A shovel full of red volcanic earth is extended to me and Jay, my then boyfriend, squeezes my shoulder and jolts me back to reality. I scoop a handful of earth into my fist, and my very overthinking mind questions whether I scooped up the appropriate portion to send off my dad; who slept and forgot to wake up and is now being lowered six feet under my feet in a brown casket. I am shaking. Not only that, but I cannot tell if it’s because now reality is dawning on me; and I am coming into acceptance that I’ll see him no more; or It’s because I am still thinking of the amount of earth I scooped; it being lesser or more than required and how I will unfold my fist and let go of the soil, in a bid to demonstrate my last respects.
Screams rent the air as a commotion arises by my right-hand side, and the corner of my eye catches my mum being carried away in an unconscious state. I thought I felt pain seeing my dad’s sweetheart not being able to handle the grief, but on my left-hand side was the most painful sight that still remains engraved in me. My small three sisters were clutching onto my eldest sister, Sophie, their small faces all swollen up and cherish red out of the sobbing, and she fought so hard to hide her tears and hold the kids together.
On my left-hand side was the most painful sight that still remains engraved in me. My small three sisters were clutching onto my eldest sister, Sophie.
It was a different kind of pain. My eyes could not leave the three beautiful faces of my small sisters and my heart bleed afresh. As if life has a way of mocking us bringing round the past, I saw myself fourteen years back, having the same age as our last born and my eldest sister the age of the twins. I can count my sister and I lucky that life gave us another dad, but my heart bleeds for the small girls. From that moment on, they had no one else to call dad.
Every single second came in with a revelation. It dawned on me that a new responsibility was mounted on our shoulders as the eldest kids. We were the newest parents in town, alongside our mum. It sank deeper when I realized that we also will never fill the gap that was left by dad. No matter how I would step in the gap and try to fill the void and even if I gave the world to them, I would never replace the name dad. I would forever remain to be a sibling to them, their elder sister and not dad.
Sibling parentification is nothing anyone wishes upon themselves. Countless situations and circumstances lead siblings into being parents at very tender ages. Parentification is often referred to as growing up too fast. Typically, it occurs when a child takes on parental responsibility for their siblings or even their parents, taking care of a sibling or parent physically, mentally, or emotionally. This can damage a child’s mental well-being and lead to long-term mental health conditions such as depression and anxiety and even difficulty in building relationships.
Your adult circle of acquaintances, colleagues, and friends probably include some who fit the bill. You may recognize the once-parentified child in the over-responsible co-worker, the always-available friend.
If you think about it, your adult circle of acquaintances, colleagues, and friends probably include some who fit the bill. You may recognize the once-parentified child in the over-responsible co-worker, the always-available friend, the one who always seems to be weighed down by something, yet manages to take care of everything without ever asking for help in return.
About a year ago, I found myself in a group discussion with friends, and each talked about how they would want life to be after graduating. All I found myself saying upon being asked of my aspirations is that I would want to work hard and be financially stable; to support my small sisters and give them a life that their dad would have wanted them to have. I thought I was far from openly declaring that I had dedicated my life to my sisters until I found myself boldly declaring to some certain guy; who asked me out for a date, that I didn’t want kids of my own since I already had three small girls to raise. You are probably wondering if I said this intentionally to show focused, I was with life, but I said all this out of consent. Nothing orchestrated, and I realized that my mindset had long changed into one of a parent.
Photo courtesy: Pinterest
Deeply unsure of their own worth, parentified adults form relationships based on how valuable they can be to others. This allows them familiar feelings of being good and worthy, from which they can operate in the world around them. This can look like people-pleasing, or being the agony aunt, or overextending their own resources to help others. On the other hand, they struggle to receive support in return. They wonder – how much can I ask for? Will I be considered needy or dramatic? They struggle to claim space in the lives of others, uncertain if the person will stay should they have an ask of their own. The worst fallout comes in romantic relationships. Studies show that parentified adults are vulnerable to unhealthy, addictive or destructive intimate relationships.
As we speak, my dear reader, I am seated at a lovely café having brunch with this fine son of Pharaoh who is bantering passionately about how he would want kids with me if I accept his proposal. Do I sabotage all this and tell him I already have three children, or let him fantasize as he wills?
Touching. May his soul rest in peace and his memory be a blessing to all who knew him.