I have a very hard time feeling like I have the right to harbor any negative thoughts about my upbringing. Sure, it was obvious that I was never truly loved, and I was lied to, manipulated, used as an object to get narcissistic supply from and through, abused in some ways, and quite possibly badly spanked as a very little child, which I still can't know for sure and never will. But I can't complain, because many out there have had it much worse.
See, whenever I had any complaint in childhood, it was invalidated by a comparison. If I complained about my early bedtime (7.30 PM, as I recall, until I was 10 or so), I was told about a very distant relative who made her daughter go to bed when there was still sunshine outside. That would shut me up. I was lucky in comparison and should be grateful. And there was always someone who had it worse, however far away and little known to me, so they could always shut me up.
Now I do it to myself. All the time.