Who had the most significant impact on the person you have become?

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user 188522

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Mine was my father. His constant beatings beat the self-esteem out of me. When I write beating, I might write torture. For example, after hitting me relentlessly, he held me up by the hair to the height of a light fixture, beat me some more, and dropped me to the ground. Hitting me was a nightly thing. My mom would say he beats you because he loves you. Years went by. Did I ask him why? Yes! He stormed out of my house and died the next day of a heart attack. I'm a borderline personality and now, later in life, a shut-in.
 
My father too. He only ever hit me once (...I was 8 yrs old and he came home from work in a bad mood...) but for 40+ years he gaslighted me continuously in multiple ways, direct and indirect, trying to induce me to think I was "stupid, immature,deficient, sneaky & secretive"...his words. Eventually I told myself that I didn't believe him. Eventually I retaliated...the methods evolved as I aged....but he never stopped enjoying his sadistic attempts to sabotage my own opinions of myself. Eight years before his death I calmly and politely suggested that I deserved a bit more respect. It didn't go well. The situation escalated with the result that he quickly scuttled away from me and locked himself in his bedroom.
Subsequently his gaslighting strategies went dormant for a few weeks but then resumed in a diluted, cautious way......but the balance of power had shifted. His vicious intentions were still there, he still wanted to discredit me in order to support his own fragile ego, but the potency, the authority of his will was diminished. I was defying him and getting away with it.....but nothing was really resolved.

And now? Twenty years after I saw his coffin go into the ground? His voice is still there in my head. Every day I engage in retaliatory dialogs with him. I also desecrate his grave in the same way that dogs mark their territory. It isn't over yet. The little ******* is still getting to me.
 
Mine was my father. His constant beatings beat the self-esteem out of me. When I write beating, I might write torture. For example, after hitting me relentlessly, he held me up by the hair to the height of a light fixture, beat me some more, and dropped me to the ground. Hitting me was a nightly thing. My mom would say he beats you because he loves you. Years went by. Did I ask him why? Yes! He stormed out of my house and died the next day of a heart attack. I'm a borderline personality and now, later in life, a shut-in.
I'm so sorry that happened to you.
 
My father too. He only ever hit me once (...I was 8 yrs old and he came home from work in a bad mood...) but for 40+ years he gaslighted me continuously in multiple ways, direct and indirect, trying to induce me to think I was "stupid, immature,deficient, sneaky & secretive"...his words. Eventually I told myself that I didn't believe him. Eventually I retaliated...the methods evolved as I aged....but he never stopped enjoying his sadistic attempts to sabotage my own opinions of myself. Eight years before his death I calmly and politely suggested that I deserved a bit more respect. It didn't go well. The situation escalated with the result that he quickly scuttled away from me and locked himself in his bedroom.
Subsequently his gaslighting strategies went dormant for a few weeks but then resumed in a diluted, cautious way......but the balance of power had shifted. His vicious intentions were still there, he still wanted to discredit me in order to support his own fragile ego, but the potency, the authority of his will was diminished. I was defying him and getting away with it.....but nothing was really resolved.

And now? Twenty years after I saw his coffin go into the ground? His voice is still there in my head. Every day I engage in retaliatory dialogs with him. I also desecrate his grave in the same way that dogs mark their territory. It isn't over yet. The little ******* is still getting to me.
I'm sorry that happened to you. What an *******!
 
It's really hard to say. It has always been common for me to pick up skills, knowledge, and traits from other people that are around me. When I get to know someone I find something I admire about them. Nearly everybody has something awesome about them. Then I talk to them about it and try to incorporate it into how I am. I always try to keep an open mind.

One that comes to mind is a former co-worker, a little older then me. He always came across very professional even if he was overwhelmed, confused, angry, or whatever. I asked him how he did it. He said whenever a situation came up he kept telling himself that he is a professional. So, I started doing that. And, it works. I would be ready to tell someone to go F themselves at work. But, then I would think about him and say to myself I am a professional. Then I would tell the person what they did / or said was inappropriate and it makes them appear immature in an authoritative voice. If I thought about screwing up a report on purpose to get back at someone I would stop myself and say I am a professional and do the report to the best of my abilities.
 
My father. Can't go into detail. Sometimes it seems preferable to not have been born than carry that little monster's genes. Every bit of my self-image was affected by him when I was younger.Sadly, he appears to have an 'involved dad' with his two other boys. I can imagine how screwed up they are because of that, and what he might have tried to get them involved in.

My mother used to say people live on in people's memories.Once he's in the ground (this world being what it is that probably won't be for decades) I'll make a point of remembering him for exactly what he was.
 
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My ex. I'm not going into details, but because of what happened in my marriage, I lost myself completely. Because of what happened, I hit rock bottom. Instead of staying there, I clawed my way out. I have since forgiven myself AND him for what happened and moved on from it.
It was the hardest thing I've ever done, but also the most worthwhile. I'm a better person, a better mom and I fight every day to make sure I never go back to what I was.
 
While I can't compare my unloving, dysfunctional family childhood to yours Lady Grey, I have had my share of contact with negative people. However, such people have not influenced or shaped me much. Contrary to the others here, I have a positive story.

As a child, my atheist dad took me to the local church and introduced me to a man that would become my Sunday School teacher. He developed my faith as a Christian, which has far surpassed any other people's influence on my life. Forty years later, after moving away, I showed up at his door unexpectedly one day and let him know what he had accomplished. Now, we're good friends and brothers in Christ.
 
Maybe my step dad. He definitely had an impact on me having anger issues, and having to unlearn many things. With family or whatever if I needed help, advice, encouragement, support, etc well then guess that’s what Google’s for 😃
 
For me…. Everything bad about me, was heavily “female” driven and influenced … almost all the women in my life as a child were sickos. Positive impact was dad, he had this way of making sure I was happy, even in death, he still has his way. Gonna visit his grave on the weekend like I do every 2 weeks and spend sometime washing it and caring for it… crying to it, maybe bring him some pink flowers to annoy him only joking… only blue and white for the “manly man” 😇
 
I don’t know if can really pinpoint one person, I was bullied by so many people as a child, including my own dad, that I can’t just pick one. However, I do have some positive role models that helped shape the more positive aspects of myself. I’ve always wanted and try to be like Rocky Balboa, a fictional character sure, but like him I try not to give up no matter how much of a beating I take or how stacked the odds are against me.
 
Tbh quite a few people, over two things.

First are the people who say one thing, but act differently. When I try to call them on something, they deny it. What I should have done was to STOP TALKING immediately, and as soon as possible, write down what happened.

The other was having to work so hard to get anyone to talk to me. After I started talking more, I lost the only quality that ever drew people to me: mysteriousness. What I should have done was find more hobbies to get into, and then attend gatherings or go places where I could do or talk about that thing with other people also involved in that hobby.

Well, maybe three. Someone I trusted would listen to me, and would always defend the other side. No matter what I said or explained, this person always made me feel like there was something I should have done differently, or that everything was in my head. Despite the fact that I always stuck up for that person and always tried to understand and work through their problems. I should have stopped confiding in this person. I give better advice than they do. I just have zero confidence.
 
The question was, "Who had the most significant impact on the person you have become?" so I'm taking this in a positive light.

The answer is my dad. Cliches aside, he was my hero. He was the kindest, most compassionate person I've known. He strugged through life in so many ways, right from an early age, yet he was never a bitter person nor carried hatred in his heart. He was forgiving, and generous and loved simple things in life. And when he wasn't ill, he had a wonderful sense of humour and playfulness. I miss him every day. It's because of him I try to "Keep Smiling!" every day of my life. :)
 
This one is really hard for me, because when I reflect on various people in my life, it's not really that they had an impact on me. It is how I reacted to them, that is what impacted me.
 
My father and grandmother. God rest their souls.

My father's story is too much to go into right now... perhaps another time.

He is in my thoughts and my heart, everyday. I just try to practice gratitude every single day for my ancestral lineage who are no longer here. They are the reason I'm here... other than the divine creator of course.
 
Mine was my father. His constant beatings beat the self-esteem out of me. When I write beating, I might write torture. For example, after hitting me relentlessly, he held me up by the hair to the height of a light fixture, beat me some more, and dropped me to the ground. Hitting me was a nightly thing. My mom would say he beats you because he loves you. Years went by. Did I ask him why? Yes! He stormed out of my house and died the next day of a heart attack. I'm a borderline personality and now, later in life, a shut-in.
My fourth grade teacher, Heather Treen. She inspired me to make a difference in my peer’s lives.
 

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