My family loves the Caroline that was sick; the one that had zero respect for herself and no boundaries. I was at their beck and call, and I would let them walk all over me. After every fight I was the one who had to apologize no matter what because I let them convince me I was a monster. I have spent my entire life trying to please my parents and family. My whole life has been built around me trying to make them happy. I followed the exact path I was supposed to according to them. I went to college, got my degree, got married, then had kids in that order.

Growing up, I tried so hard to be the daughter my parents would be proud to call theirs. I tried to be perfect in school, get good grades, and follow rules that would please my parents. No matter how hard I tried to be the perfect Caroline for my parents, for some reason I couldn’t get it right. A little step out of line, or a mistake that I made behaviorally, socially, or academically would not be forgotten. As I got older, I started to want my independence, as most teenagers do. I would get into angry arguments with my parents; I never felt heard. With time, those arguments didn’t happen as much, but my dad always compares my siblings to me during those times. “You are turning into Caroline,” he says. He doesn’t know how much that hurts. It’s as if I’m the worst kind of monster you could be.

I was always told that you had to go to school, go to college, get married then have kids. I followed this exact path to please my parents. I was lucky to have found the best boyfriend you could ever have when I was a senior in high school. We stayed together all throughout my time at college. I will never forget telling my mom I wanted to go to a resort one weekend for his birthday when I was 21. She got so angry because we were not married. I felt so embarrassed that I was being yelled at even though I was an adult. This was another mistake that made me a monster to my parents.

After graduating college and becoming a teacher, I got married to my then boyfriend and had two beautiful daughters, just like I was supposed to. This was not good enough for my dad because I quit my teaching career to stay home with my daughters. I spent a year in therapy trying to work through what was more important to me, and my husband and I agreed staying home was most important. My dad couldn’t believe that I would want to stay home and do that to my husband by making him work. Even though my husband and I agreed on me staying home, my dad thought I was a monster. I had deviated from the path he expected me to follow.

After my first daughter was born, I fell into a deep hole of postpartum OCD. I actually thought I was the worst kind of monster, a murderer. My family had made me feel like I was a monster for so long that I convinced myself I was one and would disappoint them even more. I remember telling my parents my biggest fear was becoming “Andrea Yates,” and my mom was horrified. My parents told me I would lose my daughter because of this, which wasn’t true. It took me so much courage to say what I had been battling. What hurt the most was after all I had done to please my parents, they looked at me as if I were an actual monster and were so quick to condemn me.

In therapy for postpartum OCD, I spent a year learning to see myself for who I really am, an actual human being. I am a good person who is loyal, kind, and funny. I am a fantastic mom to my daughters. My therapist helped me undo years of unhealthy behaviors in order to respect myself. This meant I had to learn how to set boundaries. I had never had any boundaries with anyone. Setting boundaries with my family has been the hardest because it disappoints them. My grandma has been in and out of the hospital lately. I live next to her, and I know she needs help, but I can’t give as much as I would normally because I have two little girls who need me. I have tried to do as much as I can, because I love my grandma.

Last week, at one of my grandma’s appointments, my dad called me on speaker phone to tell me he and my grandma decided that I would take her to an appointment next week that was an hour away. I wasn’t even asked; I was told. I had to say that I couldn’t take my 4 month old breastfed baby to a doctor appointment an hour away for my grandma. I felt bad even doing that, and my dad sent me the meanest text I have gotten in my whole life. Basically he thinks I’m a monster for saying I couldn’t go. My dad only likes me when I do what is expected from me. I was devastated by his text.

Before my postpartum OCD, I would have gone crawling back to my family begging them to forgive me, but not this time. I did nothing wrong. I am not a monster. I’m a normal human with feelings, and I am allowed to set boundaries, even with my family. I refuse to allow people to treat me how I have been treated in the past. I deserve to be respected by my family. I am a person who makes mistakes like anyone else, and when I do, I apologize. I try to be the person my daughters would be proud of, but most importantly, I want to be the person that I can love and respect. I am not a monster.