Navigating Dysfunctional Family Dynamics and Finding Paths to Healing
When contemplating dysfunctional families, it’s uncommon to consider that mothers could be the root of familial distress. And why would we? Cultural narratives typically elevate mothers to an ideal status, portraying them as kind, nurturing, and patient individuals. Against all odds, they are seen as making deep sacrifices to raise their children.
However, this traditional narrative often overlooks the harsh reality that not all mothers are the same. Some abandon their children, others are abusive, and many may be emotionally unavailable. In essence, mothers can also be toxic, appearing in various forms.
Elena: “You’re just like your sister”
Elena was only nine when she witnessed her mother expel her 16-year-old sister from their home. Too young to grasp the full situation, Elena initially sided with her mother, believing the conflict stemmed from differing opinions. In retrospect, as a 29-year-old freelancer, she recognizes the depth of her mother’s dysfunction. “Kicking out your daughter. Making your kids hate their siblings. What kind of mother does that?” she reflects.
Things were not always like this; during her first nine years, life was seemingly normal. Her mother showered Elena and her two siblings with love, taking them on overseas trips and engaging in magical activities like ice skating. However, following her parents’ divorce, Elena noticed a troubling change in her mother’s demeanor, especially towards her eldest sister.
“She frequently told her, ‘You’re just like your father,’ in a disgusted tone… Eventually, she told my sister to leave—just as she had done with my dad.”
As Elena grew older, her mother’s behavior became increasingly erratic. For a time, she used only water and vinegar for cleaning, leaving the house with a lingering rancid odor. The fridge was stocked with rice and fresh vegetables—not for the family to consume but for the dogs.
“She would tell my older brother and me, ‘You’re on your own for food. The stuff in the fridge is for the dogs,’” Elena recalls at 17.
Attempts to communicate or reason with her mother were often met with shouting, turning their home into a hellish environment. During her teenage years, Elena sought refuge in her room to escape the chaos.
When she turned 20 and began her career, her mother invited her to dinner, which turned out to be a setup for a heated confrontation. Furious about Elena’s lack of financial contributions, her mother raged, belittling Elena’s insecurities in public.
The conversation ended with a threat to kick her out.
“I constantly fear that one day I’ll be without a roof over my head because I never know when my mom might kick me out,” she admits. “Living like that isn’t healthy. After that dinner, I decided to move out—I told her a few days later. We fought, and she said, ‘You’re just like your sister.’”
That statement made Elena realize her mother would never change. Angry and hurt, she moved out. Despite years of silence, she still sends money to her mother’s CPF account, a final act of love for the mother she once knew.
“I don’t love her now, but she did raise me, so this is my way of showing love to the mom I had as a kid.”
SJ: The Mother Who Can’t Apologize
Children often see their mothers as all-knowing figures who bear the heavy burdens of raising them. This perception fades with age, revealing that mothers, too, are fallible. The issue arises when they fail to apologize. SJ recognized this at just six years old.
“I asked her to wake me for something. She forgot, which is a normal human error,” SJ recalls. “As a child, I was heartbroken. A simple apology would have sufficed, but she was more focused on placating me than admitting her mistake.”
Thus began SJ’s tumultuous relationship with his controlling mother. Hailing from a developing country, she imposed unrealistic expectations on SJ, now 28, urging him to excel academically and pursue a medical career like hers.
In her eyes, academic success was paramount.
“There was a pervasive sense of never being good enough. Your interests are often dismissed. It became a classic scenario where I’d find something amusing, only for my parents to turn it into a lecture on how I should live my life. Eventually, I stopped sharing things with them.”
While many mothers would celebrate their children’s academic achievements, SJ’s remained dissatisfied. Despite being among the top scorers in his class, she relentlessly interrogated him for taking breaks or reading literature. “It’s ironic because English was one of my weakest subjects.”
Resentment festered, and in his early teens, SJ vowed never to become like her. Even as a certified fitness instructor, she continued to treat him like a child, belittling his career choices.
“I did my research, reviewed my sources, and shared them with her—a woman of science. She dismissed it! Like, you made a claim, I dispute your claim, and then you brush it off as your child being disrespectful.”
Coping with her behavior was exhausting. SJ resorted to ignoring her entirely, even altering his sleep schedule to avoid her. The unfortunate consequence was that he became hyper-aware and paranoid around her.
“Whenever she speaks, I brace myself. Am I going to get berated? Scolded harshly? My emotional defenses go up. It’s not healthy,” SJ explains. “Though we stopped communicating, I notice she mistreats my dad, too.”
Fortunately, SJ’s father was a stabilizing presence, stepping in to handle household chores. Yet, he was also a “passive enabler,” often urging SJ to appease his mother to maintain peace.
“That’s why I left. You let people scold you and shout at you like that? Where’s your dignity?”
Ultimately, SJ cut ties and moved in with his partner. It took months to overcome the paranoia and fear of his parents finding him, but he gradually began to heal. Surrounded by supportive friends, he could unpack his trauma and feelings of inadequacy.
“I had the space to work on my issues without any noise, without needing to guard myself all the time. I could finally talk about my parents without being gaslit or disrespected.”
Nicole: Unlearning Toxic Behaviors
Today, Nicole practices restraint in her speech. The 29-year-old coach catches critical thoughts before they slip out, reframing her mindset and responding when calm.
It’s the only way to unlearn the toxic behaviors she inherited from her mother.
“I picked up many of her negative traits. The things I dislike about myself largely mirror her actions. For instance, if things aren’t done to my expectations, I become critical and upset,” Nicole states. “Not only do I scold myself, but I also criticize others, which hinders conflict resolution. That’s how my mother handled disputes with me.”
Even apologizing is a struggle for her. Nicole reflects on how her parents rarely said “sorry” during her upbringing. Instead, they expressed remorse in other ways—her father through food, her mother through tantrums.
“When I confront my mom about things that trouble me, she often responds with, ‘Oh, I’m a terrible parent. I suck. I’m better off dead. I don’t deserve to be your mom.’ Then she’ll have a pity party: Crying, retreating to her room, slamming doors. It never ends well.” Nicole recalls a childhood filled with ultimatums, guilt trips, and gaslighting.
Illnesses she experienced were frequently dismissed or minimized by her mother. At around ten or eleven, she suffered from a “borderline 40-degree fever.” Her mother insisted they meet at a bus stop ten minutes away before heading to the nearby Polyclinic, leaving Nicole with no choice but to make the journey despite feeling dizzy.
In her early twenties, she faced a urinary tract infection and lay on the bathroom floor for 30 minutes, waiting for her mother to bring painkillers. It turned out her mother forgot.
“Wow. You can see your daughter lying on the bathroom floor, and you’re just like, ‘Eh, my show is more important.’”
Violence was also part of the equation. When Nicole was 25, she confronted her mother about favoritism towards her sibling, leading to a chaotic scene—screaming, yelling, and her mother scratching Nicole’s arms. They didn’t speak for a month afterward.
During the cold war, her father often coaxed her to reconcile with her mother. “My dad expected me to be the one to mend things. But we both knew that if it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t make the effort.”
A dispute over a massage chair finally pushed Nicole to her breaking point.
“My dad had been eyeing one for a long time. But my mom insisted that this is her house, her space. I initially thought it was a financial issue, but it turned out she simply found it unattractive and refused to have it in the house unless it was in my room, which was absurd.”
Tired of suppressing her feelings, Nicole packed her bags and left the following day. Seven months later, during Chinese New Year, her mother called, inviting her back for a reunion dinner. Nicole was shocked.
Her mother had finally relented.
Breaking the Cycle
When the time came to return for dinner, Nicole struggled to go. The pain was still too fresh, the emotions too raw. She called her mother to politely decline, leading to a four-hour phone call.
Years of pent-up tension erupted during the conversation.
“It started off quite badly. She’d say, ‘Being your mom is so difficult.’ But by the end, she began to lighten up. She asked, ‘What the hell do you want from me? You’re so demanding as a daughter.’”
“I replied, ‘I just want you to acknowledge that you’ve done things that weren’t right. Acknowledging that you’re not a perfect mom. That it’s okay to be sorry.’
At that moment, it went well. My mother stayed quiet, listened, and began apologizing for her shortcomings.”
No guilt trips. No pity parties. While it wasn’t a complete resolution, there was an effort. That was enough for Nicole to gradually move back home.
Though she admits her current relationship with her mother can be awkward, it’s significantly improved compared to their past. Meanwhile, Elena and SJ remain estranged from their mothers, feeling there’s nothing left to salvage.
Elena sums it up with a wistful smile, “It’s better if she doesn’t exist to me, and I don’t exist to her.”
Post-Mortem
Growing up with toxic mothers is a painful, complex, and traumatic experience that can leave lasting scars. Children may inadvertently replicate their problematic behaviors as adults. Still, there is hope. With community support and self-awareness, it’s possible to break the cycle of dysfunction that plagues many families across generations.
This may also involve moving out if one has the means to do so.
SJ remains committed to his vow never to emulate his mother. As a fitness trainer, he practices extra care when working with younger clients—treating them with respect, listening to their concerns, and providing balanced, constructive feedback.
“I talk to children as I wish I had been spoken to. I take their autonomy and boundaries seriously because I wish that had been the case for me. I treat children with the same human decency and respect I afford adults. They’re inexperienced, but that doesn’t justify mistreatment.”
Elena echoes that sentiment, aspiring to be a better parent by adopting various roles in her children’s lives: a nurturing mother during childhood, a supportive friend in adolescence, and a guiding mentor in adulthood.
For Nicole, old habits die hard, but she is determined to change and take responsibility for her personal growth. From overcoming people-pleasing tendencies to curbing excessive criticism of herself and others, she consciously works to recognize and correct negative behaviors as they arise.
“It’s about being very aware and unlearning these behaviors to ensure those around me don’t experience what I did growing up. If I have a family, I’ve told my fiancé that I’ll be sure our kids don’t turn out like I did. I want them to feel cared for and heard.”
In a society where filial piety is a core Asian value, severing ties with loved ones may seem like the ultimate betrayal. Yet, sometimes, distance can foster healing. It provides space to reflect or accept that a mother was not the person one deserved and isn’t worth celebrating. The harsh truth is that some mothers are simply toxic—but that’s their issue, not yours.
