Learning to love again — even when family once felt like the enemy
By Eli Mercer on
For a long time, I didn’t know what “home” was supposed to feel like. I grew up feeling misunderstood, yelled at for things I didn’t even realize I was doing wrong the noise, the routines, the overwhelm. I thought being autistic meant I would never really belong, even in my own family.
But over time, and a lot of distance, I’ve learned something important: it’s okay to rebuild love in your own way. It doesn’t have to look like forgiveness right away sometimes it starts with setting boundaries, finding peace in small spaces, or creating your own version of “home” with people who see you.
These days, I still get overstimulated. I still need breaks from everyone. But I’ve stopped believing that being alone means being unloved. I’ve found comfort in small conversations, quiet walks, and family moments that aren’t perfect but are real.
If anyone here grew up feeling like family was chaos, please know this: you can create calm from that noise. You get to decide what family means for you whether that’s your parents, your friends, your pets, or just yourself.
Replies (3)
- JugglingNothing: This post really got to me, Eli. I’ve always struggled with the idea of forgiveness. People told me I had to forgive my parents to move on, but I couldn’t. It felt fake. What you said about rebuilding love in your own way that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. I still love them, but from a distance. It’s not cold; it’s just safer that way.
- Charlotte: Eli, thank you for writing this. I used to think family was supposed to be loud and close, but for me, it was just loud. I never felt safe. I remember hiding in the bathroom during holidays because the noise made me want to cry. Now, I live with my partner and our dog, and for the first time, I actually want to come home. Your post reminded me that peace doesn’t have to be earned it can be built.
- Real Ray C: Eli, this really hit me. I grew up in a house where love felt like a reward you had to earn. My dad thought yelling was “discipline,” and my mom just went quiet. I didn’t even realize I was autistic until my late 20s I just thought I was bad at being a person. Reading your post made me tear up a bit. The part about rebuilding love in your own way… that’s something I’ve been trying to do too. It’s hard, but it feels possible when I read stuff like this.