I had a lovely childhood and didn't really have a teenage period where I hated my parents or fell out with them, other than the odd argument or tantrum. However, I kept a diary every year from the start of senior school (and still do!), and one day when I was in my early 30's and a mum myself, my mum told me she had read my diary - lucky for her there were no rants about my parents, at least very few. Instead I seemed to have talked about the boys I fancied etc, and later my first sexual experiences. She actually recited some of the things I'd written, and although I didn't really remember any of it, she clearly still remembered, and the wording certainly would have been the sort of wording I'd have used. It was quite detailed and I have no idea why she told me, but it was excrutiatingly humiliating and I've never forgiven her. Mum never kept a diary herself, but a few years ago, I was going through a really bad patch (divorce, etc) and I later found a document mum wrote on the computer (it was on a memory stick she asked me to check over, years after the event, to see if there was anything worth keeping on it, and this document gave no idea what it was). She had documented how horrible I was and all her critisisms of me, some things certainly not true, but without any mention of why I was so utterly distressed and 'difficult'. It brought back the memory of her telling about my diaries years earlier, and I since lost all trust and respect for her. She is very elderly now, I love her, and I do everything I can for her ..... but I can never forgive her. Strangely, when asked by a friend recently what happy memories I have from my childhood, regarding my parents, I can relay many of my dad, but none at all of my mum, yet I know I had a happy childhood! Isn't it strange how the brain works, as I can only assume that these events have subconciously faded any happy memories of her.