Mine varies from like 4 to -5, with random flucturations into -7 to -8. I’d say it averages out at like -1.
I honestly don’t know–because I’m a faulty narrator. I dont know which issues are real, or which are in my head. What’s for certain, though, is I never got the support I needed, and I’m barely accepted as a woman.
2, my parents were cool when i was little. my mom got sick when i was eight y/o. i suffered because of it for a decade.
if it wasn’t for my mum, it would at least be a 4 though :)
or rather, a 6, my dad was pretty cool :D
+5. My parents had a healthy relationship and didn’t divorce until well after I moved out. We were lower middle class, but in the first world that means you have a pretty good life. I’m an autist so social life was a nightmare, and while I didn’t think adults were going to abuse me I did think their authority and institutions were illegitimate which caused some conflict.
I’d say an 8 or a 9, it was a pretty idyllic childhood. Both my parents were pretty great, we only had a few major disagreements/arguments that I can recall. I had a good group of friends and had no trouble getting along with anyone.
We were solidly middle class never had any needs unmet. Didn’t get everything I wanted but certainly didn’t lack either. Generally I felt loved and encouraged, maybe too much but not in a spoiled way. I always had to do chores mow lawn, wash dishes, walk the dog cook once a week as I got older, etc. I had a job senior year of HS to earn spending money but they also paid for half my car (I think 3000 out of 6000). They had saved up some money for college but what would have been enough for 4 years when I was born only covered a year by the time I went to college.
IDK it was pretty good overall. Looking back and at how people turned out I think my parents did a good job compared to a lot of others.
-9. Father was an abusive alcoholic monster who ruined friendships and activities like baseball by fighting with parents early on in life. My mother was/is a workaholic with a tendency to be neglectful of emotions as I got older. I was often left alone to care for my younger brothers. Brothers who left to their own devices became little monsters themselves by falling into drugs and alcohol both before 14.
My childhood ended at 14. I’m 33 now at probably the lowest point of my life. Because, except for my Dad, we still live together. All those years in between 14 and now I learned to cope by reducing myself to nothing. Be quiet. Don’t move. Stay in my room. Don’t be a burden. Unfortunately I’m at two extremes where I feel safest in that reduced state but everything in me wants to leave. Even if it means living in the streets. That’s my trap. That’s how my childhood has me by the throat even now.
It really depends on the reference. 0 today is not the same as 0 was when I grew up. By the standards then, it was probably a 4, but by today’s standards it would be in the negatives, -2or so.
I would rate it a 0 or -1. My therapist would rate it a -9 or -10.
Interesting that your therapist is adamant that your conditions were worse than you perceive them to be.
I’ve never had a therapist, but I had a traumatic upbringing. I’d rate my childhood -5; what would a therapist think of my past, I wonder?
Well, I thought my upbringing was normal and that everybody was physically and emotionally abused. It turns out that this is incorrect.
Every child’s experience is normal to them until they start comparing notes, often later in life
4 with ambivalence. One parent was no good. The other was good but didn’t defend us much.
Fact that might be useful… research varies on whether psychological abuse or sexual abuse is the most destructive in childhood. Psychological changes how you think, how you attribute meaning to events and you’re ability to regulate your emotions. It’s not just words
+3 or so, benign neglect, with unavoidable trauma. My dad died when I was a teenager and that sucked, my mom fell apart, also she was diagnosed bipolar and I didn’t enjoy being a child at all, but do honestly believe my mom did her best, and we were fed, housed, schooled, (ETA including sports! She was big on physical fitness, and that is something that absolutely ended up improving my adult life, once I recovered from my own disordered/restrictive eating) and not interfered with much beyond that.
What score would the over-involved helicopter parents of my kids’ friends land on this scale, though? Those kids aren’t spoiled exactly but certainly not neglected.
Damn, that’s a good question. Like a 6 or 7 on this scale, all told? Parents were good, wasn’t spoiled but didn’t want for much, some tension with my dad at times/impact of necessary absences due to military lifestyle, but he was generally a good dude.
Idk - I look back on my childhood fondly more or less.
Why would being spoiled rate highly? It’s a bad thing.
I’d rate mine a 10 but because of independence. My parents gave me both the trust and the skills to do what I wanted to do. I biked all over town, didn’t need to check in outside of mealtimes, read the whole library, went to museums and concerts and dances. I taught myself to type and then to program. It was fantastic.
I wasn’t spoiled, though. We didn’t have any spare money, so anything I wanted to do I had to pay for myself; I was babysitting and mowing lawns from a young age. I had my chores at home including taking care of my brothers. I had food, if not my favorites, and clothes, though mostly hand-me-downs from cousins. Any electronics in the house were shared, and either bought used or received as gifts from most distant relatives. But stuff isn’t what makes childhood great: friends, freedom, and family are.
Without delving, I’m guessing a solid -6 on that scale, here. I’ve done a fairly bang-up job of climbing up from that point, but w/o health insurance, etc., that’s gonna be a challenge for the ages.
-5, my parent tried but the whole situation was ugly.
I think if I was born now, I’d be much better off. Medical knowledge was ass back in the day.
10, hands down. I was (and still am) raised by a single dad. He’s great. He’s non-monogamous/non-committal (or just aloof, you could say), so at home I’ve always had all of his attention to myself. I’m a total daddy’s girl.
