The word parentified keeps coming to mind.
I thought about a girl I know whose mother was, well, not much of one.
I thought about another girl who has basically become the grandparents’ keeper because they adopted a bunch of high-needs children that only this girl is strong enough to lift.
And I even used it myself when a friend reached out to ask if I needed help and I started to say no. And I said you know what, that’s the parentified daughter in me that wanted to keep my privacy. The real me recognizes that accepting help from a good person is an act of bravery.
I wouldn’t say I was parentified in the traditional sense, of the eldest child (usually a daughter) taking care of younger siblings.
Didn’t have any, obviously.
But I do think the phrase applies to those of us who did have to answer the question, “Who’s the parent and who’s the child?” at times.
It really was a reflex, for me to automatically say to a friend, “Oh no, I don’t need help. I got this.”
I mean, I do have this. I’ve had it for 30-ish years.
But it would be nice to not HAVE to. And to have someone to call if, in fact, what I have is not enough for a situation.
The first girl I thought of, tried to get away. I don’t see that lasting.
The other, honestly I hope she does something for herself one of these days.
It’s times like this when I wonder who I would have been without knowing from age 16 on that my job would be to take care of everyone. Like my own momma did. You can absolutely be parentified when you are a parent yourself.
Honestly I don’t think I would have changed much.
But it still felt so natural to start to give Mom’s answer (no) before my Black Moon Lilith overrode that with a big old yes.
My point at which I break the rules is in Aquarius. Which tracks.
