They Kicked Me Out at 16—Now They’re Old, and I Just Don’t Care
You were sixteen—still a kid, still learning, still testing boundaries like most teens do. You say you were a handful, but not in any serious or dangerous way. Then one day, your dad gave you a twenty, drove you to a transit station, and just said “see ya.” That was it. No plan, no safety net. You were on your own. You ended up sleeping on the streets for two nights and one day until a childhood friend let you crash at their place. Four days later, your dad came to get you—but only because your mom told him to. They never apologized. There was no heart-to-heart. Just “let’s go.”
It’s been decades since then. You’ve grown up, lived life, maybe built a career, started your own family. But now your parents are aging and you’re standing at this emotional crossroads. They’re older, maybe vulnerable, and there’s a cultural expectation to care for them. But all you can feel is distance—maybe even coldness. You ask, “Am I the asshole for not really caring about them as they get older?” That question is heavy. But the honest answer is—no. You’re not. Your feelings come from somewhere real, and they deserve to be explored, not dismissed.
When children feel betrayed by their parents, they might struggle to regain the trust they once had in them
The poster had been a troublemaker at sixteen, but he had never done anything that bad, so he was shocked when his parents randomly kicked him out
Abandonment trauma is real and long-lasting
What happened to you wasn’t just a “tough love” moment—it was abandonment. Kicking out a 16-year-old with $20 and no plan isn’t discipline. It’s neglect. High CPC keywords like parental neglect, childhood trauma effects, and abandonment trauma recovery point to exactly how much harm that kind of experience can cause.
When kids are pushed out too early, they lose their sense of security. The foundation of trust with parents—the people who are supposed to protect you—is shattered. That kind of break doesn’t heal on its own. It lives inside your body and mind. It shows up years later when you try to form relationships, or when you’re expected to care about the same people who made you feel disposable.
Research from childhood trauma studies shows that experiences like yours increase the risk of depression, anxiety, low self-worth, and trust issues well into adulthood (source). So no, you’re not imagining the damage. You’re feeling it—deeply.
Cultural guilt and emotional obligations
One of the biggest pressures many people feel—especially from certain cultural or religious backgrounds—is the unspoken rule: You must take care of your parents when they’re old. That’s where terms like elder care responsibility, filial duty, and moral guilt in caregiving come into play.
But caregiving isn’t just physical help—it’s emotional too. And it’s really hard to emotionally care for people who once left you behind. It doesn’t make you a bad person if that emotional connection just isn’t there anymore. In fact, it’s pretty human.
The thing is, you’re probably not heartless. If you were, you wouldn’t be wrestling with this. You’d feel nothing. But the fact that you’re even asking this question means part of you still hopes for a connection—or at least a resolution. That inner tug-of-war is grief, not guilt.
They gave advice later—but does that undo the past?
You mention your parents gave you good advice over the years. And sure—that counts for something. But it’s also not enough to erase being left to survive on your own at 16. It’s like someone setting your house on fire and later offering you fire safety tips. Thanks, but the damage is already done.
Words without accountability don’t heal wounds. If they never apologized, never acknowledged how terrifying and painful that experience was for you, then it’s fair that you’re emotionally closed off now. Healing doesn’t come from surface-level advice—it comes from acknowledgment, validation, and emotional repair. Those things take effort—and if they never tried, it’s okay to not want to try now.
Can you forgive them? Do you even want to?
Forgiveness is another loaded word. It’s tied to high CPC topics like forgiveness therapy, emotional healing from family betrayal, and rebuilding trust after abandonment. But here’s the truth: forgiveness isn’t about saying what happened was okay. It’s about releasing yourself from the emotional grip it has on you.
That doesn’t mean you owe them a relationship. You can forgive someone and still choose not to let them back in. You can say, “I accept what happened, I see it for what it was, and I choose peace for myself.” Whether or not you ever share that with them is up to you.
Some people heal by reconnecting. Others heal by stepping back for good. There’s no right way. You get to decide.
Are you heartless if you feel distant now?
No. Feeling nothing now doesn’t mean you’re cruel. It means your brain built emotional walls to protect you from pain. That’s a trauma response. And it’s normal.
In fact, the psychology of detachment says that emotional numbness often shows up in people who experienced emotional or physical neglect. Your mind learns to survive by switching off feelings that once overwhelmed you. Over time, you stop expecting anything good from certain people—and that includes love, care, or even respect.
So yeah—it makes sense you feel disconnected now. That was the survival mechanism you needed back then. And it’s probably still active now.
What if you want to care—but just…can’t?
Here’s the thing: you don’t need to force yourself to care out of guilt. If something in you wants to reconnect but doesn’t know how, start small. That could mean having a conversation with a therapist about what “care” could look like on your terms. Maybe you set boundaries. Maybe you write a letter you never send. Maybe you allow tiny check-ins, but protect your emotional space.
Or maybe you decide that “caring” looks like making sure they have basic needs met, but nothing deeper. That’s also valid. You’re not obligated to perform emotional closeness just because it’s expected of you.
What does healing look like—for you?
Healing doesn’t mean forgetting. It means finding a place where the pain doesn’t control you anymore. That might look like:
- Talking about your story without crying or feeling angry
- Accepting that your parents will never be the people you needed
- Creating your own chosen family or support network
- Reclaiming the sense of safety that was once taken from you
And most of all, healing might mean giving yourself permission to feel exactly what you feel—without shame.
People sided with the poster and told him it was completely his decision to forgive them or not, and that he didn’t have to do it if he didn’t want to
So are you the asshole for not really caring about your parents as they age?
No. You’re a human being who was failed by the people who were supposed to protect you. Your hurt is valid. Your hesitation is understandable. And your boundaries are yours to set.
If anything, this story shows how deeply you’ve thought about it, how much it still weighs on you. That says you do care—maybe not in the way they hoped, but in the way that matters most: with honesty, self-awareness, and the desire to heal.
