My Boyfriend and I Both Had Traumatic Childhoods. He Has an Absurd Proposal for How We Can “Heal.”

Care and Feeding Photo illustration by Slate. photo by bernardbodo/Adobe Stock. Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting advice column. Have a question for Care and Feeding? Submit it here. Dear Care and Feeding, My boyfriend and I both have very abusive backgrounds. He was in foster care and never really knew his parents. Mine both had affairs; my mother would sometimes disappear without a trace, while my dad dealt with me haphazardly. I basically raised myself from the age of 10, which left me with no desire to ever inflict that trauma on the next generation. My boyfriend agreed with me until recently. We both struggle with mental health, and he has been going to a religious support group rather than see his therapist more. He has started talking about how it would be good for us to have kids and “heal” the harm our parents did to us. We’ve had to give away pets because the pair of us couldn’t confidently take care of them. You can’t do that to a kid. How do I talk to him through this nonsense? —Not Kidding Dear Not Kidding, I get why it’s shocking to hear this from your boyfriend when the two of you have always been in agreement about not wanting kids. Of course, people change all the time, and are also allowed to change their minds about what they want. But it would also trip all my alarms to hear him talking about children in terms of “healing” the trauma you’ve both experienced—that’s not what kids are for! Even if there were some healing aspects to raising your own children, it would also be hard and potentially triggering as hell at times, and it’s wrong to expect your kids to fix your grown-up issues. Since you wrote to ask for advice, I’m starting from the assumption that you do care about your boyfriend’s feelings and want to talk this through first, not necessarily run for the hills just yet. If that’s the case, while you should be very clear about your own feelings and wants, you probably don’t want to lead with “this is nonsense and you need to get over it.” If he’s not an unserious person by nature, do him the courtesy of taking him seriously, or as seriously as you can. I’d probably start by asking him to tell you more about why he’s been having second thoughts about the whole kid question. Try to listen and understand where some of this might be coming from, for him. Of course it’s also important to be clear and consistent about what you want. Listening is not agreeing! He needs to listen to and respect you, understand your point of view, and hear what you want, too. And he shouldn’t walk away from these conversations thinking that you’re open to kids when you’re not. But I think there’s probably space for you to acknowledge what he may be thinking and weighing and feeling and moving through—to be a supportive partner and sounding board, in other words—without agreeing that babies ought to be in your future. I’m not sure, but it seems like you also believe the religious support group may have something to do with him rethinking children. If you’re really concerned about that, or its role in his life, you could try to discuss that with him, too (again, not necessarily starting with “it’s nonsense,” but perhaps with “what role do you think it’s filling for you?” or “what do you think about whether or how it’s influencing your views?”). You do not have to agree with what he says he wants just because you care about him—and really, he might not be certain of what he wants at this point!—but you can hear him, and ask that he hear you, and then maybe this will be something you talk about and work through together instead of something that drives you apart. Please keep questions short (<150 words), and don’t submit the same question to multiple columns. We are unable to edit or remove questions after publication. Use pseudonyms to maintain anonymity. Your submission may be used in other Slate advice columns and may be edited for publication. Dear Care and Feeding, My daughter gave up her children for adoption years ago. I don’t know all the details. She asked me to not ask her anything about it, so I didn’t. She died five years ago. Now one of her children has reached out to me on social media, saying she would like to talk with me if I am open to it. I truly am not. That was a dark time in my daughter’s life—mental illness, suicide attempts, hospital stays—and I do not want to relive it. Do I just not respond? Should I try to explain my reasons to her? Or should I just answer her questions and not meet? It’s been so long, and I really don’t remember much at all. I am in my 70s now, and I want to honor my daughter’s wishes not to talk about it. —Wondering Dear Wondering, You did honor your daughter’s wishes, many years ago, by not asking her for details about the children she placed for adoption. Unless I’m misunderstanding your letter, your daughter did not ask you not to speak of the adoptions at all, ever, to anyone. Nor did she ask you not to speak with her biological children if they ever reached out to you. Given that she has now passed away, what you want and also feel is right to do in this situation should carry the most weight—along with whatever you think your biological grandchild might need or deserve in terms of information. You’re the only one who can make this decision, since you’ll be the one who has to live with the consequences of telling her either yes or no. I hear that you aren’t really open to talking or meeting with her, and I understand why. If I were in your place, I think I might still be a little curious about why this person is reaching out. She might want information about the mother she didn’t know or doesn’t remember, or about the adoption decision that set her life on a different path. She might be dealing with a health issue, in which case it could be not just helpful but vital for her to know more about her family medical history (for what it’s worth, I’m an adoptee who sought more information about my birth family when I was pregnant, partly because I knew that my birth mother had gone into labor dangerously early). My point is just that I think I’d want to know the stakes for your biological grandchild, and whether a response could actually make a big difference in her life. That said: If it doesn’t matter to you what she wants or why, it is in your power to close the door entirely. You can do that by simply telling her that you’re not open to talking, and you don’t want to be in further contact. You can try to offer an explanation if you want to, though I don’t think it would matter much either way, since the end result for her (no communication and no information) would be the same, regardless of your reasons. There’s also the last option you raised, which represents a middle ground of sorts. If you aren’t willing to meet or talk, but would be open to trying to answer some of her questions in writing—which would allow you to maintain some privacy, choose your words very carefully, and respond in your own time—you could suggest that. There’s more I could say, I suppose, from my perspective as the one who was given up and eventually felt a real need for information about my personal and medical history. But adoption is complicated, and it doesn’t feel like my place to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do for your biological grandchild; that’s for you to decide. That she was raised by another family wasn’t your choice any more than it was hers, and you aren’t automatically obligated to speak with or write to her. I would just add that even if you don’t know all the details, or don’t want to tell her everything you do remember, you probably do have information that she cannot get any other way—information that could prove meaningful to her, should you choose to share it. —Nicole More Parenting Advice From Slate My husband and I are friends with a lovely couple. We have many things in common and enjoy hanging out with them. The problem is their kid. They have a son the same age as our younger son and the boys like hanging out with each other. At first that seemed like a great bonus to this friendship. But the longer we’ve been friends, the clearer it has become that their kid is a horrible person. Never miss new Slate Advice columns Get the latest from Prudie and our columnists in your inbox each weekday, plus special bonus letters on Saturdays. Advice Family Kids