You Can Learn A Lot from A Writer’s Titles

Dysfunction and bitterness as writing niches

Photo by Lacie Slezak on Unsplash

I just read a rambling tirade of supposition, pseudo-psychology, and hyperbole. Directed at me. And what was my crime?

I dared believe that when parents and children are estranged…it might not always be the parents’ fault.

I mean, how dare I?

Of course, in true Medium screed fashion, I must be estranged from my children, because crazy abusive parents like me are always persecuting poor truth-telling writers. Because — and this is my favorite — we love the cult more than our kids. What cult? Don’t ask me? I have no idea.

Here’s the funny part: I am close to my kids. Both of them. They are 24 and 26, and one of them is a contributing member here. We hang out, binge-watch shows and movies together, go to lunch, text things back and forth both funny and serious. When I had to put my sweet dog down last week, they both checked on me more than once. My kids are amazing people.

So sorry, there’s another paradigm shattered.

Now, for several years, I did have a stressful relationship with my parents. And honestly? It was every bit as much my fault as theirs. It might have been more my fault. I made assumptions. I hid from them, not trusting them to be able to “handle” certain truths…