CLEARing Abandonment

The Scene

 

David still checks his phone sometimes.

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It’s been over a year since his mom moved out of state.

Not just a few hours away, but clear across the country.

 

No real goodbye.

 

Just a short call, a vague explanation about needing a change, and a forwarding address sent later by text.

 

They hadn’t been close in recent years.

But there was still something steady about her being nearby.

A sense that, even if she wasn’t fully present, she was there.

 

Now she’s not.

 

His birthday passed without a call.

When his car broke down, she didn’t answer.

When he landed that new job and texted her the news, there was a “❤️” reaction… and nothing else.

 

He hasn’t talked about it much.

But there’s a quiet ache...deep and familiar.

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“If your own mom can leave, anyone can.”
“Guess I was never important to her.”
“This is why I don’t rely on people.”

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It’s not just sadness.

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It’s abandonment.

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The Claim

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The belief under the ache?

 

“She gave up on me.”

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That’s what keeps echoing.

And that’s where the pain sharpens into shame, then hardens into armor.

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But let’s examine it.

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The Lie

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There are layers of distortion in David’s thought:

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Mind-reading

He assumes she moved away because of him, that she left him, not just the city.

But he doesn't truly know why she made the decision.

Without more, he's guessing...and his guess is filtered through pain.

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Personalization

He turns her action into a judgment about his worth: “If she cared, she would’ve stayed.” But if that were true, it would mean every absence equals rejection...and that’s not how life always works.

 

 

All-or-Nothing Thinking

The relationship is either full presence or total abandonment.

But love, especially family love, isn’t always consistent.

It may falter.

It may even fail.

But it’s not always fake.

 

 

Labeling

He labels her as someone who “gave up.”

But what if she’s just weak?

Or confused?

Or lost in her own pain?

 

People can leave for reasons that have little to do with those they leave behind.

These distortions aren’t just mistakes...they’re the voice of hurt.

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But Reason can still speak.

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The Evidence

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David remembers times his mom drove across town late at night when he was sick in high school.

He remembers her calling his ex “not good enough” for him...half out of spite, half out of real concern.

He remembers her joking about old family stories, trying to make him laugh when his father didn’t show up.

 

But he also remembers her emotional distance.

The times she checked out.

The way she sometimes treated love like a transaction...given, then withheld.

 

Her leaving hurt.

It still does.

 

But it wasn’t the first wound.

It might not have been the most deliberate.

It was just… another step away in a pattern that’s always been there.

 

 

 

The Alternative

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The original claim was:

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“She gave up on me.”

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But that line oversimplifies something complex.

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A more balanced thought?

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“She left, and that hurt. But it wasn’t all about me. Her actions reflect her struggle, not my worth.”

Or:

“She failed to show up the way I needed. That’s real. But I can grieve that without assuming I was the problem.”

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That’s not weakness.

That’s clarity.

 

 

 

The Role of Reason

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David still feels the emptiness.

But he doesn’t have to turn it into a fortress around his heart.

 

He chooses to hold both truths:

• That he needed more.

• And that he didn’t get it.

 

He lets himself mourn the relationship for what it was...and wasn’t.

And then he moves forward.

 

Not waiting for others to stay and prove something.

But choosing to become the kind of man who shows up, so he can be what he didn’t have.

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Another Face of Abandonment

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Feelings of abandonment show up in many forms for men. So let’s walk through one more scenario, and apply the CLEAR method to find our way through it.

 

 

 

The Scene

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Marcus drives home in silence.

 

He’s just left the cemetery.

 

His father’s death wasn’t sudden.

The cancer had taken its time.

But no matter how much you brace for it, some absences still hit like a landslide.

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The funeral is over.

The casseroles have stopped coming.

But Marcus still finds himself thinking:

 

“Why didn’t he do more with me?”
“Why didn’t he leave anything behind?”
“Why didn’t he say more before he went?”

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His dad wasn’t cruel.

Just… quiet.

Uninvolved.

 

He provided.

Paid bills.

Said “good job” every now and then.

 

But no long talks.

No life lessons.

No shared rituals.

 

Now he’s gone. And Marcus is left with a feeling of emptiness, and longing for the things that never happened.

 

And the anger feels wrong.

But it’s there.

 

 

 

The Claim

 

The thought that sticks?

“He left me empty.”

 

It’s not about death.

It’s about what didn’t happen while he was alive.

 

 

 

The Lie

 

This belief carries distortions:

 

 

Should Statements

Marcus compares reality to how it should’ve been. And he’s not wrong. Fathers should pass on wisdom, love, guidance. But clinging to the should only deepens the wound.

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Emotional Reasoning

Because Marcus feels let down, he assumes there must’ve been a deliberate withholding. But if that were true, then his father was intentionally distant. And there’s no evidence for that.

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All-or-Nothing Thinking

The whole relationship is written off as a failure. But if every missed connection equals total abandonment, then there’s no room for complexity or grace.

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The Evidence

 

Marcus remembers a time they built a desk together...silent, but side by side.
 

He remembers his dad putting gas in his car quietly, slipping him cash when money was tight.

He remembers once, just once, his father saying “I wish I’d been better at this whole thing.”

 

That moment wasn’t everything.

But it was something.

 

His father left without saying all that needed to be said.

But maybe he didn’t know how.

 

 

 

The Alternative

 

The first thought:

“He left me empty.”

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But a clearer view might be:

“There were things I needed that I never got. That hurts. But it doesn’t have to stay empty forever.”

Or:

“He didn’t give me everything. But he gave what he could. Now it’s on me to choose how to carry the rest.”

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The Role of Reason

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Marcus lets himself feel the ache.

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But he doesn’t wallow in blame.

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He writes down what he wishes his father had said.

Then he reads it aloud...to no one.

 

And chooses to say those things to his own son.

Or maybe, one day, to someone else who needs it.

 

Because absence doesn’t have to echo forever.

 

It can end with you.

 

 

 

Final Reflection

 

Abandonment carves a hollow space.

But you are not hollow.

 

You are still here.

 

Still standing.

Still able to build what was missing.

 

You can’t make others stay.
But you can choose not to leave yourself.

 

Walk forward.

 

With presence.
With purpose.
With Reason.

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