The Victorian-esque Parenting of an Emotionally Unavailable Man

English Victorians were a stoic bunch; they believed strongly in minding ones own business; they were serious, non-emotional and the upperclasses prided themselves on rationality. 

I see similar traits in Peter and his parents, in some ways. They will mind their own business to an extent by never sharing their own negative business, but I've always been certain that they revel in gossip. However, they will never gossip about their own children or their personal lives, treating them as an extension of themselves far, far into adulthood. 

I had to think long and hard about how to write this post, how to word it, how to get my point across. Firstly, I don't believe that any parents should interfere in their adult child's relationship unless there is danger or harm being incurred. Then, I find myself thinking, at the same time, that perhaps there are instances where an adult child's parent should have a word or two with their own child. To direct them onto the  path of giving and sharing in marriage and parenting.

Relationships and raising families don't come easily to our men, what is natural for most, needs instruction for others. Our men are so used to prioritising and pleasing themselves, thinking of another human's needs before their own is a foreign concept for them.

I discovered during my relationship with Peter, when I was on better terms with his sister, that conversations had taken place between his mother and sister about his inner selfishness. They were aware of it. But they never said anything TO him about it. I find myself wondering, if he'd had some direction, some "parenting" in the verb-sense, from his family about how priorities change when you have children, how you can't down tools when children are poorly and skulk off to tinker with car engines for the day. How sometimes, plans have to change. How WE have to change. Would our lives have been better? He looks up to his father, which is obvious to all and the one person who could have imparted a wise sentence or two which would undoubtedly have impacted on Peter and our lives for the better, is him. 

Instead, his father advises him on what to spend his money on, on the practicalities of caravanning. But he has never once shared wisdom on his role in raising a family. I see this as missed opportunity, missed change, missed impact which could have made all our lives better. Peter's father has always prioritised family above all; is there a reason he didn't nurture his son into doing the same? Am I being idealistic to imagine his father putting an arm around him and saying "you have a family now son...?" Or is this sort of openness just for the movies?

I remember Peter's father once telling me how unnerved he'd felt in a car with Peter once due to his fast driving. It was rare for his father to share anything with me, so this came as a surprise. "Did you not think to just ask him to slow down?" I said. The answer seemingly obvious to me. 

"No" he responded.

Peter currently lives with his parents and scoops up the best parts of two lives. 

1) Sitting in his adolescent bedroom pleasing himself. 

2) Dipping in and out of family life as we still have family holidays and do family days out together. He also still comes to the house to help with the children (but he obviously then gets to escape again!)

He is living rent free and his parents do not question or  disturb him.

His mother washes his clothes, cleans his sheets and changes his bed. When our children stay with him two nights a week, he has live-in childcare and they accept any request Peter makes of them with regards to practical help. 

He is evidently dipping in and out of two lives and his parents say nothing. Peter has openly told me how no conversations at all have been had about our separation, the future, his plans, nothing. They don't ask him a thing and just accept his double life and his avoidance of responsibility. I know that this is true. They avoid initiating any sort of emotional connection with him whilst continuing to carry out practical tasks at his request. Is this their silent permission to live as he does?

Although of course we have to allow our children to make their own mistakes as they grow and develop, I can't help feeling that there is a significant neglect issue in the imparting of wisdom, emotional connection and direction in their adult child's life. I think of all the wisdom handed down to me by my elders during pregnancy, not meddling, just basic wisdom, kindness, care and love. Yet, in Peter's world, practical interference equals care when emotional connection and nurturing is non-existent. Ironically, both his parents tried to tell me how to parent our first-born, primarily his mother, but they say nothing to Peter. He doesn't get angry, his mental health has always been good, so why not? Why won't they ever confront him or be honest with him about anything? Why do they fear upsetting him? Because he's male?

I see some autistic adolescents who are surrounded by love, connection, empathy from their parents and they show a motivation to grow, develop and mature. They're able to think of the future, create goals and work towards them, they show empathy. These are the parents who sought out a diagnosis for their struggling child in the first place and with the support and guidance as their brain is maturing, wonderful things can happen. 

Peter's father once told me that he'd always realised that Peter was a little different and joked that he'd often wondered if it was his fault for accidentally dropping a mirror on his head when he was young. He then swiftly changed the subject. Another missed opportunity. He knows that professionals have voiced openly that Peter has some sort of "disconnection possibly caused by neurodiversity" and he remains quiet. He knows that Peter has refused any sort of formal diagnosis. And he still remains quiet. He has not at any point, mentioned anything to Peter about his own views.

I spoke to his mother after our second-born came along about my need for more support from Peter, following my autoimmune diagnosis. "Peter's life has changed enough" she said. Why all the pandering? Was she frightened to take away his pleasures and his treats as a child? Was she inflicting her own parental guilt for returning to work when he was three months old onto our lives now? Was she making her mistakes my responsibility? "Peter needs his down time" was another response I got. What about my down time? Little did she realise that I'd been a svelte and sexy party-going, beer guzzling, disco loving career girl pre-Peter and now I had a part-time job, saggy skin, saggy boobs, 3 stone weight gain, a hormonal imbalance, zero social life, blocked milk ducts, shit pension and reduced career prospects. But Peter's life had changed enough because he had reduced his hobby time. His job was the same, he still lived in his home town. I'd moved into his life, his hometown and neglected my plans to live abroad again, but I didn't matter. I was nothing to her. Peter's life had changed enough. Why all the pandering? What was she making up for? Is there a reason why nobody seems to want to upset Peter? The only reasons I can think of for her chronic avoidance of even minorly upsetting her son are fear and guilt. I'll never know the backstory and they'll never know mine because they've never cared to ask. 

I know that they know he's different.

But like Victorian parents, they stay out of Peter's business and stand back, quietly, perhaps approvingly, as he lives his newly found bachelor lifestyle, never saying a word. Maybe they think he's beyond help, or maybe, they're just glad to have him home.