Continued:

Seems like suddenly (as in after half a century), I am not angry at my mother anymore. I never allowed myself to NOT be angry at her because I was afraid that otherwise, I will get close to her again.. and get hurt again. But now, as I hold myself accountable to the promise I made to the child-within-me (aka inner child) to never see her again irl, never hear her voice, never feel her hand in mine or any such thing, never communicate with her in any way.. Now, that I trust this promise to myself, I am no longer angry at her.

Strange. It’s like I let her go, let her be gone.

I hold myself accountable to the promise I made to me. To never expose myself to the woman who stole so much of my life, the majority of it, quality wise, never re-expose myself to my “personal Nazi”, as I referred to her 40 years ago, the one who having made my childhood, “my personal holocaust”. She made my life.. my private holocaust. And this is the truth, when it comes to my mother-myself, when it comes to my life.

To be continued, still-

anita