Why are our parents so toxic? What do they gain from calling their children names, insulting them, and shaming them for making independent choices?
While scrolling through Facebook recently, I came across a post that perfectly captured the strained relationships many young adults—especially women—have with their parents when it comes to moving out.
A young woman shared a story about her friend who had been planning to move out of her mother’s house. She felt grown and ready for the next phase of her life, so she hinted to her mother about getting her place, expecting at least an open discussion. Instead, her mother exploded in anger, accusing her of pursuing promiscuity. The young woman was devastated. She couldn’t believe that the person who was supposed to love and support her unconditionally was instead tearing her down. This story, unfortunately, is not unique. Many young women in African households are met with suspicion and judgment when they express a desire to live independently.
For parents, a daughter moving out is often equated with irresponsibility, immorality or rebellion. Instead of seeing it as a natural step towards adulthood, they assume the worst.
When I first told my mother that I was considering moving out, I was met with hostility. Instead of support, I was interrogated about whether there was a man who would be paying my rent. My mother also accused me of hiding money from her, assuming that if I could afford to live alone, then I must have been secretly earning more than I let on.
She outright told me that moving out would turn me into a prostitute. The idea that I would suddenly start bringing men over simply because I lived alone was ridiculous, yet she seemed to believe it wholeheartedly.
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This wasn’t the first time my mother had used demeaning words towards me. One time, I was wearing a pair of shorts—shorts that she had bought me herself in an attempt to make me more feminine. She had seen me wear them before without issue. But on this particular day, she suddenly changed her tone. “Why are you dressed like a corner girl?” she asked.
I was too shocked to respond. How could she say something so cruel? When I finally gathered the courage to ask her why she would call me that instead of simply expressing that she didn’t like the outfit, she stood by her words. “Corner girls are the only ones who dress like that,” she insisted.
The pain of hearing such words from my own mother was something I couldn’t shake off. To escape the constant conflicts, I moved into my father’s house. For a while, things were peaceful, but now I face another challenge.
My father is growing impatient, constantly reminding me that I should move out and be independent like other young women my age.
Every time he goes out and meets women my age—some of whom are his friends—he sees their “progress” and wonders why he is still feeding a twenty-something-year-old in his house.
“You should start buying your own things by now,” he says, turning my living situation into a daily lecture.
Ironically, while one parent fights against my moving out, the other is frustrated that I haven’t left yet. The biggest obstacle, however, is that I am already paying rent for my mother’s house. If I were to move out, it would mean paying for two houses, a financial burden that makes little sense. But for my mental health, I know that one day, I must leave.
It is deeply frustrating how African parents impose their own insecurities and past regrets onto their children.
Maybe they saw a friend or a relative make mistakes, or perhaps they regret their own choices from when they were younger. Instead of having open discussions about personal growth and responsibility, they assume that we will repeat the worst patterns.
It is exhausting to be constantly doubted, to have our choices questioned before we even make them.
When parents use shame and threats instead of conversation, they push their children away. It only breeds resentment.
