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A question about parents.
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25 / F / Florida
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Posted 9/7/14
Do your parents tell you that you love? Or would they rather show you that they love you in their actions? This is a touchy topic for me because I have one parent that shows their love for me in their actions. Sometimes its hard to deal with. So I wonder if anyone else goes through the same thing I go through. I don't know, I think I'm just rambling here lol I'm not depressed if anyone is wondering.
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Posted 9/7/14 , edited 9/7/14
My father is a manly man. He rather show his affections thru action... with a leather belt.

I like this quote:


onibrotonel wrote:



Malcolm in the Middle's last episode speech:

Malcolm: [furious] You know what? I'm glad. This is appropriate! Now my life looks exactly how I feel! How could you screw me over like that?!
Lois: Because you were going to take that job, and we are not going to let you throw your life away!
Malcolm: How is being rich throwing my life away?!
Lois: Because it's not the life you're supposed to have! The life you're supposed to have is you go to Harvard, and you earn every fellowship and internship they have! You graduate first in your class and you start working in public service- either district attorney or running some foundation- and then you become Governor of a mid-size state and then you become President.
Malcolm: What?!
Lois: Of the United States.
Malcolm: Dad...!
Hal: I'm sorry, son. It's true. [Malcolm looks at his brothers, who all nod in agreement]
Francis: Thought you knew.
Hal: Our expectations started out much smaller, but you just kept upping the ante.
Malcolm: What if I don't want to be President?!
Lois: It's too late for that, you're gonna do it!
Malcolm: [sarcastic] Really?! Have you decided my position of capital gains tax cuts?! What are my foreign policy objectives?!
Lois: That doesn't matter. What does matters is that you will be the only person in that position who will ever give a crap about people like us! We've been getting the short end of the stick for thousands of years and I, for one, am sick of it! Now you are going to be President, mister, and that's the end of it!
Malcolm: Did it ever occur to you that I could have taken this job, gotten really rich and bought my way into being President?!
Lois: Of course it did. We decided against it.
Malcolm: WHAT?!
Lois: Because then you wouldn't be a good President. You wouldn't have suffered enough.
Malcolm: I've been suffering all my life!
Lois: I'm sorry, but it's not enough. You know what it's like to be poor and you know what it's like to work hard. Now you're going to learn what it's like to sweep floors and bust your ass and accomplish twice as much as all the kids around you. And it won't mean anything because they will still look down on you, and you will want so much for them to like you and they just won't. And that'll break your heart, and that'll make your heart bigger and open your eyes, and finally you will realize that there's more to life than proving you're the smartest person in the world! I'm sorry, Malcolm, but you don't get the easy path. You don't get to just have fun and be rich and live the life of luxury.
Hal: That's Dewey.
Dewey: [gleeful] Really?
Malcolm: This is unbelievable! You actually expect me to become President?! No, no, I'm sorry- you expect me to be one of the greatest Presidents in the history of the United States!
Lois: You look me in the eye and tell me you can't do it. [Malcolm can only stand in silence]


Posted 9/7/14

onibrotonel wrote:

I like this quote:


Malcolm in the Middle's last episode speech:
Lois: Because then you wouldn't be a good President. You wouldn't have suffered enough.




lmao, Lois was my fav.
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Posted 9/7/14
My dad shows it I guess.

My mum tells me occasionally and shows it through her actions too.

It's not all about love, though. There are a few arguments here and there too.
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Posted 9/7/14 , edited 9/7/14
My family came to the states when I was a toddler. They, my parents, were raised harshly before having me. As my sister and I grew up, my mother would express her love through words and sometimes actions. She loved us and cared deeply for us, but she always had trouble showing it. Both of my parents would usually give my sister and me materialistic things to show their love. This only briefly worked when we were kids. My father was always at work and could never spend too much time with us. He was also terrible at expressing his love for us, which is probably why my sister and I stayed with our mother after their divorce. As I grew older, I grew tired of hearing my mother tell me one thing and unable to do the other. I then left her and my sister and moved in with my father. He helped me get through high school after I ran into some trouble with the law. Before I had graduated high school, he and I got into a fierce argument about what I would do when I turned 18. Furious at him, I denied him tickets and the information to see me graduate. You should have seen how devastated he was. I was unable to see his sadness masked within his anger and assumed he was just controlling and invasive. I left the house a couple of months later and went to live on my own. Many years had passed and I ended up living in Japan for a couple of years. I arrived at the airport at 1 AM, only to find he was happily waiting for me at the airport. He was still not adept at telling me he loved me but I could see it more clearly now with his actions. He still encourages me to work hard and provides me with meals and a place to stay. In return, all he asks is that I don't give up.

I'm 22 now and I look up to him more than ever. I'm living by myself and making a good name for my family. I don't have a college degree but am making ample money to sustain myself. Soon, I will be taking college courses and work towards m y BS. I understand now that although words are very influential, if your actions do not reflect the teachings you wish others to uphold, what kind of a person are you? I love my father for helping and supporting me. I love my mother ONLY because she is my mother. Harsh as it may seem, she will not garner the same respect I have for my father because of how she carries herself: in debt, always moving from place to place, unable to hold a job, unwilling to better herself. Don't get me wrong, I will come to her aid if she is ever in trouble, but I will not sacrifice my entire existence just to please her and have her crawling back into the same depths.

Hope any of that helps. c:
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24 / F / Las Vegas nevada
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Posted 9/7/14 , edited 9/7/14
Their not one of those people who say I love you to their children.. They'd rather show it instead..
Posted 9/7/14
Both my parents are very emotional people, so both.
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Posted 9/7/14 , edited 9/8/14

karyuikari wrote:

My family came to the states when I was a toddler. They, my parents, were raised harshly before having me. As my sister and I grew up, my mother would express her love through words and sometimes actions. She loved us and cared deeply for us, but she always had trouble showing it. Both of my parents would usually give my sister and me materialistic things to show their love. This only briefly worked when we were kids. My father was always at work and could never spend too much time with us. He was also terrible at expressing his love for us, which is probably why my sister and I stayed with our mother after their divorce. As I grew older, I grew tired of hearing my mother tell me one thing and unable to do the other. I then left her and my sister and moved in with my father. He helped me get through high school after I ran into some trouble with the law. Before I had graduated high school, he and I got into a fierce argument about what I would do when I turned 18. Furious at him, I denied him tickets and the information to see me graduate. You should have seen how devastated he was. I was unable to see his sadness masked within his anger and assumed he was just controlling and invasive. I left the house a couple of months later and went to live on my own. Many years had passed and I ended up living in Japan for a couple of years. I arrived at the airport at 1 AM, only to find he was happily waiting for me at the airport. He was still not adept at telling me he loved me but I could see it more clearly now with his actions. He still encourages me to work hard and provides me with meals and a place to stay. In return, all he asks is that I don't give up.

I'm 22 now and I look up to him more than ever. I'm living by myself and making a good name for my family. I don't have a college degree but am making ample money to sustain myself. Soon, I will be taking college courses and work towards m y BS. I understand now that although words are very influential, if your actions do not reflect the teachings you wish others to uphold, what kind of a person are you? I love my father for helping and supporting me. I love my mother ONLY because she is my mother. Harsh as it may seem, she will not garner the same respect I have for my father because of how she carries herself: in debt, always moving from place to place, unable to hold a job, unwilling to better herself. Don't get me wrong, I will come to her aid if she is ever in trouble, but I will not sacrifice my entire existence just to please her and have her crawling back into the same depths.

Hope any of that helps. c:


Wow, thanks for sharing your story. I'm also a child of divorce, so I know how that feels. That can be hard on any kid. I have a hard time talking about this issue because most of the friends I know, don't go through this. So I thought that they could never understand my pain. After reading what you wrote it gave me some hope. Maybe I'll be able to deal with my problem to later in the future. I found your story to be comforting somehow, so thanks. :)

I know I'm not one to talk but maybe you and your mom will find something that will connect the both of you, not just because shes your mom. You never know what might happen.
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Posted 9/8/14 , edited 9/8/14

karyuikari wrote:

My family came to the states when I was a toddler. They, my parents, were raised harshly before having me. As my sister and I grew up, my mother would express her love through words and sometimes actions. She loved us and cared deeply for us, but she always had trouble showing it. Both of my parents would usually give my sister and me materialistic things to show their love. This only briefly worked when we were kids. My father was always at work and could never spend too much time with us. He was also terrible at expressing his love for us, which is probably why my sister and I stayed with our mother after their divorce. As I grew older, I grew tired of hearing my mother tell me one thing and unable to do the other. I then left her and my sister and moved in with my father. He helped me get through high school after I ran into some trouble with the law. Before I had graduated high school, he and I got into a fierce argument about what I would do when I turned 18. Furious at him, I denied him tickets and the information to see me graduate. You should have seen how devastated he was. I was unable to see his sadness masked within his anger and assumed he was just controlling and invasive. I left the house a couple of months later and went to live on my own. Many years had passed and I ended up living in Japan for a couple of years. I arrived at the airport at 1 AM, only to find he was happily waiting for me at the airport. He was still not adept at telling me he loved me but I could see it more clearly now with his actions. He still encourages me to work hard and provides me with meals and a place to stay. In return, all he asks is that I don't give up.

I'm 22 now and I look up to him more than ever. I'm living by myself and making a good name for my family. I don't have a college degree but am making ample money to sustain myself. Soon, I will be taking college courses and work towards m y BS. I understand now that although words are very influential, if your actions do not reflect the teachings you wish others to uphold, what kind of a person are you? I love my father for helping and supporting me. I love my mother ONLY because she is my mother. Harsh as it may seem, she will not garner the same respect I have for my father because of how she carries herself: in debt, always moving from place to place, unable to hold a job, unwilling to better herself. Don't get me wrong, I will come to her aid if she is ever in trouble, but I will not sacrifice my entire existence just to please her and have her crawling back into the same depths.

Hope any of that helps. c:


Very moving. Good for you, man.

It's our life experiences that help us grow. I haven't had the best history with my parents, but that's on me, not them. Although, for the past 4-5 years or so, everything has been wonderful. The adolescent years were rough though (as I would imagine they are in most households)

I think most parents want to see their beliefs and lifestyles reflected in the lives of their children. I'd say you're doing a pretty good job.
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Posted 9/8/14 , edited 9/8/14
My mom annoys me immensely because she doesn't understand the way my mind works (I have Asperger's) but I know she loves me, she shows me all the time, and does say it.

My father on the other hand... They divorced when I was 5, but we moved out when I was 4. He was stationed in England, and lying about his shifts among other things, so mom took me and left. We moved in with my grandparents. Part of the deal with the divorce and custody agreement was that he called once a week on Sunday and paid child support as well as half of my medical bills. If I was to visit, he would pay my way there and mom would pay the way back. (The one time I visited him when I was too young to fly alone, my great grandmother flew with me).

At the beginning, he called every Sunday, occasionally he'd miss, but that was okay. We were 6 hours behind his time after all. Eventually it dwindled down to once a month. I'm not sure why. When I was 6, I told him I had no friends but I was okay with that and I think I actually barely mentioned it before babbling on about what had been going on in school. At the end of the call, he asked to talk to mom, and yelled at her because I didn't have friends, as if it was her fault. It wasn't. I loved my mom and my life fiercely, and so of course took offense to that. I stopped confiding in him so much.

But one of the things that really started destroying my relationship with him... was when I had gone to England for a month to visit him. It was 2001, and I was 7 years old, and it was summer. I was so happy, it didn't really hit me that I was missing my mom's birthday, and I didn't much care I was missing the fourth of July (I didn't realize it was only an American holiday), but I worked hard on my 4-H projects for the county fair. Because of visiting my father, I missed presenting them, and that's why I only visited him once after that. I refused to lose out on earning those ribbons.

Things went pretty well, but there were some things that were just plain... wrong. I had a step-mom and step-brother at that point. She was pregnant. They had toys for me, a nice room all set up. I enjoyed my time there, for the most part. However, I knew i had to take my claritin tablets every night for my allergies (mold and dust), but my father didn't let me have any access to them, and forgot to give them to me half the nights I was there. Yet, at home, they were always on my bookshelves, and I was encouraged to learn to take them before bed, but only one tablet, which I followed. I was a rather smart 7 year old. Anyways, other 'bad' things. Him and my stepmom smoked. A lot. In the house, though apparently keeping the windows open made it okay (and yes I already said she was pregnant. She didn't care).

One time my step-brother and I (he was 4) were rather stupid. There was a blow-up bouncy mini castle in the backyard. We stacked things on top of each other and jumped on it. We did this for hours (and days I think) and no one was the wiser, but then suddenly they found out and were steaming mad. I made things worse for me, and all I remember is sitting in my room and watching my dad yell furiously and rather scarily at my step-brother about picking up the mess. I'm not sure what our punishments would've been, but we made them worse. We had the audacity to make a mess of the bathroom that night. We were left alone, and thought we were making a masterpiece of art in the sink, including a lot of toothpaste. I think it may have started because I resented how angry my father was about what we did when I had thought it was perfectly okay. We ended up being confined to our rooms the next day (a punishment I've always equated with Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, which mom read to me that fall, I'm not sure why when it wasn't nearly so severe). Looking back, I wonder why we were left unsupervised in the backyard for so long. A 7 year old and a not quite 4 year old... brilliant parenting there, we got away with it for hours and possibly days yet we made no efforts to hide that we were climbing things and then jumping. And then they left us alone in the bathroom to get ready for bed. Recipe for disaster much?

But the biggest thing that put a strain on our relationship when I was 7... He got tired of me chewing on my hair. I honestly never did it on purpose, it would just find its way into my mouth (probably the same way a pen does when I'm writing). He decided that my hair had to be cut to make it too short to do that. I knew mom loved my long hair so I told him he had to get permission from her. When it came the day of getting my hair cut, he told me he had. So I let them cut my hair. When I got home... We were picked up at the airport, mom wasn't with. I was super excited to see her. I will never forget her reaction to seeing me. We came in the door, she ran up the stairs. One look... and she was in tears running back down to her room. I didn't understand why, dad had gotten permission to cut my hair, right? Wrong. He'd lied. I've always been sensitive to other peoples emotions, and the one thing I hated above all else was seeing my mom cry, and he made that happen. I don't think I ever managed to forgive him for that.

Being around all that smoke and not taking my claritin as often as I was supposed to, meant that I came home with bronchitis. I came down with it a lot from then until a few years ago. I'd get bronchitis just from inhaling too much cigarette smoke on accident. I'd get it without even having a cold first, and having a cold guaranteed I'd have it if we didn't treat the cold as soon as it appeared. My father wasn't happy and apparently they were going to try for custody because they thought they'd do a better job of keeping me healthy. Not sure if they ever pushed or not, it'd been about a year after I visited that they were doing that.

Other problems included, feeding me no healthy foods when it was just him and me the only other time I visited him (this time in Arizona, I was 10). Two weeks of nothing but fatty foods and fast food... nothing truly healthy... and I had gained a bit of weight by the time I came home. He got angry over the littlest of things, and I was always terrified he'd hit me. Then there was also the fact that he liked having me sleep in his bed with him like when I was little... but that made me really uncomfortable (which he ignored) because my elementary school had given the basics of puberty just before school let out just two months before. I thought just sharing a bed with him meant I could get pregnant, and I still wonder to this day if he did anything while I was sleeping, touching wise anyways.

As I got older, we drifted apart. I had less to say to him. It was a combination of being one of the smartest in my class and him acting like he's a dumb jock, as well as being scared that anything I'd say would make him yell at my mom and blame her for some perceived wrong. Our calls became awkward. And less frequent. Until they stopped happening at all. The final straw though came when he started forgetting my birthday and then coming up with half-assed excuses about why a month later he still hadn't said anything. I just wanted an email or a call saying 'happy birthday' nothing more. Yet he couldn't even do that. When I decided I wanted nothing to do with him and wanted to change my last name (I ended up waiting until I turned 18, but I graduated high school with mom's name not his), he told me that he didn't call me or email me that often because he thought I didn't want to talk to him. BS. I wanted some positive relationship with him, I wanted him to say he loved me and mean it... yet the only reason it seemed like I didn't want to talk to him was because I was always on eggshells with him.

Since my 18th birthday, I haven't heard from him. Even though I invited him to my graduation. I suppose now that I'm an adult, it should fall to me to keep up communication. Well, I fail at communication for one... and for the other... I don't see why I should when he never tried for me. And part of me is still that 10 year old girl wondering if he was doing something 'wrong'. Wondering if the next time I see him, he would hit me. Heck, for a while I even fantasied he would the next time I saw him just so he would end up in jail and I didn't have to deal with him anymore! (I was 15 or younger in my defense). He's dealt massive hurt to me, and done nothing to heal it in the end. I probably will invite him to my wedding, but he won't be the one walking me down the isle. It will be my grandpa or my godfather (my dad's uncle) who do so. They were more fathers to me than he ever was.

I've tried to have communication with my half-sister, (she's nearly 13 now), and last year I sent her a birthday gift she loved, so I have a tentative relationship there.

In the end... I find that a combination of words and actions are perfect. Aside from my father, everyone in my family... we hug each other hello and good bye, we tell each other that we love them, we get thoughtful gifts instead of generic ones... It's the little things that show love, though it is good to have actions supplemented with confirmation via words and vice versa. But everyone is different. While most people in my family are huggers and even cuddlers, my cousin hates hugs and touchy feely things. It can be amusing, but sometimes, especially when I was younger, it was rather hurtful to be rejected from a hug.

For the OP, I think it would be best if you tried to talk it out with your parents about what you're getting out of their words and actions, and ask them what they're trying for and try to come up with a solution that's best for all of you.
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Posted 9/8/14

severticas wrote:


onibrotonel wrote:

I like this quote:


Malcolm in the Middle's last episode speech:
Lois: Because then you wouldn't be a good President. You wouldn't have suffered enough.




lmao, Lois was my fav.


Hal was my fav. I liked how he moped/grumpy/crybaby in that show.


That's why when he was in the recent movie Godzilla, I couldn't take him seriously being serious.
There was this moment in the movie where he had to close the vault in a hurry since a deadly gas was released.
Before he did it, he made this distorted face with a feminine wail. It was a serious moment but I just laughed off.
That face just reminded me of him in Malcolm in the Middle.

I know he's famous in Breaking Bad; but, sheesh, sorry, that face goes well in comedy.
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Posted 9/28/14
I think my old man shows more over protection than love... =.=

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Posted 11/1/14
I'll probably the oldest person whose perspective you will get on this question in this thread, just so's you know - I'm 41 now, and looking back, I can see now that my parents were unusually NOT affectionate in comparison with other peoples' parents. However, growing up, I didn't know that, so I didn't feel like I was missing out on anything.

This changed when I hit my teens, and my mother, in frustration at my unruly behavior - criminal in some cases - threw me out of her house. Since I was angry at my Father for making me go back to live with her in the first place, I didn't contact him when this happened (I think she believed that is what I would do), and I began living on my own, working at under the table jobs or making money outright illegally to pay my rent and bills. I have no shame about those days, since I never sold my body, and I managed to come out alright in the end.

Something I learned about people in general, however, is no matter how much lip service they give you, there's a reason the saying goes, "Actions speak louder than words." Because they do. It's also true that sometimes you need to say the little things like thank you or I'm sorry or I love you, because you should never assume anyone is telepathic, but for the most part, people remember what you DID over what you SAID.

I have one mantra that I live by, and it is Buddha's Fifth Remembrance:

My actions are my only true belongings
I cannot escape the consequences of my actions
My actions are the ground upon which I stand


I ask myself after I recite that mantra to myself: "How firm does the ground feel beneath my feet right now?"
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Posted 11/1/14
It'd be hard to notice if my parents didn't love me. They don't tell me they love me personally but I guess when they talk about me to other people they do.
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Posted 11/1/14 , edited 11/1/14
Look, I talk to my family almost never, maybe 2 times a month. And when I was growing up, my parents forgot my birthday a LOT.

A few examples:

When I turned 12, I wanted Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. It was all I had asked for. I walked by my parents' room the night of my birthday, and I overheard the start of an argument. My dad said "All you got him was a shirt?" and my mom saw me standing in her doorway. I kept going, my dad was mad. I went to my room and teared up and cursed my life where I had a quarter of the video games my friends had.

No lie, when I opened the gift, I saw the shirt, almost cried out loud, but picked it up anyway. Ocarina of Time fell out, my mom wrapped the cartridge in the shirt. Turned out my dad just had no idea what was going on that night, had seen my mom boxing up an old shirt of his at the same time I was walking by the room.

14, my dad said to me "your birthday is coming up." I told him "Yeah, it's tomorrow." He said "Oh, shit!" Long pause then. "I don't even have a card." I told him it was fine, I just wanted my learner's permit so I could start driving. Two weeks later, he took me for it even though my mom thought I should wait until I was 16.

On my seventeenth birthday, I was not excited because my mom had grounded me for two months and I was in the middle of it. She woke me up that morning instead of letting me wake up to my alarm like I always did. I asked her what she wanted, she said "It's your birthday!" I responded with "I know that!" She asked me "Why didn't you tell anybody!?!" Turned out she had woken up and just remembered. No gifts, no surprise, she was really just mad at me for not telling her.

I was confused growing up whether they loved me or not. But today, I don't care, because I love them. And I can't always be the son that answers the phone or is available to go over for dinner, and it makes my mom really sad and my dad starts worrying if I'm doing anything to advance my situation, and I don't care, because I love them whether it has anything to do with how I was raised or not.
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