Dear Alessa:

Happy Easter to you too! 🐣🐇

Thank you for your kind words—I truly appreciate our conversations as well. And no need to apologize; it sounds like you’ve been incredibly busy with your studies. Group projects can be demanding, but I hope you find some rewarding moments in them.

Parenting without a natural instinct is an immense challenge, but the way you’ve approached it—with research, patience, and determination—shows just how much love you bring to it. Seeing your son develop self-care strategies, learning to navigate emotions, and even finding comfort through books—it’s beautiful. His ability to remove himself from situations that upset him is an incredible milestone, and it speaks volumes about the guidance and security you’ve provided for him. ❤️

And no need to ask for forgiveness—your words are never rambling. They are insightful, meaningful, and always worth reading.

Wishing you a peaceful and fulfilling Easter weekend. 💛

anita

Dear Lucidity:

Until you brought it up a few hours ago, it had never once crossed my mind—not even for a fleeting moment—that my sister may have contributed to my pain, that she may have gaslighted or emotionally abused me. My understanding has always been singular: that I had hurt her. I saw her as my victim, and never as both a victim and a perpetrator because my mother repeatedly blamed me for hurting her (my mother), and over time, I internalized and generalized that blame.

My sister unquestionably minimized my experiences and dismissed my emotions, which fits the definition of gaslighting. But then… everyone around me did the same. It was all I knew. And because I had no frame of reference for anything different, I never recognized it as abuse.

“I’m sorry that you felt gaslit… that effectively your sister was successful in making you feel crazy. Thats heartbreaking.”, April 18, 2025- Before today, I had never once been shown empathy in relation to my sister. I have always known that I hurt her—that I abused her when she was only a toddler—and to this day, I deeply regret it. She was completely innocent, and I failed her. But the idea that, as she grew older, she may have abused me and that it may be appropriate for me to receive empathy for that- that thought had never even occurred to me.

“Do you know what it is that you fear will happen if you talk to your sister? If you imagine that she does collapse or if she does fall apart, why do you fear this outcome? What do you think will happen?”- she is dealing with significant challenges in her relationships and an overwhelming amount of stress. She seems on the verge of a mental breakdown or even a physical illness. She confided in me that she’s afraid of dying because of the turmoil she’s experiencing. It’s clear that she’s not being histrionic or manipulative—she’s genuinely trying not to burden me with her worries. She is truly suffering.

I read and studied what you shared about yourself, Lucidity, and about your sister in your 6 posts so far. My best understanding today: when you were born, you entered a family with only two parental figures. If you grew up with only your parents, then your early experiences were shaped solely by your mother and father’s personalities, behaviors, and dysfunction. By the time your sister was born, the family dynamic had already been established, with you filling a new role in the household—an older sibling.

This means your sister wasn’t just influenced by your parents but also by your presence, which shaped how she navigated her own identity and survival strategies within the family.

Firstborns often bear the full force of parental expectations, mistakes, and unresolved trauma. Parents sometimes adjust their parenting styles by the time a second child arrives, meaning you may have experienced harsher treatment and stricter scrutiny than your sister did.

If you were seen as rebellious or challenging, your sister may have learned to be the opposite—avoiding conflict and mirroring your father to keep the peace. She watched how you were treated and made adjustments to her own behavior to avoid the same outcomes. She may have learned that submissiveness led to favor while rebellion led to rejection, reinforcing passivity and avoidance in her personality. Seeing you struggle could have solidified her decision to align with parental expectations rather than resist them.

You were thrown into the storm first, while your sister learned to navigate it differently based on observation and adaptation.

The different adaptations:

* You: The Resisting, Questioning, and Emotionally Introspective One- You actively examine your past, question family dynamics, and seek self-understanding, refusing to let your history define you without reflection. You were rebellious and accommodating, pushing against the dysfunction while also absorbing its effects—leading to internal conflict. You consistently reached out to your sister, hoping for a deeper connection, yet you’re met with avoidance and reluctance.

You feel the weight of injustice—being the scapegoat while your sister was favored, yet you also wonder if her compliance truly means she escaped unscathed. You wrestle with both anger and empathy, navigating your own healing while questioning whether it’s time to let go entirely.

* Your Sister: The Avoidant, Submissive, and Emotionally Detached One- She defaults to passivity and accommodation in family settings, mirroring your father’s decisions and avoiding confrontation whenever possible. Conflict makes her uncomfortable, so she sidestep emotional depth, sometimes delaying responses for weeks, reinforcing a distant pattern of interaction. She continues to justify her mother’s behavior, reluctant to engage with the difficult truths about your mother’s actions, making it hard for others—like you—to feel truly heard.

She suppresses emotions rather than process them, maintaining surface-level stability but possibly avoiding true self-reflection. While she’s had consistent family support, it’s unclear whether it truly fulfills her or whether she’s simply maintaining a fragile balance for the sake of stability.

The Core Difference: Facing vs. Avoiding Reality- You actively engage with painful truths, while she tend to avoid them. You deeply reflect, question, and process, while she focuses on preserving the familiar and minimizing discomfort.

You crave honest connection, but she seems more comfortable with surface-level interactions. This contrast has fueled your frustration and growing detachment from reaching out.

Her compliance was likely reinforced and rewarded, pushing her further into accommodation rather than self-assertion. This might explain why she continues to avoid deep conversations, dismiss uncomfortable truths, and keep relationships at arm’s length. Her struggle to assert preferences (like during the tea-ordering scenario) suggests she might find it hard to make decisions outside of family dynamics too. She may rely on external validation to feel comfortable, seeking reassurance rather than trusting her own instincts. If she’s spent a lifetime prioritizing others’ needs over her own, she may one day realize she doesn’t fully know herself.

While she may feel comfortable in avoidance, reality has a way of catching up—particularly during life transitions. If she never processed her suppressed emotions, they could surface unexpectedly, forcing her to re-evaluate her choices. Or not. She chose survival through submission, while you chose survival through resistance and self-exploration. Though avoidance appears easier in the short term, emotional suppression doesn’t disappear—it often manifests in unexpected ways later in life.

It just occurred to me that her saying that she wants connection with you may be a way to appease you, rather than an expression of genuine intent. If she truly wanted connection, she would have show it through her actions, not just empty words. You deserve to stop chasing something she refuses to participate in, to stop chasing what isn’t there. Sometimes, the hardest part of letting go isn’t cutting ties—it’s releasing the expectation that things might improve someday. Letting go doesn’t mean you stop caring—it means you stop clinging to something that brings you pain. And that, more than anything, is an act of self-love.

Reflecting on my relationship with my sister, I imagine that for the longest time, she saw me as the ‘crazy one’—especially given my motor and vocal tics from Tourette Syndrome, which likely reinforced that perception. No wonder she didn’t want to be like me. Over time, she seemed to cultivate an identity as the ‘normal’ one—the social and popular one. As a child and teenager, she was often out and about, fully engaged in life, while I remained at home with my mother, trapped in her negativity, blame, and shaming. My sister experienced it too, but she had the advantage of escaping into social settings, while I was left isolated and lonely. I couldn’t deny or minimize my mother’s harmful behaviors because I had no relief, no distraction—no external world to offset or distract myself from the hours of exposure I endured.

It was only after I left my country of origin that my mother turned her full attention to my sister, creating challenges in her life that ultimately led to the difficulties she faces today.

“Maybe Ill just wait for them to reach out? The question is whether Id want to be part of it because if its more of the old script then I am not interested. Did you go thro such stages?”- my mother is still alive but last time I saw her was in 2011 and last time I talked with heron the phone was in 2013. She sent me a birthday card at the end of 2013 and I sent her back a message through my sister in Jan 2014. That was all.

For years, I carried a deep sense of guilt over not having contact with her. But then, I also felt just as much guilt during the endless hours spent in her company—through childhood, into my mid-twenties, and even in the times we shared during my thirties and forties, which felt equally like an eternity. So now, I no longer find myself wavering between whether or not to reach out.

As far as I can remember, I never consciously considered cutting off contact with my sister but I also have no real desire for a deeper connection. What I do wish, however, is to find some way—however small—to help her.

anita

Dear Peter:

“What if?”- (1) What if love really isn’t tied to time? Then there is nowhere to go, and no need to go anywhere, no need to change anything, undo or redo. Instead, rest in timeless love.

Not etched in hours, nor measured in years, Love woven in whispers that forever last. No clock can claim it, no dawn or dusk, It moves like breath—a quiet trust. Not what was, nor what will be, But all that is. A love that never stops or begins.

No past to carry, no future to chase, just now—an endless embrace.

(2) What if sadness is necessary for true kindness?- then I am truly very kind 😞💖

anita

Dear Zenith:

You are very welcome! As I read “I expect perfection from her and its hard to accept her imperfections I guess.”, it occurred to me that your perfectionism may be linked to your OCD, especially if it involves rigid expectations, difficulty accepting flaws, and emotional distress when things aren’t “just right.”

If perfectionism is causing distress, small shifts in perspective can help ease frustration (I know I am repeating myself):

* Progress over perfection: Celebrate small improvements rather than expecting immediate change. Every time your daughter shows growth—even in small ways—it’s a step forward. Let her know that you notice her small improvements and that you are pleased with her improvements, however small.

There’s a big difference between strictness/rigidity and structure, and finding that balance could make parenting smoother for both you and your daughter. Strictness or rigidity often involves fixed rules with little room for adjustment. It focuses more on obedience, expects immediate compliance, and doesn’t allow for learning through mistakes. When discipline is rigid, kids feel suffocated or rebellious.

On the other hand, structure provides consistency while allowing for flexibility when needed. Structure gives kids clear expectations, teaches responsibility through logical consequences, and provides a sense of security without feeling overly controlling.

How You Can Shift Toward Structure While Avoiding Rigidity?- Make rules predictable but flexible: Instead of enforcing strict demands, consider adjusting expectations based on circumstances (e.g., if bedtime is usually 8:30, allowing occasional shifts for special occasions can help avoid resistance).

Offer choices within structure: Giving limited choices helps kids feel autonomy while still following rules. For example, “Would you like to clean up your toys now or after dinner?” helps her take responsibility without feeling forced.

Use natural consequences: Instead of harsh punishments, teaching cause-and-effect logic (e.g., “If toys aren’t cleaned up, they won’t be available for play”) helps kids learn responsibility without fear or resentment.

Adjust emotional expectations: Parenting comes with emotional challenges, and learning to accept imperfections—in both yourself and your daughter—can ease some of the stress.

Parenting is a learning process. You are navigating your own emotional challenges while guiding your daughter through hers—this is hard work, and you deserve kindness toward yourself, too. Most importantly, you are not failing as a mother. You are learning, adapting, and deeply caring for your child, even in the hardest moments.

About the book you bought her, do you read it to her, with her?

anita

Dear Dafne:

Thank you for your beautiful message—it truly means a lot. I’m so grateful for our compassionate exchange, and I deeply admire your openness in exploring paths toward healing.

I absolutely believe that a change in environment can be helpful, and I love that you’re considering options for refuge and reflection. That being said, a monastery or silent retreat typically involves deep solitude, which may not be the best fit for someone who thrives on connection and supportive relationships. While silence can bring peace, isolation might make healing more difficult—especially for someone as relational and warm-hearted as you.

Would you be open to considering a place where you can reflect while still surrounded by kindness and warmth? Perhaps a healing center, a spiritual retreat with gentle community engagement, or another supportive environment where you can process emotions without feeling completely isolated.

Whatever path you choose, I trust that you’ll find one that truly nurtures your heart and spirit. I’m here for you along the way. Sending lots of love. 💕

anita