Grieving a Parent Who Both Loved and Hurt You
Hey Boo,
When we talk about grief, people often assume it is straightforward.
Someone we love passes away, and we miss them. But what happens when the person we lost was also the person who wounded us? What happens when the memories are both beautiful and painful?
What happens when the person we are grieving is a parent?
For many people, losing a parent brings not only crushing sadness but also confusion, anger, relief, guilt, compassion, regret, and longing. These emotions can coexist even when they feel contradictory.
And yet, society rarely talks about this kind of grief. We are often expected to remember only the good, focus on gratitude, and avoid discussing the more complicated parts of the relationship. But healing requires honesty.
The Parent You Loved and the Parent Who Hurt You
One of the most difficult truths to hold is that a person can love you and still hurt you. Many of us were raised to believe that love automatically means safety, understanding, and emotional support. Unfortunately, that isn’t always the reality. Some parents loved their children deeply but lacked the emotional tools, self-awareness, or healing necessary to nurture them in healthy ways.
Some parents carried their own wounds. Some repeated patterns they learned from previous generations. And some caused pain they never fully acknowledged.
Recognizing these truths does not erase the love that existed. It simply allows for the full story.
Why Grief Can Feel So Complicated
When a parent dies, we are not only grieving who they were. Sometimes we are grieving who we hoped they would become.
We may also mourn:
The apology we never received.
The conversation(s) we never had.
The understanding or acceptance we longed for.
The relationship we wished could have existed.
This kind of grief is layered. There is grief for the parent we had, and grief for the parent we needed. Both losses deserve acknowledgment.
The Guilt of Telling the Truth
Many adult children carry guilt when they speak honestly about a parent who has passed away. They worry that acknowledging their pain is disrespectful. They fear being seen as ungrateful. They wonder if they should simply focus on the positive. But honesty is not the same thing as condemnation.
You can appreciate the sacrifices someone made and still acknowledge the wounds you carry. You can recognize their humanity without minimizing your own experience. Your healing does not require rewriting history.
But…That’s not How I Remember it.
Another challenge can arise when siblings have different experiences of the same parent. One sibling may remember warmth and support. Another may remember criticism, emotional neglect, or instability. Neither experience is necessarily wrong. Parents often show different sides of themselves to different children. This can make conversations about grief especially difficult.
You may feel isolated in your truth. You may worry about upsetting others. You may also find yourself carrying your emotions quietly to avoid conflict.
If this resonates with you, know that your experience is still valid. You do not need unanimous agreement for your feelings to matter.
Healing Without Erasing the Past
Healing does not require you to choose between love and truth. It asks you to make room for both. You can remember the good times. You can cherish the memories that bring comfort. You can hold compassion for your parents’ struggles.
And you can acknowledge the ways you were hurt.
These realities are not opposites. They are pieces of the same story.
A Gentle Reminder
If you are grieving a parent who both loved and hurt you, please know this:
You are not disloyal for telling the truth. You are not ungrateful for acknowledging your pain. You are not a bad person for having mixed emotions. Grief is rarely simple.
Sometimes healing begins when we stop trying to force our feeling into neat categories and allow ourselves to hold the complexity of being human.
You are allowed to love them.
You are allowed to miss them.
You are allowed to hurt.
And you are allowed to heal.
Until next time Boo, keep Glowing…
Reflection Question:
What would change if I gave myself permission to honor both the love I received and the pain I experienced- without feeling guilty for either?