💔 When Love Isn’t Enough: Breaking the Cycle of Emotional Absence

I used to work for a man who was a self-made millionaire—a big-time developer in Marin with his own property management company. But what made his business unique was that it wasn’t really a company at all; it was just him managing his own portfolio of residential and commercial real estate. By the time I worked for him, he was in his 80s. His business ran itself. He didn’t have to work—he chose to.

Every afternoon, he’d come into the office, not because things needed him, but because he needed to feel like he mattered. Work was his identity. It made him feel important.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I just found it perplexing. Why work when you don’t have to? Why not go enjoy your life?

But the real heartbreak of this story wasn’t about his work ethic—it was about his family.

His daughter, who didn’t work, had gone through IVF and given birth to adorable twins—a boy and a girl. They were sweet, bubbly, and full of love. They’d come to the office to see their grandpa, their Popa, and they’d ask him for something so simple, so childlike: “Popa, can we go get ice cream?” Baskin Robbins was five minutes away, located in a shopping center he owned.

Every time, he said no. “I’m too busy with work.”

It wasn’t just once. It was every time. Over the years, I watched those kids stop asking. I watched their affection cool. By the time they were teenagers, they didn’t visit anymore. And I never understood it—until now.

🧠 Understanding Avoidance

Back then, I thought maybe he just got his sense of purpose from work. That’s what made him feel good about himself as a man. But now, I see something deeper: he was emotionally avoidant. Intimacy—yes, even with children—was something he couldn’t handle. And “being busy” was his armor.

He could engage with business deals and real estate portfolios, but not with the unconditional love of his grandkids. That kind of love asked him to be emotionally present, and I don’t think he knew how.

💼 A Side Note—And a Little Humor

He was a kind man to me. But he also neglected me at work—which, to be honest, worked in my favor.
I thrive on neglect at work. Please leave me alone and let me be! 😂

It’s ironic. Even in how he managed (or avoided managing) his employees, his emotional wiring showed. But back then, I didn’t mind. And now, I understand why.

💔 Broken Wealth

He had $54 million dollars. And yet, he lived in a broken marriage with a much younger woman who openly despised him. She once said to his face, in front of me, “I want to kill you.”

And still, he stayed. Why? Because emotional neglect feels familiar to the emotionally avoidant. It feels safe. Being truly loved? That’s terrifying. He had once been married to a woman who loved him. They had daughters—both emotionally sensitive and neglected. I think one of them may have taken her own life.

That’s when I started to see the pattern. Emotional absence isn’t just a quirk. It’s a wound. A generational one.

🌿 My Family Tree Was No Different

I looked at my own life—my father, who was similarly unavailable. I spent years wondering why he didn’t seem to care. That story with my boss helped me finally see: it wasn’t because I wasn’t worthy. It was because he couldn’t access that part of himself. Just like Popa couldn’t.

And I thought about the lineage I’ve lived through:

• My mother’s side: psychological abuse.
  

• My father’s side: emotional neglect.
  

• My ex-husband’s side: physical and emotional abuse.
  

• My beloved (late) husband’s side: severe mental illness.
  

And then, my son—born into this web. He spent time in a foster home. He had a rough start. But I made a vow, not just to him, but to myself:
It ends with me.

✨ Healing Generations

I chose to show up, over and over again. To be emotionally present, even when it hurt. To stop the cycle of silence, neglect, and pain. And I did. I didn’t just heal my son’s experience—I believe I healed four family lines of trauma.

That’s not just something I’m proud of. It’s something I stand on. Because now, when I see someone who can’t show up emotionally, I don’t automatically blame myself. I see the wound behind their wall. And I walk away without taking it personally.

🕊 Final Thoughts

This is for anyone who ever wondered why someone couldn’t love them back. Why they never got the ice cream moment, the hug, the call, the kind word.

It was never about your worth.
They just couldn’t go there.

And if you’re someone who’s healing that in yourself, or breaking the chain in your own family—know this:
You are winning. You are whole. You are the light at the end of the lineage.