Family dynamicscan be complex, and everyone has at least one story of how problematic their parents or siblings can get. But some take things a few notches higher with how disturbing their situation can get.
A chunk of those people shared their experiences through answers to this Redditquestion: “What made you realize that there wassomething ‘off’about your family?”
This list has some of the best answers from the thread. Scroll through and see if any of these hit close to home.
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I was maybe 11 and my friend was supposed to spend the night at my house. I was a bit embarrassed because we could hear my family fighting, but I didn’t consider it a bad fight because the walls weren’t shaking and no one was throwing or breaking anything. She told me if I ever needed somewhere safe to stay that her mom would come get me and I could stay with them. I knew her mom wasn’t the most stable person in the world, but that woman took care of me from 11-18 any time I needed anything. I could probably call her now, years since I’ve last spoken to either of them, and she would still treat me like family.
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I went to a friend’s house after school one day, and her mum called us down for dinner. I was astonished that the whole family sat down at the table and ate together, and chatted and joked and laughed. They actually seemed to be ENJOYING each other’s company. There was no tension, no one was yelling or being sullen, no hint of threat in the air. Just a simple fun dinner. Apparently they did that every night! Shocking behaviour. I privately thought her family was really weird for that, but once I started making more friends, I began to realise it was MY family that was ‘weird’. ☹️.
Hearing from other kids how generous their parents were: Taking them to a pediatrician, giving them basic advice, caring about their feelings, helping them out when they were struggling… Then realizing all these things weren’t about going above and beyond but rather what normal parents do.
Lots of Abuse and neglect, living in filth, mice, roaches, if something broke, oh well. We had a broken window for years, it was ridiculous.My best friends mom used to have me bring my laundry on Friday nights in a pillow case, and she’d wash it for me for the next week of school. I used get PE as my last class on purpose so I could properly shower and wash my hair with actual shampoo, not Palmolive. My secret family made sure I had everything I needed from 12-17. Even bought my shark week supplies because my mom would buy the cheapest Kotex and cut them in half for me to use ( i was the only girl) .When it was health week at school and they passed out hygiene kits, I took everything i could and if my taken care of friends didn’t want theirs, I took those too.I left at 17 and never looked back. My dad was not as bad mom, yes neglectful, but he went thru alcoholism and worked A LOT, so we got left at home with the abuser. In did reconnect with him as an adult and they had divorced many years before that and he genuinely was a sweet man who changed his life and was so sorry.But about at 14, I even stopped eating anything from the house because everything was contaminated with roaches and grime. . I was big into sports, so was my bff, so her mom would always have a salad or sammich for me in the car, and always a capri sun and some fruit. I ate breakfast and lunch at school with the reduced lunch program that I signed myself up for.This was in the 80s and some relatives later told me that they called CPS a few times, but they only counted bedrooms and never once talked to me or my brother. CPS in the 80s, was a joke. I’m glad I was secretly adopted 😌.
When I heard a classmate’s mom tell my parents about how much she adored me and how much I lit the room up with my personality, and that she was glad I was friends with her daughter. I never heard anyone in my family speak with that level of positivity and depth about anyone, including family. I was confused as to why I could leave an impact on essentially a woman I interacted with in passing, but my parents couldn’t even remember what grade I was in.
The first afternoon I spent with my best friend’s and now partner’s family I was six years old, I fell and scraped my knee, as six-year-olds do. His dad rushed over and helped me up, telling me it’d be okay and that I was okay and that we’d go clean it up inside. I had never had an adult clean my cuts before, no one had ever taken care of me before, not since I was old enough to feed, dress and bathe myself. I realised then that my parents were supposed to take care of me.
When I travelled across the country and spent a few weeks with my partner’s family during Christmas. Honestly, it was the fact that when his brother forgot to bring the stuffing to Christmas dinner everyone reacted appropriately and in proportion to the situation. Nobody died…we just ate more of the potatoes. Sure there was some gentle teasing towards his brother for forgetting the ONE item he was in charge of but everything turned out just fine. It was such an appropriate response to such a small problem. In comparison, the preceding year at my family’s Christmas my uncle KICKED my mother because they had a disagreement (and I don’t even remember what it was about).There was obviously more to it than just this incident, but that’s the moment where it really hit me. Aaaaaand then I spiralled big time. I tried to break up with him because I fully planned to kill myself once I arrived back home. I thought there’s no coming back from this, my family and myself are so completely irredeemably WRONG that I don’t have any hope of being a functioning person, let alone part of a real FAMILY! What am I doing here, why am I wasting everyone’s time?It was a very dark moment, and nobody could figure out what was going on. But even though I seemed absolutely insane, everybody just…carried on and continued trying to include me. 5 years later…we’re still together (and I’m slightly less crazy!).
I had multiple moments like that but the one I still think about the most is actually ironically menial.I’m 30. Seven years ago I had already been in therapy for years to work through, amongst other things, the trauma my family’s abuse has caused. I had already been through the “Wait, other parents don’t beat their kids senseless?"-epiphany.But what broke me was my boyfriend’s mother telling me that “of course” she had used lactose-free products and “obviously” the dessert had no hazelnuts the second ever time she met me.Not once in all this time had it occured to me that I’m allowed to expect people not to feed me stuff that will literally put me in agony.Double awesome if you know my dad’s a doctor, my mom’s a nurse…
My father had an extremely bad temper. One time when I was 13 years old he picked me and my friend up from school and my dad was in a really bad mood. He started screaming at me for being too stupid to know something or other. I was used to it and totally silent. When I was with my friend later, he was in complete shock. I downplayed it and I told him it’s totally normal. He said “no, it’s not”. And, I never forgot that.
When I had to get a couple mandatory vaccines the summer before college because I had never had a single vaccine. (Anti-vax parents). I spent that entire summer getting 1 shot in each arm every week because I wanted to get all of them.
At school in the bathroom, maybe 4th grade, my elementary school best friend saw the welts and bruises across my legs from getting “whooped” with a belt and immediately took me down to the school office crying, called her mom and told her, and the office ladies were kind to me for the first time ever. My bf’s mom showed up to the school and I went home with them that day.
When I spent an afternoon at my friend’s house when I was about eight. Her dad randomly asked us if we wanted to do anything fun and he ended up teaching me how to play Monopoly and how to ride a bicycle. It was then that I realized that spending quality time with their kids is something that normal parents did. In our house my parents would never do anything with us during their free time outside of going to the mall and eating out.
When I was around at my best friend’s house and her dad happened to be there, he came in to say hello, my bf said something mildly cheeky to him and I held my breath and tensed up waiting for him to kick off… he just laughed and teased her back. I’d have been about 7. It was revelatory, and helped me keep my sanity until I could afford to leave home.
When I realized I didn’t wanna bring my friends or future partners around them because I was afraid my family would be mean to them.
I went to work as an Au Pair after university. I was shocked that people have family dinners and talk about how their day went and that children’s answers were taken seriously and not mocked or dismissed. I was shocked when the kids' dad went out of his study to ask his children “How are you?”. Iwas shocked that parents actually take kids to activities that their children like and not to those they, the parents like. I was shocked that you can have fun with your parents and have fun around them. Dance, sing, run and they won’t make fun of you. I was shocked to find out about movie nights for family. Like, parents actually watch a kids movie with children and don’t just turn on something they want to see.I was shocked when the dad did the majority of the cooking and not because the wife was not around but because he actually liked cooking. And that he was affectionate towards his wife. I was so shocked when he just randomly brought her flowers, when they cuddled on the coach.At first they seemed crazy, but then I realized it is my family who is not alright.
My mom brought me to an evangelical church multi-media show/“play” that simulated a school shooting (you then watch all the “heathen” children go to hell after they die) to ensure that I understood the gravity of hell and what not choosing Jesus as my savior meant for me.I was nine. Still have nightmares about it at age 31.Apparently other parents don’t do that. Huh! /s.
I think it was the first time I talked about what my house in California was like when I moved back to Florida as a preteen.Yeah, it turns out living in a hand made shack of plywood and plastic tarps on a man made jetty as part of a homeless colony in Northern California for a year is not a “typical” thing families do.Oddly enough, chopping up and burning your Christmas tree because it was the only fire wood available to you on said jetty 4 days after Christmas due to the fact that your parents abandoned their 7 year old and 2 toddlers under 3 to go “help” your dad’s brother with “cooking” is also not a universal experience and your 5th grade class and teacher will not think it’s a silly goofy story and have the most horrified looks on ALL of their faces.Yeah.My parents did a lot of questionable things whilst on mth. Like cook mth.
When I was told not to talk to my friends about certain things that happened home because “you don’t share everything with non family members” and “they won’t understand”.
The big, grown-up Uh-oh realization happened when my mother asked me and my siblings to lie about our identities and claim to be visiting cousins when CPS showed up. Oh and then when we fled the state. I was nine, definitely old enough to know that was bonkers.
When I was probably about 7 or 8 I realized that other families spent time together on vacation… like, they would go do activities together and their kids didn’t just spend time hanging out with staff or locked up in the hotel room. When I was a kid and we went on vacation, it was clear that it was my parents who were “on vacation”, we just got the privilege of tagging along. Our job was to spend as much time away from them as possible, and not need them for anything.… Then I realized other families also spent time together when they weren’t on vacation. Like, I never realized that other families went for walks, or played together, or played sports together etc outside of daily survival activities. I thought kids playing basketball with their dad was only a thing that happened in movies.
I realized my family was off when my mom encouraged my brother to join the street life, not for financial reasons, but genuinely just so she can brag (i don’t even know how it’s something to brag about but hey, ghetto communities.) that her son was out there “running s**t”. I only realized it was f****d because of the tv shows and movies I seen of the family n friends trying to get the main character to LEAVE the street life, not join it.
Therapy. Got introduced to the idea of narcissism and everything suddenly made so much sense.
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We grew up in the country and the cops knew our names and we knew theirs.
Thanksgiving 1998. My first memory of my paternal grandmother, is her telling me it’s okay that my father abuses me, because I chose to look like my mother to torment him (mom divorced Mr Hog that summer).I was only 4, but even I knew it wasn’t right.The following Easter, he kicked me out of the car because I refused to stop being sick, and drove off. He was abusive daily, frankly. But those actions showed that he felt that he was RIGHT to do it.They genuinely believed that I ‘started it’.
When my mom spent a couple days actually cleaning the house and coaching me on what to say and not say when CPS came to question me and my sister.
When I was at my friends' house and they just grabbed snacks from their pantry. The one at my house was always locked and we were not allowed to get anything out of it. Things would rot.
The day my mother insisted I go to the bank with her, I didn’t feel like going but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. I was 18, I accidentally slammed my thumb with the car door, it was bleeding and the nail was coming off so I got out to go take care of it and she was so angry that I wasn’t going after all that she burned rubber leaving. No concern about me whatsoever, then or later on. I didn’t have my keys though so I was locked out. I had to walk a mile to the neighbor’s for help with my thumb. When I told them what happened, the look of horror on their faces told me none of that was normal.
My mom saying my dad was dead when he wasn’t. Yes, really.Imagine my shock when I ran into him at the doctor’s office when I was eight along and the doc herself made damn sure (pre-hipaa) who tf that was, to my mom’s absolute fury.
My college friends called their parents every week, some more often than that. I always dreaded talking to my mother. It wasn’t until I started getting to know my ex husband, and then after I met his mom, that I realized how absolutely off my mother and my household was because of her. I remember being amazed at times that my friends could call their parents at any time about any problems and their parents would help them whereas if I had a problem I knew I’d dang well better solve it myself and that if my mother found out about it, there would be zero concern for my welfare, and I would have hell to pay for inconveniencing her. As an adult, I retained a relationship with my stepdad and slowly came to the realization that he would have helped me, but I know I still would have caught hell from my mother no matter what.I also realized as a young adult that my friends' parents knew and cared more about my life than my own mother did.
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Earliest memories of starting school and mom always threatening me to never tell anyone what happens at home. Every school assignment that involved telling about family and home life I either didn’t do or lied. Yeah it didn’t take me very long to realize how f****d up my life was growing up.
Middleschool friends confronted me about my parents being physically abusive toward me, citing it as why they did not want to come over to my house anymore. I argued that it was a totally normal thing and they were blowing it out of proportion. They told me none of their parents hit them.
I remember being jealous because all my friends had curfews. My parents would never notice if I didn’t come home. It felt like such a caring and lovely thought to think a parent expected a kid to be home at a certain time each night and would even sit up and wait for them to return.
In first grade when everyone else’s parents came to the end of day performances and my mom screamed at me and told me they were too busy. I never told them about another school performance and only ever asked to be dropped off for after school activities/games/performance’s if I couldn’t get a ride as I got older.Seeing other parents lovingly pack lunch, remember things my classmates needed for projects/school/sending them well prepared for weather. I was very young when I started to other myself, I was more mature than all my classmates, they just didn’t understand how to be grown. When in reality I was horribly neglected, I stopped asking for the things I needed very early because I knew I was going to get screamed at and punished.I worked as a nanny in my 20’s for several very loving families who cared and were invested in their kids day to day life and it furthered how uninterested my parents were in me and how ashamed they should be for their neglect. Thank god for my older sister who is 7 years my senior, she showed up and every single event she could for me until she moved away when I was in 5th grade.
3rd or 4th grade when I started spending a lot of time over at friends' houses. They all seemed to have very strange families. They did things as a group, laughed a lot, and actually seemed to enjoy each other’s company.I hope they got through their childhoods OK.
Oh, easy. When you’re sent to visit your family overseas one summer and you’re shocked to see that the mixed-race family next door is polite and lets you play video games with their kids, and your aunt doesn’t tell you off for playing with someone who isn’t white.
I didn’t know that most kids don’t cry nearly every morning before school every day of their entire school career. I was a failure of a student because I could never focus or pep up and do the work. I didn’t actually succeed until college, long after my parents kicked me out. I was such a stressed out kid. All because my mother would scream at me and hit me and tear my room apart nearly every morning.
When I was 8 my mom let me go to my friend Maria’s for sleepovers. Her mom would cook and Maria said she never had to cook dinner for her family. We got to be silly and talk at blockbuster and got to get candy for the movie we picked out. At her house we could stay up late and there were no consequences for sleeping in. I always thought their house was messy because her mom didn’t make her clean. I realized eventually that normal kids don’t have to cook and clean and take care of siblings. That that was actually the parents' job. Maria didn’t really have chores. She took music lessons and was in sports and we had Girl Scouts together so she didn’t have time to do all that and her mom understood.At my house the only way out of chores was getting a job. Which I did starting at age 12. Got a summer job detassling corn that I really loved.
Was shocking to realize none of the other 6 year olds were left at home, alone, all day long with just enough food to survive. I didn’t realize this when I was 6. I realized it somewhere in middle school when I was explaining this to some classmates and they were all shocked.
I felt a weight lifted whenever I spent time with other families.
When I was in elementary school and I would go to a friend’s house. Her parents and brothers were really nice to me. They never made fun of me or said hurtful things to me. Their dad never screamed at the top of his lungs if they made a mistake and never slapped any of their kids for asking a simple question. In general, whenever I went to her house, everyone was kind and pretty calm.
Whenever my aunt accused her own daughter of sleeping with her husband…who is also her daughters dad…I’m not sure what compelled her to think my cousin was sleeping with her own father, especially since she was just 16 years old at the time, but man am I happy I lost contact with that side of the family.
Other kids wanted us to go to their house, didn’t get yelled at in front of me, their parents would come out of their room to say hi and not call their kid to the room and loudly tell them to hide the valuables.
Looking at kids who were morbidly obese and thinking “I cannot imagine that non-stop hazing and abuse from that kid’s dad over his weight” and then learning that other kid’s parents didn’t constantly berate them and humiliate them over every detail of their appearance like that.
When I was proudly telling people that I was taking care of myself at age 6. Doing at least 30 or more chores every day. Home alone for 16 hours a day. (Truck drivers) yeah. Kinda made me think then!
When everyone else’s home smelled like laundry and food and my home smelled like alcohol and weed.
My girlfriends Dad just hugged her brother(his son) and said I love you big as he was leaving their house. We were all over for a casual dinner in the week. I’m almost 31. I knew I came from a broken home but it kinda struck a chord with me.
As an adult, some friends started sharing cute stories about getting mad and ‘running away from home’ as kids. Their moms would pack them sandwiches and play along until the kids just stopped being mad. I realized that I could never show anger or run away because I didn’t think my mom would let me come back.
When my family arrived at my aunt’s house, her family went from laughing and jovial to quiet and anxious.
Probably around when my dad kidnapped me.
What was perceived as tattle-telling and weak, was just my friends seeking help from their family.
Probably when we became homeless when I was around 5 or being teased about how I always wore the same clothes.
When I realised that in most families, 90% of them being alcoholics isn’t normal.
My uncle and aunt divorcing but planning to pretend to still be married because they didn’t want to tell my Grandma. I was in my 20s, my uncle and aunt were in their late 50s/early 60s.
My house is where every friend I had tried liquor, beer, weed, cigarette, dip, cigars, swords, guns, R&X rated movies and did all around bad things. My mom was never home, going out to party at the bar with her friends Every night. When she was home she was flipping her s**t like an unhinged raving lunatic, running late for something she all day to get ready for. Was Like a child, I grew up before she did.Most of those same friends had families that cooked and ate dinner together, did their home work and were in bed at decent hours due to parental supervision.
Knowing my dad and brother would go to strip clubs together and my brother would carry my drunk dad inside while my mom was at home and she would just accept it then my parents would go to church on Sunday. This happened a lot. My parents would get drunk at their friends house and pass out in their bathrooms hung over. Course who had to coddle them the next day, me. F-ing twats.
Was like oblivious to my parents relationship. Then when I was like13 they started randomly making a huge show of awkwardly chastely smooching in the hallway where my brother and I could clearly see it. A year later they were divorcing.Im guessing their therapist or something told them to attempt to maintain a sense of normalcy for us or to make public gestures to see if it helped, but obviously to no avail.I just remember being a kid and being like “why do my parents seem to like each other all of a sudden"They didn’t, but they tried to pretend they did. hm.
Hearing other folks tell their parents they loved them, and vice versa. I don’t think that my parents and I ever exchanged those words until I went to college. I love my family a lot but boy howdy are we repressed.
When I asked my middle school best friend why her mom didn’t like me and she said, ‘oh it’s not you, it’s your mom she hates!’.
When my little brother was appearing on the scene and I knew that I had to step up because there weren’t enough adults in the house to care for three kids, so the middle child was going to have to put in work to fill the gaps.
I think I just generally got the idea over time that it wasn’t normal for a daughter to come home to her mom reading a book naked on the couch (my mom called it “airing it out”), or that hand holding or kissing family into early teens was odd. No, there was absolutely no sexual abuse. Just a lot of openness about nudity, and an extention of forms of affection that are more socially accepted when someone is still a toddler.
Probably when I wouldn’t even see them or talk to them on any way unless it was a holiday. Outside of those occasions it was like they didn’t even exist.
I watched Full House as a kid. Every time the kids got I trouble the guardians would calmly talk to them and give out some sort of punishment. I always thought I wish my parents would be like that all they did was scream at me until I cried if I did something bad. It took me until my 30s to realize that Full house was 100% fictional. Parents did actually gently punish their kids.
The first time. (This was in the ‘80’s) We were doing a unit on the census so we filled out a census form. I knew I had a big family. But under “number of telephones in the home” mine was 14 the next highest was 6.
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