Am I overreacting for cutting my entire family out of my life after how I was raised?
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I'm 28M, and I've been going back and forth in my head about whether I'm overreacting by completely cutting my family out of my life. I want to explain the whole story because I don't think I can ask this question without giving the context.
I was born in Arizona in 1998. My mom was only 13 years old when she had me, and my biological father was 21. Because of the circumstances surrounding my birth, CPS and the police became involved when I was born. My mom eventually disappeared with me and stopped cooperating with them, and the trail basically went cold.
My mom had also grown up in a very dysfunctional and abusive household. Her own mother abandoned her and struggled with alcoholism, and her father was also an alcoholic and was abusive. So she had a terrible childhood herself.
I'm the oldest of 10 siblings. Growing up, my mom was rarely home. I ended up taking care of my younger siblings. I changed diapers, fed them, watched them, and basically became responsible for them while I was still a child myself.
One of the things that really sticks with me is realizing that I wasn't going to school.
I remember watching my younger siblings wake up every morning, put on their backpacks, and leave the house. I'd see them walking down the street with all the other kids, laughing and talking, and then they'd come home hours later.
Meanwhile, I was just there.
I didn't go to kindergarten. I didn't go to elementary school. I didn't go to middle school or high school. I never had a teacher. I never had a graduation. I never went to prom or a school dance. I didn't have the normal childhood friendships that come from growing up around other kids.
I also didn't have normal medical care. I didn't have regular doctor's appointments, dental appointments, physicals, or vaccinations.
I basically had to teach myself how to read, write, and do basic math. I didn't even have regular access to the internet until I was around 13.
As I got older, I started realizing something else: I didn't have a birth certificate or a Social Security number.
That meant I couldn't get a normal job, open a bank account, get a driver's license, or really do many of the things that other adults could do.
I started asking my mom why she hadn't gotten these things for me. Her explanations changed over the years. One of the explanations was that she was trying to protect me from my biological father because of his involvement with gangs.
But eventually I became an adult and realized that nobody was coming to fix this for me.
So I had to do it myself.
I started working on this around 2017. I had to go through the court system to establish a delayed birth certificate. I had very little formal education, so trying to understand government paperwork, legal processes, and everything else involved was extremely difficult.
Eventually, I found documentation showing that CPS and the police had actually been involved around the time I was born. There were records from when my mom took me to the hospital after I was born, and those records helped establish that my story about my birth was legitimate.
I finally got my delayed birth certificate.
But then I went to the Social Security Administration and was told that a state-issued birth certificate wasn't enough for what they needed. I was told I had to provide extensive documentation proving my identity and citizenship history.
I basically had to prove that I existed.
I was told I needed years and years of documentation, even though the reason I didn't have those records in the first place was because I had been raised without them.
At that point, I honestly started losing hope.
Then COVID happened and everything became even harder. Government offices were shut down or severely limited, and the process basically stalled.
During this period I was also drinking heavily and stopped caring about my future. I eventually reached around 500 pounds. I didn't really believe my life was going anywhere.
Around 2022, when things started opening back up, I found work wherever I could. I eventually met my now-wife. We'd actually been friends for years, but she didn't know the full extent of my situation because I was embarrassed.
I had been taught from a young age to hide everything.
If people asked whether I went to school, I would lie and say yes. If people asked normal questions about my childhood, I'd give whatever answer I had been taught to give.
My wife eventually found out the truth, and instead of judging me, she pushed me to keep fighting.
She told me to contact senators and representatives and basically make as much noise as I could. So I started contacting government officials, including Senator Mark Kelly's office, and continued trying to get someone to help me.
I also started researching my own history and my mom's history to find anything that could help establish who I was.
After years of fighting, in 2024 I finally got the phone call I'd been waiting for.
My Social Security number had been approved.
I remember being incredibly happy. It might sound strange to be that excited about a number, but to me it represented something much bigger. It meant I could finally exist on paper. I could finally start living a normal adult life.
And shortly after that, I left.
I didn't tell my family I was leaving. I packed my things and disappeared.
I've been essentially no-contact with my mom since then.
The thing I struggle with is that my entire family knew I wasn't going to school. They knew I didn't have the paperwork other kids had. They knew I wasn't receiving normal care.
Their explanation is that they were afraid that if they reported what was happening, CPS would take their own children away.
But that's something I have a really hard time accepting.
Because I was one of those children.
I can't understand how so many adults could know what was happening and still decide that staying quiet was the better option.
Another thing that really hurt me was asking my mom for help finding work when I was younger. I couldn't get a normal job because I didn't have the documents required to work legally.
She told me she couldn't help because she was busy with her own life.
At another point, she basically told me that there are plenty of undocumented people working and that I didn't need a Social Security number to work.
That really hurt me because I wasn't asking her to solve my entire life. I was asking for help fixing a problem that existed because of decisions she had made when I was a child.
I understand that she was a child herself when she had me. I understand that she had her own trauma. I understand that she didn't have the tools or maturity that an adult should have had.
But I'm still the person who had to live with the consequences.
I missed out on basically every childhood milestone. I didn't have a normal education. I didn't have normal friendships. I wasn't socialized the way other kids were. I didn't get to experience school, graduation, prom, dances, or any of that.
And even now, at 28, I still struggle socially because I feel like I never learned how to have normal relationships with people.
So my question is:
Am I overreacting by wanting absolutely nothing to do with my mom or the rest of my family?
Am I wrong for feeling like I don't ever want to speak to my mom again?
Part of me feels guilty because I know she was a child herself when all of this started. But another part of me feels like I've spent my entire life dealing with consequences that I never should have had to deal with in the first place.
I don't know if I'm being unfair, holding onto anger that I should let go of, or if it's completely reasonable to decide that I don't want these people in my life anymore.
I'm genuinely asking because I want outside perspectives. If you were in my position, would you consider going no-contact an overreaction?