never forget his parents telling me that they saw me as family. I'd say those years did more good for shaping who I am today than all the years I spent with my relatives. I look back fondly on the time I spent with them. I wish it didn't end the way it did though.
I hope they're all doing well.
Sounds pretty similar to how my gf responded to my family. We don't always realize how lucky (or unlucky) we are.
I didn't realize how lucky I was to have my immediate family, my mother's extended family, and my husband's family. We get along well and can talk openly even about contentious or difficult issues. My mother and her sisters have showed an excellent way to structure a family, where each has specialized on certain areas: finance, technology, organization, etc. They all have a deep trust built up over a lifetime that they will work in the best interest of each family member.
As I got older, I started hearing people's experiences with terrible family situations, chiefly online. I also started to hear and see more of my dad's side of the family. Two individuals on that side have bipolar disorder. My grandmother's bipolar disorder destroyed her marriage to my grandfather and led to a messy divorce. The treatment that was given in those days likely did more harm than good. Then my uncle also has bipolar. His bipolar destroyed a marriage. Unfortunately, Switzerland where he moved to has old fashioned laws that allows one spouse (my uncle in this case) to drag their feet on a divorce.
There is also some distrust between other family members involving my grandfather's second wife splitting him from contact with his beloved sister and her family. Of the family I listed in the first paragraph, I simply cannot imagine any of them doing something that horrible. I would consider that intolerable in my own marriage, not that my husband would think to do so (he was friends with my husband in high school).
What happened? Sounds like you guys stopped being friends after 3 years.
Warning: This story is kinda hard to read as it details one of the shittiest moments of my life that ended up being the catalyst for years more of a shitty life. I have gotten back on my feet since but that wasn't until almost a decade after the fact.
My home life was falling apart around that time and eventually hit the point where we knew we were going to be homeless.
I asked his parents first if it would be ok if I stayed with them while I finished highschool and tried to get on my feet and they said it would be fine. I asked his parents first so he wouldn't have to be put in a position of having to tell me that I couldn't stay with them.
I then asked him if he was ok with it and he said that it would be cool and he just had to check with his parents. I told him I had already asked them and told him why I asked them first. He seemed surprised but understanding.
When the day finally came a couple weeks later I called them up and no one answered.
I walked to their house and no one was there.
I eventually left them a message on their answering machine saying that I tried to come by but no one was home and that I'd greatly appreciate a call back as today was the day we had discussed.
I walked to the library to hang out there that afternoon. And to sleep on the bench behind their building that night.
I couch surfed for a couple weeks with acquaintances and was reaching out to other people I knew hoping someone would let me stay with them for awhile and no one would or could.
Eventually he called me and I knew I was on speaker phone and he accused me of stealing from them. I told him that I'd never steel from them as the were more family to me than my actual relatives. He didn't listen and said that that's why they hadn't reached out as they were trying to figure out everything that I had stolen. His parents then said that they were disappointed in me and that they never wanted to see me again.
I ended up being homeless for 8 years after that as no one I knew could or would help me. Not even my relatives would help me.
He was my best friend for 3 years, and his lie made my life that much harder for almost a decade.
Edit: To clarify a point, I asked his parents first because if they said no I wasn't going to ask him and put him in that position of having the guilt of having to tell me that I couldn't stay with them. Also in the conversation with his parents I had told them that I had already asked my relatives if I could stay with them while I tried to get on my feet and they had already turned me down. My grandma even said, "God has a plan for everyone, and sometimes that plan can be hard to deal with for a time."
What the fuck?
Did you ever talk to these people again?
What a bunch of assholes.