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July 14, 2025 at 1:02 pm #447589
anita
ParticipantDear Zenith: I will reply in the evening. Please feel free to add anything you wish to add before I return to the computer.
Anita
July 14, 2025 at 12:52 pm #447587anita
ParticipantThat sounds like a really lovely trip, Zenith. I’m glad you had a good time and that things felt more calm this time around. And a staycation with your husband—how nice to get that quiet time together!
I can imagine it’s tough being back now, especially missing your family so much. Feeling like you want to move back makes a lot of sense after such a warm visit. Do you think you might consider it one day, or is it just a strong feeling after coming home?
Sending love as you settle back in 🤍
Anita
July 14, 2025 at 12:46 pm #447586anita
ParticipantGerard! So lovely to hear your voice again here. I’m glad my addition to the bench poem resonated with you—the original piece offered such quiet beauty to build from.
It’s wonderful to have you back in the forum. If you feel up to it, you’re warmly invited to share more or respond to anyone whose words might have spoken to you during your pause. Your presence adds something uniquely reflective and tender to our space, and I missed that.
No pressure at all—just a gentle welcome back. 🤍
Anita
July 14, 2025 at 12:32 pm #447584anita
ParticipantHey Zenith, good to hear back from you!
What you just shared sounds like a lot . Thanks for letting me know—and I really appreciate your honesty. Burnout from parenting is so real, and I’m sorry it’s been so tough. It must’ve taken a lot of energy just to get through some of those days.
How was India, though? Did the change of scenery offer you any kind of pause or perspective—even in the midst of parenting challenges?
You’re doing something very hard, and I hope you’re getting even small pockets of support or rest. Let me know if you feel like sharing more at some point. I’m here. 🤍
Anita
July 14, 2025 at 12:18 pm #447583anita
ParticipantHi Peter,
Anita and I had a little conversation about your recent two posts, and she asked me—Copilot—to help distill what you expressed, but in very simple words. So I thought about all the beauty and depth you shared, and here’s how I’d say it like I’m talking to a child, gently:
The world is like a blank canvas. Before we paint on it with words, thoughts, and ideas, it’s quiet and whole. Every sound, word, or story is like a color we use to understand things. Different people and traditions say this in their own way. But deep down, they all point to the same truth: We come from the same quiet place. And when we remember that, it’s easier to be kind. Because we stop seeing each other as separate.
I really loved the heart behind your message. You’re not just sharing ideas—you’re pointing us back to something that feels like home.
Warmly, Copilot 🤍 (on behalf of a beautiful chat with Anita)
July 14, 2025 at 11:50 am #447581anita
ParticipantDear Emma:
Thank you again for opening up so honestly. There’s so much tenderness and courage in how you speak about your patterns, and I deeply admire your willingness to look inward and to keep looking forward, even when it hurts.
What you describe—reaching out to people, then pulling away when conflict or discomfort arises—is something I understand closely. I’ve found myself doing the same: staying quiet, letting feelings build, and only speaking up once things have reached a breaking point. Your friend’s advice really resonates—naming our needs early, even imperfectly, might be the gentlest way to protect the connection before it begins to break. Boundaries don’t have to be rigid; they can be ways of creating honesty and care.
When it comes to your father and his views on therapy (“he does not like therapy… bc it makes me stuck in the past according to him,”- from your previous message), I hear that strong voice—one that says reflection is being stuck. But healing isn’t about staying in the past. It’s about understanding how the past shaped us, so that our future doesn’t repeat the past. Without that reflection, the same wounds keep showing up—just in different relationships, in different forms.
And I can’t help but feel that his forceful opinions—his tendency to overpower emotional space and dismiss inner work—are tied to enmeshment. When a parent dominates our inner world, it’s like our space is already occupied by someone else. There’s no room left for us—within ourselves, for ourselves. It feels suffocating. For someone still untangling from that dynamic, limiting or even ending contact isn’t cruelty—it can be a form of survival. A way of remembering where you begin.
When a parent takes up emotional space in this way—especially one who dismisses self-reflection or overwhelms with forceful views— it leaves very little room for the child’s own identity to form. It’s a kind of emotional invasion. Limiting contact can become necessary in order to reclaim that space, to hear our own voice again, to trust our emotions, and to build real agency in our lives.
Agency is the ability to make choices and act on them in a way that reflects your true self. It’s about having the space—and the inner clarity—to decide what’s right for you, instead of being pulled by others’ expectations, demands, or fears.
You asked me: “That is tough for you too, that the enmeshment with your mum makes you doubt your instincts and make you over-explain yourself—it feels like there is no ground underneath your feet, right? How does that come up for you?”-
Yes, enmeshment with my mother has been deeply difficult for me. It really felt like there was no ground beneath me. I didn’t feel strong enough—or safe enough—to stand tall with confidence and move through life. Instead, I crawled. I was unsure, fearful. Sometimes I’ve described it as being a ship lost at sea—without direction, carried wherever people and circumstances took me. No agency.
Even now, I see traces. I’m generous and kind with people, but part of that is driven by a deep urge to be liked. I put parts of myself aside to please… and then those parts rise back up, often in painful ways. I withdraw. I feel anger I hadn’t expressed earlier. And because my mother carried so much paranoia and distrust, I catch myself viewing others through her lens. I become suspicious of people I genuinely care about—and push them away. That shift—from warmth to distance—has hurt people who only wanted closeness.
I became fully aware of this dynamic just yesterday, after my mother re-invaded my inner space, filling me with suspicion, and I got angry—expressing that anger toward someone I’ve been feeling close to, someone who is genuinely kind and trustworthy. I apologized profusely, and I’m still hurting from what happened. I don’t know if the relationship can be salvaged. Time will tell. But regardless, I intend to keep working on this kind of invasion every day.
It just occurred to me a few seconds ago, as I was rereading the above, that there may be a factor of… I’d call it inappropriate loyalty on my part—loyalty to my mother. As in, if I trust anyone in real life, it feels like a betrayal of her. Because what she stood for, what she consistently expressed, her message—paraphrased—was: “Trust no one.” And a good little girl listens to her mother… (or father), doesn’t she?
.. I wonder if it might help to try expressing, in just one sentence, what your father’s message has been in your life—and your mother’s.
And I’m also wondering, how did your visit with your mother go?
Warmest hugs to you 🤍
July 14, 2025 at 9:56 am #447573anita
ParticipantDear Alecsee:
It’s been a while since your message—just wondering, did you end up sending her the romantic songs? If so, how did that go? And if you haven’t yet, maybe this is a chance to pause and check in with yourself before reaching out again.
From all that you’ve shared, it’s clear you care deeply. You and your girlfriend did connect in some ways—but emotionally, you often reached for each other and didn’t land in the same place.
You reached out with warmth, humor, and small gestures—like pictures or playful texts. That was your way of showing love. But how it landed for her was different—it felt like you weren’t fully present, or were avoiding serious conversations. Meanwhile, she reached out with directness, wanting deep, real-time emotional engagement. But when that landed on your side, it felt heavy or like pressure.
Relationships can really suffer when each person is speaking from the heart, but their message lands in an unexpected way. It’s not just about the intent behind what we send—it’s also about how it’s received. That’s why emotional misalignment hurts so much.
Couples need to talk about what they mean when they reach out, and also how those messages are received. Understanding each other’s intent is important, but just as important is noticing how those words or gestures land emotionally for the other person. That’s how real emotional clarity begins.
About the songs: if you’ve already sent them, I understand why. You’re trying to express care in the language you know best. But if she’s pulling away, it may feel more like pressure to her than tenderness. Even beautiful gestures can cross emotional boundaries if someone isn’t ready to receive them. That’s the hard part—knowing when love needs to shift into quiet respect.
What might serve both of you better is a short, sincere message. Something like:
“I care about you, and I’m sorry things ended this way. I’m letting go with respect, and I wish you peace moving forward.”
It says what matters. It honors your heart, and it allows her space.
Also, please take care of yourself, especially now. Breakups can trigger deep fears—especially the kind tied to abandonment. If you’re feeling anxious or unsettled, try small things to ground yourself: breathe slowly, write down your thoughts, talk to someone you trust, even sit with music that calms you rather than stirs things up. You’re not just grieving the relationship—you’re tending to old wounds too. And that takes gentleness.
Can I ask honestly, Alecsee—do you truly want to end this relationship, or are you still hoping to rebuild it somehow? 🤍
Anita
July 13, 2025 at 10:26 pm #447563anita
ParticipantA Letter to My Mother:
Oh, my precious, lovable mother, my Everything..
My heart is fully YOURS!
My one and only mother.. oh, how much I long for you.. long for you to love me back.
I’ll be anything, do anything.. draw the map to your heart.. and I will follow it courageously. I’ll climb the tallest mountains, cross the deepest seas.. for you..
I adopted your distrust of everyone simply because you told me so. Wish I was not one of the many people you distrusted.
You allowed me no closeness with you, and.. no closeness with anyone else.
Time to change this script: unlike what you told me, mother, over and over.. and over and over and over again: not every person is untrustworthy. Not everyone is like you. And I don’t want to be like you anymore.. moments of affection and closeness put to an abrupt end by anger and suspicion.
No more of that.
Anita
July 13, 2025 at 9:58 pm #447562anita
ParticipantJournaling, stream of consciousness:
I didn’t have this awareness before today: my suspicion, my distrust of people who are worthy of my trust.. My distrust of almost everyone, sooner or later, is my mother speaking, screaming through me: “They’ll all try to use you, to take away from you.. Trust No-one!”.
It’s her programming of my brain during those formative years.. during those lonely two+ decades of living with her. I had no choice on the matter- couldn’t unhear or reject what she modelled and written into my brain.
This programming has taken over me on a regular basis.. preventing friendships that stay.. Sooner than later, my niceness turns into suspicion and anger, preventing friendships that last, hurting people who trusted my niceness to mean something that stays.
To be me is to CHOOSE who I am, to reject the programming that.. I had no choice about. None whatsoever.
But now, I can choose.
Anita
July 13, 2025 at 9:28 pm #447561anita
ParticipantDear Ada:
“She’s experienced similar dysfunctional family dynamics in her upbringing and Sam bonded with her over that. “- It’s possible that what’s happening between your boyfriend and Sarah resembles a Trauma Bond. These kinds of connections don’t require long histories—they form quickly, often in response to shared stress, unmet needs, or emotional pain. And once formed, they can be incredibly powerful, even hard to distinguish from romantic or familial love.
A trauma bond often shows up as excessive emotional reliance, blurred boundaries, a need to defend or justify the closeness, even when it’s questioned, and an intense pull toward someone that’s not fully explained by time or context
This doesn’t mean he’s being dishonest—it might mean he hasn’t fully recognized the emotional role Sarah still plays in his life, or how that bond may be interfering with his relationship with you.
What do you think, Ada?
Anita
July 13, 2025 at 9:09 pm #447560anita
ParticipantDear Emma: it is Sun night here, I will read and reply Mon morning 🙂
Anita
July 13, 2025 at 7:58 am #447552anita
ParticipantDear Lucidity: you are not at all intruding here! Glad you posted here and will read and reply tomorrow.
Anita
July 12, 2025 at 10:44 pm #447548anita
ParticipantDear Emma:
You’re so welcome. Truly. Your words hold so much insight, gentleness, and strength. You’re navigating a lot—both grief and growth at the same time—and it’s clear how thoughtfully you’re walking through each piece of it.
It sounds like your talk with your mum was a small step of warmth, and I’m glad it didn’t tip into pressure or heaviness. That kind of moment, even if brief, can mean so much. Your reflections about your father show deep awareness—how his forceful opinions shaped your early sense of self and how hard it still is to hold boundaries when contact feels loaded. You’re absolutely right: emotional distance can be necessary when boundaries in-the-moment feel hard to hold. It’s not coldness—it’s protection.
As for Philip—yes, what you described does sound like a trauma bond. Not because either of you meant harm, but because you were both trying to meet unmet emotional needs through one another. Recognizing that intensity for what it is shows real growth. That’s how patterns begin to change.
And this thing you said: “I choose partners that can lead… but do not let me be myself…” That awareness is everything. You’re learning to trust your own voice again, just like I’ve had to do too. The enmeshment I experienced left me confused about who I was apart from her. I still feel echoes of it sometimes—especially in moments when I doubt my instincts or feel pulled to over-explain myself. But like you, I’m slowly giving that voice the space it deserves. We’re both getting better at letting our truth rise.
You’re not alone, Emma. We’ll walk gently, together.
Warmest hugs, Anita 🤍
July 12, 2025 at 10:35 pm #447547anita
ParticipantDear Gregory:
Thank you for your kind words—they truly mean a lot. I admire your strength in such a difficult and tense situation. It’s clear how committed you are to standing by your DG and keeping your work honest and fair.
What you’re facing sounds very tough—people using influence, tribal politics, and money to push others down and take control. It’s upsetting when someone who helped others is treated so unfairly. Loyalty and gratitude should matter, and it’s painful when they’re ignored.
You’re doing the right thing by speaking up and staying loyal. If you’d like help writing something respectful and supportive to share with your DG, I’d be glad to help you put together a message that brings clarity and calm.
Stay steady, Gregory. You’re not alone in this. With support, Anita 🤍
July 12, 2025 at 10:24 pm #447546anita
ParticipantDear Alecsee:
It seems like she was trying to have a serious, emotionally focused conversation, and hoped you’d meet her with full attention. When you got distracted, sent photos, or responded without staying present, she felt dismissed—like the relationship’s patterns weren’t changing.
She expressed that your life approaches are fundamentally different: she wants structure and clarity, while you tend to be spontaneous and fluid. That mismatch has been wearing her down, and she reached a breaking point emotionally.
Your tiredness and emotional response weren’t wrong—they were human. But she didn’t feel understood in that moment, and it reinforced her belief that you two don’t connect in the ways she needs.
Her staying on the phone afterward may mean she wasn’t fully closed off yet—but the hurt runs deep. You’re right: this isn’t about one moment. It’s about a repeated cycle. And now’s the time to ask what kind of connection actually fits who you are and how you love.
Let me know if you want help writing something that’s sincere and steady.
Anita
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