Letter 52 – It Rings Like Failure

Beautiful Child, 

One of the hardest things about being your parent was trying to get you to do things that you didn’t want to do. It was hard to guide you into being responsible or accountable for anything. You wouldn’t do it. You resisted, hard. I always felt that you wanted all the freedoms that age brings on but none of the responsibilities of growing up.

You never wanted to do chores. Getting you to do a chore was like pulling an axe out of dried concrete. So much work. You never folded. You never accepted that chores were a part of life. You never completed a chore without extreme resistance. Just clean the kitchen already, okay? I would say. It Is normal for kids your age to take on chores. You’ve got to learn that these things are a part of everyday life. 

What you really wanted, was to be done for. To be served. To have things taken care of. Left to spend your time in the pursuit of your interests. We were frustrated at your unwillingness to help. Can you please just do as I ask? we’d say. Out came the lawyer in you, arguing all the reasons you shouldn’t have to do it. You simply wouldn’t wear the harness of everyday living.

We were worried for you. How is he going to exist in the world if he can’t do these things? How is he going to find a way if he can’t accept that these are the things people need to do in order to live? How is he going to find a way to take responsibility for his life? The older you got, the more difficult it became.

Occasionally there would be breakthroughs. You’d be contrite. You’d be helpful for a while. You’d take care of your things and clean your room. You’d be so glad when your room was clean. I feel so organized now, you’d say. I feel good. And then you’d drift away again, back into your personal spere.

You went through a very difficult stage that lasted for the rest of your life. You became jealous of your sister, and even the dog sometimes. How come you treat her this way and I get treated that way? You’d ask. Because she is six and you’re thirteen. Because she is eight and you’re fifteen. She is ten and you are seventeen. When you were six and eight and ten, you were treated in the exact same way. 

You didn’t believe that. You had no memory of it. You only saw that the expectations were different between an eight-year-old and a fifteen-year-old, a ten-year-old and a seventeen-year-old. You didn’t like it. You’re not ten anymore, I would tell you. You are seventeen. She is ten, and this is what she needs. You’re seventeen, and this is what you need. As you got older, you got more freedoms, but there are also different expectations for a seventeen-year-old than a ten-year old. You hated that. You wanted all the freedoms that age brought on, and none of the responsibilities. You wanted to be treated as both a young child and burgeoning adult, depending on the conditions. You wanted both of these things at the same time. 

But it doesn’t work like that. It can’t work like that, and we became more and more concerned.

Throw a therapist in, anywhere in this story. They were there, but nothing came of it. You didn’t connect, or they didn’t, and for that I will always be regretful. Why couldn’t we get you the help you needed? Why couldn’t we find someone to help guide you through these difficult times? Why couldn’t we help you through to the other side of childhood? Why? We did the best we could, Garrett, but it rings like failure.