Like Quentin Tarantino, I would never let my toxic mom share in my success

Society teaches us that cutting out your mother is the worst thing that you can ever do, and that a mother’s love is unconditional. But for people like me, nothing could be further from the truth

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When Quentin Tarantino spoke about his upbringing on The Moment podcast, I was surprised to find myself agreeing with him. The director described how his mother had never supported him in his writing and had actively tried to punish him for pursuing what he loved. He recalled one specific moment when his mother had said to him, “This little ‘writing career’ that you’re doing? That s**t is over,” and added: “When she said that to me in that sarcastic way, I go, ‘OK, lady, when I become a successful writer, you will never see penny one from my success. There will be no house for you. There’s no vacation for you, no Elvis Cadillac for mommy. You get nothing. Because you said that.’”

“There are consequences for your words as you deal with your children,” he added.

As a fat, disabled, queer, immigrant, femme person of color, I have little in common with Tarantino on the surface. But much like Tarantino, I had writing ambitions from a young age which were not remotely encouraged. As I am certain many from immigrant families will be able to understand, I was made to feel as if success only looked like becoming a doctor or a lawyer. As it became clear that I struggled with math and science, but excelled in writing and the social sciences, I distinctly remember sharing dreams of being a writer, which my mother mocked.

While I may never be able to afford such extravagant gifts as a house or a Cadillac, my mother does not deserve even the most minuscule token of appreciation for her behavior. I certainly would not bail her out of any financial challenges — as Tarantino says he did with his mother when she had some “trouble with the IRS” — no matter what the impact on her.

As my career has developed, my mother has conveniently reached out to apologize for any harm she may have caused me, as if kicking me out of her house with a broken wrist and a sprained ankle can be easily fixed with a quick, typed apology. At that time, family members told me she’d said she hoped I suffered.

I bounced from house to house and relative to relative as a vulnerable 21-year-old. I remember telling an aunt who wanted to drive me back to my mother’s house that I would go to a shelter before returning there; I just didn’t feel safe going back.

Just as Tarantino’s ability to succeed was underestimated, so was mine during a time of crisis. I didn’t receive the support I needed — but I built a successful career and supported myself.

Too often, people like me are met with the societal narrative about virtuous mothers. Mothers deserve our love no matter what they’ve done, goes this toxic thinking, and anyone who chooses to cut their mean mom out their life must be unstable and unfeeling. Since going no-contact with my own mother, I’ve worked with countless other people who have had to cut out a parent and are suffering with terrible guilt. I am committed to disrupting this problematic notion that family trumps everything; that kind of thinking is so often used to gaslight people who have had terrible childhoods, and especially those people from marginalized identities.

The myth persists that a mother’s love is universally unconditional. But what about those of us who have seen the reality of mothers whose love is not just conditional but abusive? Where does that leave us? Not only are we rejected by our families but we are then rejected by society when we take action to protect ourselves in adulthood.

Zora Neale Hurston once said, “If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” I believe that we do a disservice to ourselves when we minimize the reality of how toxic mothers have hurt us for the sake of narratives that do not align with our experiences.

While I may not share much in common with Tarantino, I can admit that he deserved to have his writing dreams nurtured by his mother, and it is appropriate that there are natural consequences to her callous words towards him as a child now that he has achieved such career success.

Like Tarantino, my mother will never deserve my success — and I will never regret not sharing it with her.