h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Having spent a week at home in the summer holidays, I now realise what went wrong with my life. My father, now aged 83, succeeded in making me (48) feel like a three-year-old. In hindsight, I could finally see that the criticism that I was subjected to all those years, and which I had only even been aware of since leaving home, was far more severe than I had ever realised.

Little comments mounted up and would have me seething with rage by lunchtime. Years of humility and resignation made me swallow it - or retreat to my room. There would be absolutely no point in saying anything. He does not understand.

My sister has brought it out into the open in the past and had correspondence with him about it. He just does not understand.

Things that remain branded into my memory, he has completely forgotten - to me they were life-changing and spiritually devastating - he doesn't even remember the events!

Even a neighbour (52) who was round for a beer one evening while we were over commented and made fun of his "Let me do the washing up" "No - the teabags don't go there", hitting the nail absolutely on the head.

The praise and expressions of pride in us which he did express when we were young seem, in retrospect, hollow, stilted, calculated - their effect negligible compared to the innumerable little "Let me do that"'s and "No not like that". In other words, or as woudl be interpreted by a child or offspring (which I am) "you can't do that" "your way's not the right way". These were the messages that we were getting, demoralising me and pounding my self-esteem to a useless piece of waste. My sister had a bit more fight in her. She got all that side of him, while still being aware of these totally unreasonable niggles of his.

One of the earliest lessons I learnt when I had kids was that there are more than one "right way"s. I sincerely hope that my kids haven't had their self-esteem ruined by petty criticisms.

But genes do play such an important role. Ironically, I can see myself exactly mirrored in these comments that hurt me so much. Which is why I have made such an effort to avoid them in bringing up my own children. But the lesson I have learned is as old as the hills: it's not what you say, but how you say it.

Every time I see my parents I realise it could be the last time, at their age, but the bitterness is just getting stronger and stronger and I go home more and more reluctantly, and can't hold out for more than three days. My sister never stays overnight - one mealtime is enough. As she lives in the same country, she can do that.

Apart from her, generally it seems that males are less affected by this generally, which is probably why my three boys have been resilient to any latent criticism that must have escaped from me occasionally. My mother has lived with this for nearly 60 years. She told me to answer back when I was really ready to burst. I wonder if she ever has. The replies I have heard her make have either sparked off a completely irrational response from him or have been misunderstood or not heard.

He is now more than a little deaf, and will ALWAYS ask my mother "what did Horace say?" (honestly!) when I say something he doesn't quite catch. When they stayed here, when they were up to driving over, he would criticise my cooking to her, never to my face. This implication that I am not able to speak for myself - coupled with the fact that I am being completely ignored at the time, although I am actually the subject of the conversation and am in the room, too - well, how would you react?

Why didn't I see it at the time? After all these years, the extent of the damage only really dawned on me last week. Despite the fact that we were given a nice home and were cared for and treated well, I can't believe that I stood that kind of abuse for so long - was oblivious to it.

Sorry to ramble on about it here. My husband has no idea - he doesn't understand enough of the subtleties of English to realise how this all hurts. Well, and of course, he's a fella, impervious to criticism.

Perhaps I should discuss it with my children, though - they have the same genes, and I know that lots of my father's quirks have definitely been passed on to my second son - coincidentially, also his namesake. They are both called Patrick. I have found generally that everyone called Patrick is difficult, at least all the ones I know here in Germany are, but that is not an objective point of view!

Sorry about the shocking title. It seemed apt at the time. And still does.

I've just been listening to a tape recorded by Jack Canfield (I think he wrote Chicken Soup for the Soul) and he said that in a study of 2 year olds in Iowa, they found the average number of negative things said to them in one day was 432 to 32 positive things. No wonder we grow up feeling we are defective.

Yes, why not talk to your children about it. I try to be positive with little , however I'm sure that if I measure my ' stop doing that's and 'why don't you do what I ask you to?'s against positive feedback, it would be overwhelmingly negative. Freshmen at UCLA were asked to write their positive and negative features down on a sheet of paper. They were six negatives for every positive.

Perhaps it would help if you could imagine that their expression of negativity actually reflects his own negativity, projected outwards. It's nothing to do with you; it's all to do with him. You are a mirror for him.

Maybe you could make a game of it - have a bingo card (a mental one maybe) and see how many times he says a certain thing.

I had real difficulties with people at work until I realised that it was more about them than about me.

I know the phrase, 'What did Horace say (Winnie)?'. It's from a radio series, although it was a bit before my time, so I can't remember which.

Can't comment about whether Patricks are all difficult.

My second name is Patrick.

But then, every second Irishman can say that. Are we all so sure of ourselves? You've met me, TC, and you know me. But I do try. I know the best way, but if somebody else knows a different way, that can be the best way too. I try to never tell my children how to do things, but the eldest one just looks at me blankly until I give her specific instructions. She's in a different world in her head and never concentrates on what's around her. I hope I haven't in the past brought this about by telling what to do too much.

It sounds like it's far too late to change your father, so just ignore him. Grin and bear it for the few days, then go back home to your own family in Germany. That is your home; that's the real you.

My wife couldn't believe how my mother kept me at her beck and call, even though I was a grown man and hadn't lived at home for years.

Her favourite phrase was 'I believe in calling a spade a spade.' Translation: I believe in being rude to people and embarassing them in public."

Her displays of affection were real, but precisely measured. Her favourite tactic - faint praise. - 'Oh you've nearly got that right.'

Men do hear criticism.

I heard a story on a tape yesterday about a man aged 45, whose 95 year old father was saying to him, 'Why don't you get yourself a proper job, be like (name), you'll never amount to nothing, all you are is a teacher. Get yourself a proper job.'

That man's father will never learn to be loving or to respect his son for his gifts. It's like trying to tell a brick wall, 'Be a Rolls Royce'.

And the criticism hurt like hell, until he realised that it was nothing to do with him. It was all to do with his father.

What effect did this criticism have on you, Mackay? I'm becoming more and more convinced that criticism makes men stronger and women weaker (possibly Z's example is an exception, but the story had a positive ending)

And also, the criticisms are very often justified, and expressed differently, or by a different person, or in a different tone, would be accepted as advice, or at least as alternative suggestions, but it's just the constant nagging that has worn my ego down to a cringeing nothing. If I disagree with one of my sons about the way something is done, I try and make a point of discussing the merits of both methods to arrive at an objective conclusion. It is really important that I speak to them about this, if it is only for the benefit of the children they will be bringing up themselves later in life.

Only over the last ten years have I realised that I don't have to take the comments from my bosses (women younger than myself in all cases) the way I do, and that I also have a right to an opinion and can even say something myself if necessary. This has been a very slow process and I keep having to tell myself that these people would probably have some respect for me if I let them; I certainly deserve some on the basis of age, experience and a certain amount of intelligence and common sense which I know I have.

Funnily enough, my husband is similar. Last night I borrowed the family benches and tables for a barbecue at work. You should have heard the fuss he made about getting the shot cords right and how the things had to be loaded on to the roof rack. Dammit I was driving and knew what I was carrying - I'm hardly going to take the corners at 100 kmh, and there were enough grown men there to load up for the return journey. Absolutely nothing happened, but instead of feeling inadequate because hubby thinks neither me nor anyone else is capable of strapping the tables to the car roof, I just laugh at him about it. What a difference! Why can't I laugh about my father? (Actually I do when talking to others about him, but I don't mean it deep down)

I'm going to start looking out for other examples of this - it gets a bit boring only thinking and talking about my own case.

It sounds as thought you have managed to get a bit of objectivity about your husband, TC and you haven't been able to do this yet with your father!

We take on stuff from our parents (hark at me speaking here!) that go very deep. As children, our parents are as gods to us, and what they express about us goes very deep. It can take us a lifetime to purdle out what is true and what is untrue (our conditioning) - some people never do. There's no-one can make me inferior without my consent! This is at once frightening and comforting, because it means I have the power to do something about it.

If you can manage to find some of that marvelous humour you have to get distance on your father, it may make a huge difference. If you can get your mother to do the same, then you have a common bond and support system.

I wonder what messages your father got from his father. I found when I heard my mother's story - she grew up in a very dysfunctional family - it made it easier for me to understand why she was the way she was concerning me. It hasn't changed her, but it has made it so much easier for me to handle her and her criticisms. When I don't react, they tend to come less often.

Dear TC
I've got that T shirt, but I don't wear it any longer. I agree completely with Gnomon in post 4.
My father was of the generation that never, ever complimented his children or his wife. "Well, I must love her - I'm still with her after nearly 60 years" was the unspoken attitude, but he never said so. He thought it was funny to criticise or to make little comments like "Do you want a cup of coffee? Well, you're old enough and ugly enough to make it yourself" in case I got big-headed, especially when I got to university.
When I was younger I thought my childhood was idyllic and certainly there was always a hug if needed, but now I can see how long it took me to think I was an interesting, good(ish) person and even quite good looking. Now I'm an opinionated old biddy, but I've always told my sons how proud I am of them and how much I love them and I think they've escaped this particular inheritance. I'm sure your boys will too.
My mother didn't criticise in quite the same way, but in my thirties I was still being told how to hang out the washing. I didn't visit them for the last few years of their lives, and I have no regrets, except that the boys didn't really know their grandparents. But by that time both my parents had become bitter, jealous, mean-spirited people and I'd prefer to remember them from earlier years when there was a lot of laughter about. This possibly wouldn't work for you, but try and remember it's their problem - not yours.

It made me put on a front os being strong and capable. I reacted to any criticism strongly and aggressively. I had such low self-esteem that I felt I was unlovable - obviously if I was such a failure how could anyone love me ?

Of course to the outside world I was ultra confident, but it was a shell.

Took the love of a good woman and 15 years to sort it out. Guess we just don't know until we walk in the shoes what any of us are like, inside.

"Well, and of course, he's a fella, impervious to criticism"



Thanks, TC

I still feel 15 years old when I go visit my parents, only now my mother is a loved friend, but my Dad, there's no pleasing him.
Yet still I try, and I fail.

This seems to really be a subject that affects lots of you. The awful thing is that I only really recently came to realise the extent of it. And Wandrin 's comment showed me that it's the little niggles that sound like normal conversation to an outsider which burrow themselves into your consciousness.

In my case it was "Fancy our girl being able to have children" (when I had my first child at the age of 27!) On the face of it - and probably even on all levels - this was just "O God am I so old that my children are now having children". Which is understandable, and, as Zarquon has said, a comment relating entirely to himself, and nothing to do with me directly.

But, over the years, I have lived with the feeling that he doesn't consider me even capable of basic human functions. Which, after a while, germinates a sense of doubt in it myself. Now how basic can you get?

I wouldn't worry, TC, i was 42 when I had little ! At their root, you may find at most of his criticisms have to do with him, not you.

This is one of my favourite quotes about this:

'You can tell more about a person by what he says about others than you can by what others say about him.'

I have been following GB's loss of her father and how much she misses him. In fact, I mourn him as much as anyone here, after all she has written about him over the years. When my father dies, I shall probably just feel relief, mixed with the anger at the situations I have described in this thread.

I can't believe that this thread is so OLD! - 2003! - that's four years ago! I think about it every day.

Yes I too followed GB's story about her much loved father and wondered if she felt that he had in any way come to appreciate her more before he died.
I think that out parents can't really take the blame after we're 40 although their attitudes had so much effect on us, but it took years of hard work to get out from under mine. The first 10 years after my husband left us were made more difficult by the thought that my parents didn't approve of anything I did and didn't offer any support. (Dear TC, you know you always have MY support if it helps in any way)
I am extremely careful not to criticise my sons (they're adults now anyway)