Dear Therapist: I Cannot Support My Mother’s Marriage

Her soon-to-be husband abused her and traumatized me.

a woman holding her mother's tattered wedding train as she walks off with a man in a suit
Illustration by Bianca Bagnarelli
Editor’s Note: On the last Monday of each month, Lori Gottlieb answers a reader’s question about a problem, big or small. Have a question? Email her at dear.therapist@theatlantic.com.

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Dear Therapist,

My mother has been in a verbally and at times physically abusive relationship for more than two-thirds of my life. After my parents split up when I was a child, my dad had custody, but during visits with my mom, and a brief time living with her, I witnessed physical violence and sexually inappropriate talk, and was verbally abused myself by this man. Sometimes the police were involved, but my mom always dropped the charges. I suffered immense trauma, which to this day has still not been validated by her; at times she has even denied that certain things happened.

After many years of therapy in adulthood, and a really bad incident that led to her boyfriend’s arrest a few years ago, during which I provided emotional support to my mom only for her to later return to the relationship, I chose to no longer have any contact with this man. I also set boundaries around my relationship with her for the first time. At first, there was a huge strain on our relationship, and although it has never been the same, we have been able to begin to rebuild over the past couple of years.

Now my mom has announced that she is going to marry this guy, and wants me at the wedding. I cannot fathom being around this person or supporting their marriage. But I am also heartbroken by the idea of missing my own mother’s wedding, and I am worried about what that will do to our relationship.

While almost every part of me says do not attend, there is this ever-present worry. Any advice is welcome. I am at a loss on what to do here.

Anonymous
California


Dear Anonymous,

I can understand why this decision feels so difficult for you, and I hear the ways in which you feel pulled into a situation that makes you doubt your instincts. On the one hand, you seem to have clarity about what’s right for you; on the other, you’re unable to act on this clarity. This is something that I suspect your mother struggles with too, so I want to begin by helping you understand the choices she makes, so that you can examine this pattern in yourself and free yourself from it.

Abusive relationships are tricky to understand from the outside, because, the thinking goes, why would a person decide to stay with (or repeatedly return to) someone who harms them? I imagine that you have had trouble making sense of your mom’s decisions for your entire life, but her decisions don’t make sense for this reason: Abusers typically control their victims through emotional manipulation, which in turn results in distorted thinking in the abused.

Examples of this distorted thinking might include defending the abuser (“He’s going through a hard time” or “He really loves me and feels so bad about this”). An abused person might even start to believe that she caused the abuse (“If I didn’t trigger him, he wouldn’t act this way”) or minimize the behavior (“He lost his temper, but don’t we all?” or “It’s just words; that’s not really abuse”). Perpetrators also prey on their victims’ sense of self-worth, accusing them of being problematic (“You want more affection? You’re so needy!”); attempt to induce guilt (“See what you made me do!”); and degrade their partner by telling them they’re undesirable (“You’re leaving? Who else is gonna want you?”).

Manipulation can also contribute to fears about leaving. The abuser might threaten the victim’s safety if she were to leave. Some people in abusive relationships worry that they’re putting their children at risk if they leave the children’s father (“My children may suffer if I take away their dad” or “If I leave and he gets time with them alone, I don’t trust that he won’t hurt them”). Others have real concerns about financial stability for themselves and their children. Still others have significant terror about being alone, because their sense of self has been so diminished.

To make matters worse, many abusers try to isolate their victims, so that the person being abused doesn’t get perspective on their distorted beliefs from people outside the relationship. An abuser might criticize their partner’s friends or family, dissuade their partner from spending time with them, threaten the partner if she shares “private information” about their relationship with outside parties, and convince her that nobody else understands the deep love they share and that the only person who has her back and best interests in mind is her abuser.

Many people who gravitate toward abusive partners and have trouble leaving also have histories that push them in this direction. For instance, a person who grew up witnessing abuse might not know what healthy love looks like, may feel some kind of loyalty to the abuser (“He had an alcoholic father, and his mother died when he was young, so I don’t want to abandon him”), or might subconsciously act out a childhood desire to “fix” an abusive parent by believing she can fix her abusive partner (“If I just love him enough, he will change”).

Finally, being controlled, manipulated, and physically or emotionally harmed causes trauma, which also contributes to self-doubt, confusion, and an inability to trust one’s own instincts.

What does any of this have to do with you? Not only were you forced to witness your mother’s abuse when you were a child, but you were abused by this man too, and the person who was supposed to keep you safe didn’t do so, because she couldn’t extricate herself from his abuse either. As a result, a part of you has internalized the same self-blame and lack of self-trust your mother seems to experience. Instead of asking How can I take care of myself?, you’re asking How will my mother feel about this? You’re experiencing “ever-present worry” over making a choice that protects your emotional well-being—just like the ever-present worry your mother likely has about making a healthy choice that will upset her partner.

Unlike your mother, though, you have protected yourself in a way that she couldn’t. You went to therapy, processed your trauma and grief, and gained clarity on what you need to feel safe. You cut off contact with the person who abused both of you. You set boundaries with your mom that you weren’t able to before, even at the risk of upsetting her. Your hard work has led you to this point, and it sounds like what you need now is to continue to listen to your own voice and give yourself permission to remove yourself from an unhealthy situation, even if your mom won’t give herself that gift.

So let’s reframe your question: You aren’t just asking if it’s reasonable to take care of yourself by not attending your mother’s wedding. You’re asking if it’s reasonable to take care of yourself by not attending the wedding of someone who has abused both you and your mom.

This is what I hear you say loud and clear in your letter: Yes, I know it is.

Now you just need to say this to your mother, and you can do this in an email. It might look something like this:

“Dear Mom, I love you very much, and, as you know, it breaks my heart that you’re choosing to be with someone who hurts you when you deserve so much more. Although this may upset you, I’ve decided not to attend your wedding, for two reasons. First, it will be too painful to watch someone I love set herself up to be continually mistreated. I can’t celebrate this with you. It will require my exterior to not match my interior, and I’m not willing to do that. Second, I have my own pain from this man’s abuse, and being around him brings up that old trauma. I don’t want to put myself through that. I know this decision might disappoint you, but I will disappoint myself even more if I go. I hope one day you learn how to not disappoint yourself either. I’m glad we’ve begun to have a more honest relationship with each other in my adulthood, and I believe that this honesty will continue to bring us closer. Thanks for respecting my choice, even if you don’t agree with it. Love you, [NAME].

Then press “Send,” take a deep breath, and congratulate yourself for taking another important step toward removing yourself from the cycle of abuse.


Dear Therapist is for informational purposes only, does not constitute medical advice, and is not a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician, mental-health professional, or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. By submitting a letter, you are agreeing to let The Atlantic use it—in part or in full—and we may edit it for length and/or clarity.

Lori Gottlieb is a contributing writer at The Atlantic and the author of Maybe You Should Talk to Someone.