Dear Heather:

You are welcome and thank you for the appreciation 🙂

Your responses reveal a strong tendency toward self-judgment, overthinking, and persistent anxiety, especially when it comes to perceived mistakes. You struggle with forgiving yourself when you feel you’ve acted imperfectly, and your thought patterns suggest perfectionism in relationships and interactions—where even minor, harmless situations can feel like personal failings.

Also, it seems you’ve internalized the belief that “good people” shouldn’t experience certain emotions, like attraction to someone outside their relationship. But emotions are not proof of character failure—they are simply a reflection of being human.

If a child grows up in an environment where she is expected to be “good” at all times, she may learn to equate mistakes with personal failure. When approval feels conditional on perfect behavior, self-critical tendencies form—just as you’ve described in your own experiences.

Or if a child frequently feels responsible for others’ feelings—such as trying hard not to upset a highly sensitive parent or navigating a tense home environment, striving not to add to the tension—she may develop the belief that she must avoid causing discomfort to others at all costs.

It’s also possible that a child was never taught that making mistakes is part of learning—not an indication of moral failing or a sign of being “bad.” Children need to be reassured that mistakes do not define their worth—they are simply an inevitable part of growth.

Can you try treating yourself, Heather, with the same kindness you’d offer a loved one who made a small mistake?

The next time guilt creeps in, ask yourself: “If someone else told me this same story, would I judge them as harshly as I judge myself?”

Attraction, validation-seeking, even moments of uncertainty—these are not moral failings, just feelings. Instead of guilt, what if you replaced it with curiosity? “Why do I feel this way?” rather than “I shouldn’t feel this way.”

You don’t have to carry the weight of every past moment as proof of who you are. You are allowed to learn, adjust, and move forward without shame. 💙

I’d love to hear your thoughts—does any of this resonate with you?

anita

Dear Heather:

I hear how much this has been weighing on you, and I want to gently offer this perspective: There is never a valid reason to judge ourselves for how we feel. Emotions arise for a reason, and behind every feeling—whether it’s joy, sadness, fear, or even guilt—there is a positive motivation meant to guide us, protect us, or help us connect with others.

In this case, your enjoyment of the attention wasn’t wrong—it was simply human. It wasn’t a sign of disloyalty or a failing on your part; it was just a moment where you felt seen. The fact that you were aware enough to acknowledge it, reflect on it, and reaffirm your commitment to your husband shows that your values remain intact.

It’s important to remember that only behavior is subject to judgment—not the emotions themselves. You didn’t act in a way that betrayed your relationship, and your love for your husband is clear and unwavering. Maybe instead of guilt, you can try replacing it with self-compassion—recognizing that you’re allowed to feel things, learn from them, and move forward without shame.

I’m curious—have you noticed that your guilt seems to be more about your emotions themselves than about your actual actions? If so, would it help to explore why that might be? I’m happy to talk through this more if you’d like. 💙

anita

Dear Michelle:

I can feel the depth of your love, grief, and devotion in every word you wrote. Your poem for Pepper is absolutely beautiful—it captures the rare, unbreakable bond between two souls who simply knew they belonged to each other. The way you described his unwavering presence, his protective spirit, and the way he chose you—it’s beyond touching. He truly was your safe place, and it’s heartbreaking to see you facing the reality of losing him.

You shared: “My early life was dark but then there was you… You showed me I was lovable. Worth choosing. You healed what nothing else ever could.” And you asked, “How do you let go while they’re still here? How do you say goodbye to a love like this?”

In my mind, you answered your own questions in the very last line of your beautiful poem: “I will choose you forever.”

If you choose what Pepper means to you every day of your life—loving others, human or animal, whose early lives were dark, showing them love, choosing them, helping them heal—whether in small ways, like offering a kind smile to someone who looks sad, or in bigger ways, like volunteering at a pet shelter or adopting an animal or a child, and they, in turn, pass on that love to others, then you are continuing Pepper’s legacy.

And in this deeply meaningful way, he will never truly be gone.

Here if you ever need to share more 💙🐶

anita

I can’t read all that you shared this Thurs night (here), but I can definitely hear your heart breaking. I will get back to you Fri morning. I HEAR your heart, your love!

anita