Your parents.

[Foxaèr]

I am in no mood to write an autobiography at the moment, so I hope you are fine with an outline.

Mom was 17, dad was a few years older when I was conceived.
When I was still a toddler, family moved from Maine to Florida.
Around age of six parents split, mom got custody.
Mom had a new man who was physically abusive to all of us except my younger sister who claimed sexual abuse.
Lived under bridges, ate out of dumpsters.
Was almost killed when my stepfather held my face against the mattress.
School intervened.
Foster home.
Biological father found us.
Left one hell to enter another.
Real dad is a verbally abusive alcoholic.
Years of verbal abuse pass, with one incidence of physical abuse.
I reach puberty and struggle with my sexuality, never sharing it with anyone.
After two years of struggling, I finally realize I am who I am.
Middle school is a bore.
High school is a bore as well.
I cannot remember the precise chronicle of these events: (dad meets a woman and marries her, I tell my step mother I am gay, I tell my sister I am gay, I tell my best friend I am gay, my sign language teacher recommends me to a school counselor who secretly councils gay students, my best friend convinces me to attend church, I become a fundamentalist christian)
I leave home for college.
Now you all know how I evolved a thick skin.

[Thumpalumpacus]

My mother has always been warm and supportive, and I'm lucky to count her as one of my best friends. She's always been there when the chips are down and I damned well try to do the same for her.

My biological father was a shitbag. Mom left him when I was 3; he was a wife-beater and she had better things to do. That included marrying my adoptive father -- my dad and not my father, if you get my drift. They raised me and my sister, and inculcated in us simple values -- integrity, accountability, loyalty.

My dad and I had a rough relationship through my youth. I felt I could never please him, and carry that baggage to this day. He always thought I was a little soft, I think, a little too forgiving, and wanted me to be hard and stoic like he was. I'm stoic, make no mistake, but not hard; my emotions run close to a controlled surface, and can be pulled up with ease by anyone who really knows me. I'm no chip off his block and don't want to be -- I saw that how he ate his feelings left him stultified. I prefer to let my emotions go, in one form or another -- music, writing, emotions shared with close friends -- because it feels right for me.

I still live my life trying to uphold most of his values. He was a racist, and thankfully my mom prevented him spreading that disease to me and my sis. As a father myself now, I've made a conscious effort to make sure my son knows I love him no matter what, something Dad didn't do with me.

I live not too far from mom now, because at her age, I want to be close for any emergency. We get together once or twice a week and listen to each other.

I'm a lucky man. Faults and foibles aside, I had goddamned good parenting, and to this day still work at living the values they instilled.

[ignoramus]

Cool, I'm taking notes here. 
My dad and I never got on. He didn't like me as a person. He's dead now.

I like you. Alot!

[Alex K]

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

- Philip Larkin

[Athene]

AF Origins: Your Name Here

ha ha..I like it. 
Very good idea paulpablo.

[abaris]

Nothing but fond memories. I am a child of the 60ies, born in '63. My parents already were 40 when I was born and my brother is 15 years my senior.

My father owned a small chain of shops, my other the classic housewife. Especially my father went to great lengths in educating me. He was a technician, a mechanic by trade, and if the war and emmigration hadn't interfered, he would have aspired to become an engineer. For his whole life he was very interested in science. My mother, the same. If there had been no Hitler, she would have aspired to become a professional pianist. What she did was waking my interest in music.

All of this wasn't forced on me. Nothing was forced on me. When my father felt, I did anything wrong, he took me aside an told me stories of his own life to bring the point across that it's often good to listen to what the parent's say. Some still stick after all these years. Such as him getting into a skirmish in the civil war of 1934 because he was late to return home, as opposed to what his parents had told him. Or how to deal with loss. When my maternal grandfather died, the first person ever I lost, he told me about losing his own father, when he was but 13.

Religion also wasn't forced on me. Both my parents were mildly religious, but we hardly went to church. Only at christmas and easter when I was little.

[paulpablo]

Also I forgot to mention. As far as religion goes I've been raised as a Christian sort of. I was sent to a catholic school, confirmed, baptised. I think this is due to my grandparents on both sides being very strong believers, I don't think my parents care either way about God, they didn't put up much of a fight when I used to question how crazy the Adam and Eve and Noah's flood story is and they never go to church now

[robvalue]

My parents are both still alive, although my father is very ill. I wasn't raised in any religion, nor was I "raised atheist". It just wasn't discussed.

Probably like everyone, I assumed my parents must be "good parents" because I had nothing to compare to. Looking back, they were good in some ways, and awful in others.

My father is certainly a narcisist; he appears lacking in empathy, but I'm not sure whether or not it reaches psycopathic tendencies. Somewhere close, but not quite, I think. He loved being a father when we were young and dependent on him (I have two brothers) but once we started becoming relatively mentally independent (teens) he no longer liked it. He abused his position with us to try and stifle our abilities to be independent, to try and retain dependency on him. He ultimately failed, but the damage he did to me is lasting. I fight it still today, when my first thoughts are, "I can't do this. I'm just a kid. I don't know what I'm doing. I need someone else to do it for me."

My mother... is somewhat of a mystery. I now see her as a very crafty and manipulative person, but she seemed kind earlier in my life. Whether she changed, or I was taken in, I don't know. She stood by and watched my father psychologically abuse my brothers and I. She refused to leave him, they "stayed together for us" even though the results were not at all in our favour.

All three of us suffer with severe depression as well as multiple other issues. We're all broken people, in one way or another. We all responded to the abuse differently.

I am still financially dependent on them to a degree, due to being unable to work and my benefits not being enough to cover the rent and bills. I hate this situation, but have accepted it. They are loaded and can afford it, and I manage to have very minimal contact with them.

[SofaKingHigh]

Pretty boring really, Mum and dad are still together, currently on a cruise around the med, no less. My old man was in the Army, so I moved around. A lot. Was born in Germany, lived all over the UK, Germany again, Cyprus, Hong Kong.....it all made for a varied childhood.

They're still going strong, probably like a drink a little too much, but they're both hard working and loving parents.

Like I said, boring.

[robvalue]

I'd take boring anyday.

Sounds a lot less boring than my childhood. We barely went anywhere.