Those weird "quirks" that turn out to be a direct result of being raised by PDs

[Cat of the Canals]

One of mine is that I've never had a real haircut. PDmom always cut my hair when I was a kid. Once I got older, I let friends cut it or did it myself. But I've never had a professional even so much as give me a trim.

Only now, as I near 40 years old, has it occurred to me that perhaps this was not some random thing that *just happened*. 18 years didn't go by and oops, my parents forgot to ever take me to get my haircut!

We were not too poor for haircuts. We weren't in some kind of cult of long hair. In fact, everyone else in my family went to a barber or stylist for haircuts. My parents were so particular about it that they each had a dedicated hair person. When I got my driver's license, one of the first things I was tasked with was taking my younger brother to get his hair cut.

So WTF????

Then I started putting the pieces together. PDmom used to tell me when I was little that I had the hair she'd "always wanted." (Long and straight.) Hers was curly, which was something her own mother complained about. On top of that, mom came of age in the hippie days when everyone was wearing it long and straight.

So of course she never took me to a stylist, where I would have been asked how I wanted my hair cut and might have said, "CUT IT SHORT!" Of course this tiny expression of my own independence and bodily autonomy would have been withheld. And I didn't even know any better. It didn't occur to me that it was even an option to ask for a real haircut. Something I might want. Mom cut my hair, and that was that!

And now it's like... A Thing. Like, this normal thing everyone else does and has done forever, but I haven't, so I am irrationally scared to do it.

Do you have any "oh, that's because of my PD parent(s)!" epiphanies?

[Andeza]

I had some a few years ago. Growing up uBPDm would always talk down about women that got their hair and nails done. I chewed my nails for years, then just trimmed them when necessary. I didn't have my first manicure until I was 25, and for some reason I felt guilty about it. Took me a bit to piece together that mom taking down about it and the cost and how irresponsible and wasteful it was had imbedded in my brain along the way. I go now and then. Not frequent. But I do have the budget to go if I want to.

[Cat of the Canals]

Growing up uBPDm would always talk down about women that got their hair and nails done.

A few years back, my mom was badmouthing a cousin who had posted pictures of her daughter's 13th birthday party on social media. She'd taken her daughter and a few friends to get mani/pedis. *GASP!*

Mom was rolling her eyes and acting like this was such a shallow, frivolous thing to do. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, "Sounds like a dream birthday party for a lot of 13 year old girls."

You can probably guess I've had exactly zero manicures. 

[Andeza]

I definitely recommend it. The better places throw in an arm massage. It's nice.

And same. Sound like am awesome party for a bunch of girls. Our pd parents just didn't teach us that this kind of thing is okay so long as you budget for it.

[Jolie40]

cat,

I cut my own hair, also (now)
last time I was at hairdressers was about 10 yrs ago

PD parent made me go to hairdressers when I was asked to high school dance
they did my hair so super fancy that I didn't look like myself & I hated it
so after that I was never keen about gettin my hair done & rarely did

[notrightinthehead]

I remember going to the hair dresser as a kid and crying for days after because she cut my hair. In fact, many times in my life I felt like crying after a visit to the hair dresser. Once I went to another one two days after the first visit. I had been to an expensive salon, staffed with really good hairdressers, one had to make appointments and a lot of fuss was made. I came out after a felt eternity with a hair do I didn't like and having paid a fortune.  The worst is when they blow dry my hair and make me look like my grandma.
I can't cut my own hair, so I bite the bullet twice a year. I wear it quite long so I can tie it up and I stick with a hairdresser who doesn't have airs and graces, does what I ask her to do, and does it in a kind and respectful way.
I definitely recommend going Cat. Who knows what your experiences will be? You might like it and they will full of praise for your hair. 

[Liketheducks]

WTH?  I was 12 before I'd ever had my hair cut at all.   Never thought about it until this post.   My mom had major hair changes......long to pixie to perm, etc.   Me, nothing.   SO weird.   

[Andeza]

Prior to 11-12 I wasn't allowed to pick how my hair was cut. I had those 90s bangs... the straight across ones that did not look cute on me, but they kept me looking much younger than I actually was. uBPDm always cut my bangs up to that point. I hated it. I cried the whole time because I was terrified she was going to get hair in my eyes (looking back I realize this is not a normal thing to be that freaked out over). It was a huge meltdown on my part, which is probably why she wouldn't take me to a salon to get it done. Go figure, once I fought her and grew out my bangs, haircuts were no longer a big deal because the hair was no longer in my face. Problem solved! Imagine that! Now if only she'd listened to me years before that point. She lamented the loss of those bangs for years, and then I got my hair cut into a bob, and she missed it more than I did.

[NarcKiddo]

They are SO obsessed with personal appearance. Mine didn't let me choose any of my own clothes until I was 15. She loved going clothes shopping with me but I had to wear what she wanted and even now she buys me clothing that does not suit me or does not fit. She also cut my hair, and coloured it and once gave me a home perm. 

I am sure I have many quirks as a result of my upbringing but the one that springs to mind is a recent example because I have been discussing it with my therapist. I bought a colouring book to help me with relaxation. It is really complex, intricate mandala designs and requires total concentration while doing it. I found myself doing it in secret when my husband was out of the house. If he was around I was scared of doing it.  I knew he wouldn't mock me for it as he has done colouring himself in the past and enjoys it. When discussing with my therapist I realised the only other activity I engage in that requires total concentration is the gym. My mother would not be seen dead in a gym so I am safe there. She would never turn up unexpectedly and start trying to get involved. Colouring, on the other hand, is something she enjoys. Not only is there the obvious association of her engulfing me and taking over my activity as she did when I was a child, but being unable to be hyper vigilant takes me right outside of my comfort zone.

My therapist was really pleased that I had inadvertently picked an activity that is much more challenging than I realised, and that I am doing it nevertheless.

[Cat of the Canals]

Wow, I had no idea so many of you would have such similar experiences.

They are SO obsessed with personal appearance. Mine didn't let me choose any of my own clothes until I was 15.

I've thought about the clothes angle as well. I genuinely don't remember choosing any of my own clothes before I was about 13. I have zero memories of even being taken shopping for clothes before then. I think she just bought me stuff, and I had to wear it. Once I was in high school, when it came time for Christmas or birthdays, I requested one thing: money for clothes shopping. I simply wanted one opportunity to buy some things without her overruling me. Never happened.

I bought a colouring book to help me with relaxation. It is really complex, intricate mandala designs and requires total concentration while doing it. I found myself doing it in secret when my husband was out of the house. If he was around I was scared of doing it. 

I have a similar response to drawing. I enjoy it and yet have this paralyzing anxiety that keeps me from doing it very often. It took me a while to realize it's probably because I wasn't ever allowed to just draw as a kid. PDmom has very rigid ideas and opinions about art. So I had to use THIS BOOK to learn the RIGHT WAY.

[Srcyu]

Here's a weird one for you.
I was once told off for taking 'too much' sliced pickled beetroot from the jar. We were all sitting at the table and she made me put some back. I cried at the unexpected criticism and the irritated vibes around the table.

To this day, as a fully grown adult in my own home, I still stop and take note of how much beetroot I put on my plate.

I then add more while muttering under my breath ( this is best done alone).

[NotCryingGlitter]

Very thought-provoking discussion!

I could go on all day with so many social-related things or never hearing a sincere "proud of you" (and every other positive thing) from them, but some of my "but everybody else has" depressing thoughts that often stick out to me are a real birthday as an adult (an actual celebration, not a smear campaign day), a non-vacation/trip/hotel girls sleepover (too much anxiety and bullying in childhood to do it), and a holiday (for certain as an adult) that didn't include one of those smear campaigns or negative experiences.

Maybe one day.

[Cat of the Canals]

I was once told off for taking 'too much' sliced pickled beetroot from the jar.

And with PDs I imagine you would also run equal risk of been told off for not taking ENOUGH beetroot. PDmil once got violent with my husband when he was 5 and refusing to eat squash.

NotCryingGlitter, I wasn't allowed to have sleepovers until I was in my teens, and even then it was like pulling teeth to get my mother to agree to it. And I was never allowed more than one person. This rule, for some reason, did not apply to my brother, who had something like 6 friends stay over for his 12th birthday.  Eventually, I didn't really want to bring friends to my house. And I can't remember a single holiday that didn't devolve into a fight between my parents.

[NotCryingGlitter]

I was once told off for taking ‘too much’ sliced pickled beetroot from the jar.

And with PDs I imagine you would also run equal risk of been told off for not taking ENOUGH beetroot. PDmil once got violent with my husband when he was 5 and refusing to eat squash.

NotCryingGlitter, I wasn't allowed to have sleepovers until I was in my teens, and even then it was like pulling teeth to get my mother to agree to it. And I was never allowed more than one person. This rule, for some reason, did not apply to my brother, who had something like 6 friends stay over for his 12th birthday.  Eventually, I didn't really want to bring friends to my house. And I can't remember a single holiday that didn't devolve into a fight between my parents.

It was a crime if I asked to attend one with just one friend (not a group sleepover), and when the individual ones happened, there was one very memorable situation where, after being picked up, it was a humiliating display of disapproval, that even the friend's family still remembers to this day.

I guess you were lucky in that the fight was between them and not always directed at you. Once I can manage to leave, I will spend holidays volunteering out of town, if I don't have someone to spend them with (though, volunteering can still be a part of it), because at least it would be doing something to help bring joy to someone...with it also giving me an excuse of why I won't be there.

[doglady]

Very interesting discussion.

I also don't like getting my haircut. Or coloured. It's long and white. (Thankfully I've concluded that witches look awesome and powerful.)

However, you've now got me wondering if it all stems back to  my mother's bizarre hair obsessions.


My hair history:
She did home perms on me when I was preschooler!

Then cut my hair really short, complete with crooked fringe/bangs, just before I started school and other kids teased me for looking a like a boy.

Then once that grew out, I *had* to have it long and unstyled throughout my primary and secondary schooling. Pair this with super modest clothing (think shirred corduroy peasant dresses over high necked blouses, thick tights and sensible shoes, which also had to match what my four years younger sister wore).
My husband, upon seeing some photos of me as a teenager, shook his head and said, 'What the hell was your mother trying to do: make you look like if Laura Ingalls joined a super religious cult?!'

When I left school and got my first job, I got my hair cut to shoulder length and layered. I went home and my mother took one look, looked as if she was about to burst into tears, and then literally refused to speak to me for days.

Fun times.

[doglady]

Oh, and she got really angry when I stopped colouring my hair. (I did colour my hair for a while, as I was pressured to when I started going grey at 18 (as had she) but I got sick of that pretty quickly and let my hair grow out white.) That seemed to be a personal affront to her as she likes people to think she's still naturally jet black in her 80s and doesn't like them asking her why all her kids have white hair.

[Aeon]

Is there something about PD's and hair? I have to many years cut my own, also.
Largely from all the comments the unPD mother made about how it was always "a mess" and according to her I never combed it. I had more of my Dad's curl in it so I think that bothered her. I also went grey at about 17 but by then I was an older scapegoat and she hadn't cared about my existence for several years.
Dad to was to blame for the grey and he was a fairly decent parent so I didn't get to hear about that from the PD.
Thanks for talking about this, I have never really had anyone that seemed to understand and unloading it and hearing about others can only be good.

[NotCryingGlitter]

It's probably such an issue because it is part of appearance, which is an easy and emotional way of attack, especially when trying to condition you on how to feel about your outward appearance and how others view it; they want THEIR negative thoughts in your head when you look in the mirror. Some people's hair play a part in their identity, because if they keep a similar style for a very long time, it's one of the ways that people recognize them. For example, natural curls are not really something that changes, so it is one of the main ways a person that has them is recognized and probably one of the primary compliments from other people.

It makes me think of how people go for hair changes during a crisis or healing process -- the change is also emotional when it comes to hair.

[Boat Babe]

Oh, and she got really angry when I stopped colouring my hair. (I did colour my hair for a while, as I was pressured to when I started going grey at 18 (as had she) but I got sick of that pretty quickly and let my hair grow out white.) That seemed to be a personal affront to her as she likes people to think she's still naturally jet black in her 80s and doesn't like them asking her why all her kids have white hair.

Jet black hair on an 80 year old. Not a harsh look at all. 

[moglow]

Hair:  I don't like anyone touching my hair, mussing it, tousling it, none of that madness. I don't want it brushed or for you to play with or run your fingers through it. It's all I can do to get through hairdressers washing and cutting it, and these days I keep it short because I like it that way. Because as a child "little girls are supposed to have long hair" and my mother resented being the one to take care of it. There were times where she'd cut it all off, a chopped off irregular pixie with uneven too-short bangs or a tony home perm on tiny rods in baby fine hair that tangled easily. Looked like a rats nest.

Hair for me was a battle and one I never won. Move a centimeter while she whipped a stiff hairbrush through it and she'd snatch it even harder. There was nothing pleasant or soothing about having my hair brushed and to this day it sets my teeth on edge.