Lolu* (26) grew up with suffocatingly protective parents who controlled nearly every aspect of his life. He shares what life was like growing up with overbearing parents.
Since his family moved to America in 2024, he’s been pushing for more independence and imagining what his relationship with them will look like once he’s truly on his own.
This Lolu’s story as told to Betty:
The day I told my mother that she couldn’t dictate my life and decisions anymore, she looked genuinely confused and accused me of being disrespectful. It’s been an arduous journey freeing myself from a mother’s love that sometimes feels suffocating. But I’m glad it’s finally happening.
My parents have always been suffocatingly protective for as long as I can remember. I didn’t notice anything odd about how my younger sister and I were raised until secondary school, when I saw my mates were allowed to go out on their own.
They’ve always been obsessed with projecting a certain kind of “good image” to our extended family members and strangers, to the point that they try to control everything I do. Growing up, I had to follow a thousand rules and do a ton of chores — which by itself isn’t a bad thing — but I was hardly allowed to choose what I did with my free time. I couldn’t read novels or comics, only school books. TV, games and friends were never allowed. I did them in secret and paid dearly whenever I got caught. My dad buried himself in his work, so he wasn’t very involved in our lives, even though we lived in the same house. He supported my mum when needed, took us to school if it was his turn, paid his share of bills, but that was it. My mum enforced all the rules and most punishments, and consequently had complete access to my personal life.
As a teenager, she chose my clothes and seized my phone if she suspected wrongdoing. I grew up with lax boundaries, thinking that if someone had power over you, they could invade your privacy or do anything to you. I’m only just learning what is acceptable and what isn’t when it comes to my personal boundaries.
Because of my strict upbringing, I had few friends since I couldn’t visit them or spend time on social media. I eventually found an escape in art, drawing my emotions and expressing myself as a way to keep my mind busy. But my parents hated that, too. They discouraged me, but I continued to create in secret.
I assumed they treated me like they did because I was a child, and children had to listen to their parents. So, I spent a lot of my teenage years daydreaming about becoming an adult and taking charge of my life.
But I was wrong, it only got worse.
When I graduated from secondary school in 2018, I didn’t get to choose my desired course at the university. My mum wanted me to study engineering, so engineering it was.
I went to a private university and had little freedom there either, but I was used to it. However, I soon realised something was odd when my coursemates talked about how relaxed things were at home compared to school. They could visit their friends, and some even had sleepovers. Hearing their experiences gave me the courage to challenge my parents whenever they tried to keep me in the house. I visited friends for the first time in 2020. There was a strict curfew attached, but it was the first step in standing up for myself. Fast forward to 2024, my family emigrated to America. I was elated. America had always been touted as the free country, so I thought I’d finally get more autonomy and figure out what I wanted in life. Unfortunately, nothing changed. Every time I stated my opinion or said I wanted to do something simple like go to the gym, my mum immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. “What if a drunk driver hits you on the way to the gym? You should stay at home.” It made simple conversations unbearable because she always had to be right.
These experiences have taken a stab on my person. At 26, I still don’t know what real autonomy looks like. Sometimes I tell my friends I need my parents’ permission to do something, and they look shocked. I also don’t know my parents as individuals. To me, they’re just “mummy” and “daddy”. I’ve tried to have deeper conversations about their principles and choices, but they always dismiss me like an overly curious child. Our relationship won’t improve until they see me as a capable adult. But how can I prove that if they won’t give me the chance?
Since we moved to America, the friction has gotten worse due to my insistence on exercising free will.
This isn’t to say I don’t love my parents. I appreciate everything they’ve done for me. I just don’t like that they don’t treat me like an adult. I have tried speaking to them calmly, but they don’t want to let go. They only back down when I raise my voice or argue bitterly. My sister said getting a job would help, but it hasn’t. We’ve remained in the same tiring cycle.
I’ve decided to focus on the future. I daydream about life a year from now, when I will have saved enough to get my own apartment. Once I move out, I’ll keep the relationship distant, only rare visits and bi-weekly calls. I don’t want anyone yelling at me for spending a free Saturday creating art. I don’t want to have to explain myself every time I step out of the house. I just want to be my own person, with my own rules and my own moral compass.
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