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“I can’t tolerate this anymore. It’s taking a toll on my physical health.” These were the last words I wrote to my biological father regarding his mother, my grandmother.
As I sit in bed, typing this blog, I glance at my phone and see a missed call and voicemail from my grandmother. The same woman who, for most of my life, has been emotionally unstable—whether she realized it or not.
Can you imagine not wanting to talk to your 92-year-old grandmother because it’s taking a toll on your mental, emotional, and physical health? It’s a tough pill to swallow, but one that I’ve had to face.
On what planet does a psychosis-inducing sweet 92-year-old grandmother exist? Surely not on Earth.
But, for me, that’s exactly who my grandmother was.
It took me years to understand that my family dynamics were far from healthy. On the surface, my grandmother appeared to be the perfect grandmother—thoughtful, nurturing, and always providing a beautiful garden and lavish holiday meals. But beneath that picture-perfect exterior was a woman who excelled in manipulation and emotional abuse. She showed you only what she wanted you to see, leaving you to believe that everything was just fine.
But there were secrets—deep family secrets—that she would rather take to the grave than confront. Secrets I may never fully uncover, no matter how many times I tried to dig for answers. Perhaps these secrets are darker and more horrifying than I could ever imagine.
As the years went on, more stories emerged, painting a clearer picture of who my grandmother really was. These weren’t the sweet bedtime stories I grew up hearing.
According to my father, my grandmother had been frequently battered by my grandfather. I learned that my father and uncle, raised in the same home, were treated very differently. My uncle was the “golden child,” the one who could do no wrong, while my father was the “scapegoat,” bearing the brunt of my grandmother’s emotional abuse.
It wasn’t until I started studying family dynamics in my graduate program in Clinical Mental Health Counseling that I realized just how toxic their environment was. The emotional wounds my father carried weren’t simply the result of random bad luck—they were the result of a deeply dysfunctional family system. Understanding this gave me new compassion for my father and, oddly enough, made the transgressions against my mother and me feel more tolerable.
Still, I often find myself asking, “Would I have done the same thing?” A question that still lingers as I process my own trauma.
But when it comes to my grandmother, the stories just keep coming. I’ve heard how she used to wander the house at night, emotionally unstable, holding a loaded gun in front of my traumatized father. I’ve heard that when my uncle first married, she would call at all hours of the night, demanding his attention. To this day, my uncle speaks to her daily, enabling her toxic behavior to continue, unchecked.
I’ve had similar experiences. She’d call me, accusing me of intentionally hurting her feelings. More than once, she guilt-tripped me, making me second-guess myself when I was already struggling with self-doubt, particularly as a childhood sexual abuse survivor. These guilt trips robbed me of the confidence I needed to pursue my dreams, and kept me from reaching my full potential.
Now, at 36 years old, as a graduate student in Clinical Mental Health Counseling, I’ve gained a clearer understanding of the familial influences that have held me back from creating the life I deserve. I’ve learned the importance of recognizing toxic family relationships and acknowledging their role in my personal trauma. It wasn’t just my grandmother’s emotional abuse; it was the narcissistic behavior that ran through the family system, poisoning everyone’s ability to live in emotional health.
I now understand the significance of healing from trauma, not only for my mental well-being but for my physical health as well. As I’ve come to terms with these realizations, I’ve learned that I can no longer allow toxic family dynamics to rule my life.
As much as we cherish family, the harsh reality is that the people closest to us can often be the ones who cause the most pain. This realization isn’t easy, but it is necessary.
Does that mean we have to tolerate the abuse? Absolutely not.
We don’t owe anyone our peace of mind or our well-being, especially if they’ve caused us deep emotional harm. Healing from trauma means setting boundaries, no longer tolerating toxic energy, and stepping into the life we deserve.
Once we step out in faith and with the confidence that we deserve better, we can confidently claim the peace and joy that have been waiting for us all along.
I no longer allow unwanted thoughts or energy into my life that I am not responsible for. I choose to prioritize my mental, emotional, and physical health, and you can too.
Repeat after me, “I am not responsible for anyone else’ healing but my own.”
Have you experienced emotional abuse in your family dynamics? Share your story in the comments below. Let’s create a community where we can support each other as we heal from toxic family relationships.
[…] Setting Boundaries and Letting GoSevering ties with toxic relationships, even family, was necessary for my growth. This included distancing myself from my narcissistic grandmother. […]
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