Your Parents Raised a Woman Who Disagrees

It is okay to disagree with a parent. It was okay when you were eight, too, whatever the house said. Maybe the rule in your house was that good girls don’t argue. And that rule never came with an age it stopped at. So where does the sentence go, the one that was ready by the salad? Back down…past the gravy…to wherever it lives between visits. Some visits end with it still unsaid.

---

Afraid of a parent, rather than tired of holding your tongue around one? That isn’t a disagreement. Nothing below is for that night. 988 is the crisis line. It answers a call or a text at any hour, with a counselor on the other end. 911 is for danger right now, or a medical emergency. Both numbers are on my contact page.

Where the sentence goes

In some ways, we were taught it as manners, the kind that come with the napkin in the lap. A girl who learned those manners well could read a room, swallow a sentence and keep the peace before she could ride a bike. She was doing exactly what was asked of her. The skill is real. It is just pointed the wrong way now, at a table that is safe, long after the rule was set.

Does that make you a bad daughter?

It makes you a daughter with opinions. That is still a daughter! Maybe you’re skipping the tradition this year, or doing the holiday your way. Maybe you’ve changed your mind about a belief you were raised with, or raised an eyebrow at advice you never asked for. None of that is contempt. You get a say. You had one at eight too. It just wasn’t being counted.

Does it take a speech?

It doesn’t have to be more than one sentence, said once, in a plain voice. Then nothing more. “I’d rather not.” “We’re doing it our way this year.” “I’ve decided.” No defense, no essay, no sorry for having a view.

If the old reflex fires and the sentence starts to go back down, you can leave the table and come back to the subject later, tomorrow if it takes tomorrow. That isn’t a surrender. It is choosing your moment. If the parent is one you’re afraid of, this is not your paragraph. The numbers above are.

---

Will they like it? Probably not. That’s theirs to feel. It doesn’t mean you wronged them. You can keep them and keep your own mind, as long as keeping them is safe. If it isn’t, the numbers above are yours. The rule said you couldn’t have both. The rule was wrong about that, the way it was wrong about the age limit.

---

So, if you’re ready, try this. Pick the smallest disagreement you’ve been swallowing, like the thermostat or how long the gravy takes. Say it once, in a plain voice, the next time it comes up. Why the smallest? Because small is the point. The big ones may get easier once a small one has come out and the lights stayed on.

If the parent is one you’re afraid of, leave this one alone. The second paragraph is yours instead.

---

If a boundary with them is where this goes, boundaries with family has its own post. If asking for anything is the hard part, the asking itself has one too. I help women with the patterns that show up with the people closest to them. You can read more about me on the About page.

At a table that is safe, the sentence may well be ready by the salad again next visit. This time it can come out before the gravy, short, in the voice you use for everything else.

When you’re ready, request a time or write to me.

On solid ground,

Acelli