Toxic Parents and Toxic Lovers

Once upon a time before I met Dr. J., I thought I'd marry some other man--and that "other man" wasn‘t one person but many ex-boyfriends I had. Ever since I started dating in high school, every time I got a new boyfriend, I'd be absolutely convinced that "this is the one" within two months and completely devote myself to him. I know it sounds insane and I did find it insane myself, but I just couldn't help it.

Nonetheless, all of my devotion was in vain; very few of my relationships lasted longer than three months, and I didn't get to settle down with Dr. J until I was 28. As time passed, all the memories of those guys I once thought I'd marry faded and eventually got lost.

Now, all I have is some fragmented memories of them. Like, I once dated this man who was 12 years older than me; he'd buy me designer bags and expensive cosmetics, chauffeur me to school and everywhere, and then he'd tell me that because he did this and that for me, I should do so and so in return. I obeyed him just like a concubine from Qing dynasty obeyed her emperor. But why didn't I end up marrying him? To be honest, I don't remember.

Another guy I dated was a straight-A student, extremely book smart, the kind of kid I've always wanted to become. I really hoped to be with him forever, but for some reason that I don't remember, we grew apart. On the day we finally broke up, he picked up his mom's deer-hunting rifle and pointed it at my head. To this day, I can still hear the clicking sound of a bullet being loaded, the thumping sound that I couldn't tell whether it was his or my heart beat. I really thought I was going to die.

But I didn't die; otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here and blogging about it now. That horrible day ended up like this: I bursted into tears, he let out a roar, and then put down the gun. I immediately ran out, started my car, and drove back to my dorm. I must have been driving like crazy because many cars honked at me along the way.

The incident had a long-lasting impact on me. I began to reflect on myself: Why did I always date some controlling freaks and even violent guys? How did I get that close to losing my life?

At that time, I started seeking professional help for mental health issues. Although the reason for me to see a therapist initially wasn't relationship-related, I got to clarify my relationship problems during the process.

"When you were a child," one day my therapist told me, "your parents, who were supposed to love you, threatened you and beat you. This can lead you to subconsciously associate love with violence."

Hearing that, I shook my head and cried, burying my face in my hands. I heard the therapist keep going, "Some are trapped in violent relationships and cannot extricate themselves; some become perpetrators themselves. But more overcome the difficulties. So don't be discouraged."

I did come from a family with serious violence issues. My parents would beat me up and threaten to beat me to death with a hammer. I was scared of them as a kid; hated them as a teenager. What I didn't realize was that I actually wanted to be loved by them so much and when I couldn't get love from them, I tried to get that kind of love from any random guy I happened to meet. I hoped that they could rescue me from the prison of a violent family, but instead I just put myself in another prison. And I never really escaped from my abusive parents--even after flying to the other side of the world to the States for school, my family-of-origin still haunted me like a curse, affecting my interpersonal relationships in every subtle way.

Later, I met Dr. J. With his full support and continuous professional help, I worked hard to overcome my problem and finally settled down with him.

Now I am the mother of two boys. I have never or will I ever hit them or yell at them. I learned from my own painful childhood experience that if I tell my children that I beat and/or scold them for their own good, I'd be teaching them to confuse violence with love. When they grow up, they will trust people who hurt them because those people behave just like their mother. Or, they will hurt the people they love because this was how their mother, who's supposed to love them the most, treated them.

Dr. J knows my journey very well, and he completely supports. I am really lucky. After going through such a miserable childhood and such chaotic teenage years, it feels almost too good to be true to have such a good partner and two lovely boys.

I still think of those boyfriends from my youth. I wonder, do some of them also have adverse childhood experiences that I was unaware of? Before receiving mental therapy, I was an extremely insecure girl with emotional ups and downs like a tsunami. Did I also make them suffer?

I want to thank each of them, for all the relationships that didn't work out gave me the opportunity to overcome the curse of my original family, to overcome my own weaknesses, and to become a better person. Because of that, I didn't end up being a toxic parent like my own parents, and I'm confident that my children will not grow up to be toxic lovers.

**This article was originally published on Commonwealth Parenting Magazine on July 22, 2018. This is an English translation, revised on July 29, 2024.