When I was about 13 I got into a deep-feelings conversation with my mom and then she started talking about how hard it was having enormous breasts and I after that I just stopped speaking to everyone.

I never really had a good relationship with my parents. I’m a first child, so they were literally learning the ropes with me, and being neurodivergent without appropriate early diagnosis and treatment… there was some major disconnect. Sure I was a “gifted” kid, but at every step they tried to force their own vision onto me, and thanks to that disconnect, I never had that truly supporting parentage. It was a constant barrage of high expectations with major punishments outlined if I didn’t meet those, and given the disconnect, the only time I felt “loved” was when they’d provide me with certain things - but all those things were tied to expectations.

A great example for this is my first computer. I needed one, for studies, for chasing my own interests, and finally I was allowed to buy one from my own money at the end of 8th grade, if my graduation average was above a specific (incredibly high, think 16-18 subjects, graded 1 to 5 where 5 is best, my average had to be above 4.5), and if I managed to get certified in my chosen secondary language at a B level (A is conversational, B is professional/daily, C is for official translation work).

This plus my parents rarely expressing emotions beyond anger was… not exactly helpful in my emotional development.

Now, after a decade of living abroad, I’m trying to close that gap, but it’s not easy. My mother… I get along with her much better, but she’s got tons of trauma she refuses to see a therapist about, and instead is working herself to death in her 50s. The worst part is I can’t even talk her out of it, and both my brothers are blind to it.

My father is the harder nut to crack. He’s gone down the alt-right slide about ten years ago, and this intelligent man I grew up admiring has gone incredibly racist, xenophobic, illogical, in constant support of a kleptocratic government that literally took away all his savings and pension and is now giving him a pittance…

All in all it’s not easy but I’m doing my best to build a passable relationship with them.

When I was a kid, we always had dinner together. During dinner, there would be lots of conversations, not only about how school/the day went but about politics and ethics. My father was really good at talking about “adult stuff” in a kid compatibile way. Then my sibling and I started growing up and bringing our own conversation topics to the table.

My father died a while ago, and for a bit my relationship with my mother was a bit tense (anti-vaxer VS scientist). We silently decided to bury the hatchet and not talk about that topic. Our relationship had been improving ever since. I honestly deeply enjoy every evening in which the three of us can keep chatting into the night. Both me and my sibling moved away, so they happen rarely and are all the more cherished.

I didn’t have many big conversations with my parents, but we did have many little interactions throughout every day.

Now with my own kids, I find that I have just as many big conversations, but there aren’t as many small interactions. Everybody just has their devices and aside from sitting together at dinner, we don’t cross paths with each other as often.