When I was 9 or 10, my stepdad came to visit us before my mom and he were married.
My little sister, Gretchen, had just learned how to tie her shoes. I thought this was a big achievement and milestone. She was 5 or 6 and has Down syndrome. I was proud of her.
Stepdad leaned down to tie Gretchen’s shoelaces. I said, “she knows how to tie her shoes.”
He stood up, slammed the door, and went for a walk. That was my first encounter with his anger.
Would a reasonable person see this as a red flag?
I was told that he was being nice to Gretchen by tying her shoelaces. Was he nice to me?
It’s been a long time hasn’t it? I’m reaching out on my thank you tour (like an AA apology tour, I’m healing). Now, in my mid-40s, I’m starting to work through my childhood trauma.
I’ve come to realize that you are the only high school teacher who’s name I remember.
Thank you for seeing me at a time in my life when no one else had. I felt invisible. I felt like glass. You modeled to me how to be a woman, and that a thirst for knowledge should be encouraged. Thank you for seeing me.
You were exactly what I needed when I was 14. Nurturing, encouraging, and a woman I could look up to. You helped me feel comfortable as my weird little self. I hadn’t known that feeling before with an adult.
I made a super cool Barbie that you asked to keep. That was the first time anyone asked me if they could keep a piece of my art. It was such an honor to give it to you.
I don’t care if you remember me or not. It’s been over 25 years and you’ve had a thousand students over your career. I want you to know that you’ve made a positive impact on my life. Thank you.
I may be loved, but I’ve rarely felt loved by immediate family
I have to work on showing love without gift giving
It’s okay to ask for help. I needed help as a kid because I was a f-ing child. I need help now due to the interdependency of mutually beneficial relationships.
I don’t know how to receive love from my family of origin, except for my sister
I’m not used to physical touch, except from an intimate partner
I don’t know how to be a sibling to my other brother and sister
There is a phrase in the sibling community – glass child. We aren’t glass because we’re fragile, we’re glass because people look through us to the other child. They look through the strong, healthy child to the child who needs more support. As a result, glass children are extremely independent and mature. As a result, I don’t have as many childhood memories as my peers. Even though there was dinner on the table, I was emotionally neglected. But I have memories of you. I know people love me, but you’re one of the few adults in my life who made me feel unconditionally loved. You saw me. Me. You accepted me completely.
My favorite childhood memories are spending the night at your house, wearing footie pajamas and waking up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. Your home was nurturing. Your home was safe.
At your birthday, you said I was your favorite grandchild because I was the first, I made you a grandma. You always saw me, the first.
Thank you for seeing me and making me feel loved. We all know that I’m the oddball of the family, but you never judged me. You always accepted me as I am. Without conditions and without judgement.
You loved me without condition and made me feel that love.
I love you very much. Once again, thank you for sharing your love with me.
I survived childhood emotional neglect and verbal abuse. I am writing in hopes that this brings comfort to others survivors. I also identify as a glass child. I do not resent my sister. I don’t know how to feel about my parents.
My family history in a nutshell:
My parents married immediately after high school and I was born shortly thereafter. Four years later they had my sister with Down syndrome. Our parents divorced a year after Gretchen was born. Our dad remarried when Gretchen and I were 4 and 8 years old. Our stepmom had undiagnosed bipolar disorder. They both drank and used drugs. I became my sisters keeper in their house. When I was 10, our mom married a man with rage and anger issues. He had a 3 year old daughter from his second marriage. He was verbally abusive for the first 4 years of their marriage – until I finally learned to lock myself away in my room and never come out. I also become my sisters full time keeper.
When I am 14, our dad and stepmom have my half brother Chad. They are both still actively drinking and partying. At the age of 17, my stepmom overdoses and I call 911. That’s when I go low-contact with dad.
I continue to live at my moms (free rent) until I go away to college at the age of 21. I meet a nice man, we get married and divorced. I move to the PNW and find and marry a very patient and kind man who has a daughter.
At the age of 42, I finally realize that being a parentified child was neglect. I was neglected my entire childhood.
You are not alone. Even though I feel alone, I know that I’m not alone. I hope my words bring you comfort.
Anonymous Glass Child 