Raised to be a Boarderline

Don’t recognize your child’s needs,

or at the very least see them as

secondary to your own.

Ignore your child’s tears;

tell them to buck up.

Better yet,

tell them if they don’t stop crying

you’ll give them something to cry about.

That outta teach ’em.

Weigh them down with adult demands.

Expect them to cook dinner

at nine years old

because you’ll be home late.

Force them to grow up too fast,

or don’t allow them to grow up at all

because in a child’s dependent role

is where you can control them.

Don’t be consistent,

with anything.

Change your values like you change your sex partners.

Swear off drinking one day only to get a DUI the next.

And when you discipline

do so arbitrarily and explosively;

base it on your feelings rather than your child’s actions.

When they spill their drink on the floor

and look to you for a reaction,

don’t tell them, “It’s alright, honey, it was just an accident.”

Yell at them. Call them clumsy and dumb.

Play the martyr by shoving in their face

how you work so hard

and are always so tired

and they’re so ungrateful.

Slap them for good measure.

Keep them confused and vigilant,

wondering which version of you

they’ll get at any given moment.

Physically

and/or verbally

and/or sexually

abuse them.

Treat them like self-gratifying objects

instead of autonomous individuals.

Use them to mitigate your own emptiness.

Make them carry your baggage

on their little shoulders.

And above all

never convey their intrinsic lovability.

Pound down their self-esteem

with your ceaseless criticisms.

Instill abandonment fears

by your lack of presence.

Teach them that your love is earned,

not freely given,

and keep them climbing that never-peaking mountain,

blaming themselves

and clinging to the false hope that if they

climb a little higher,

do a little better,

they’ll reach your approval.

Never let them succeed.