Forum Replies Created
-
AuthorPosts
-
anitaParticipantHow are you, Lunar?
Anita
anitaParticipantHow are you, Lady F? And how is your sister?
Anita
anitaParticipantThinking about you, Suzanne, hoping you are well. 🍓
Anita
anitaParticipantDear Alessa:
Thank you for your message. I couldn’t have said it any better myself. Greed does fuel war.
The global arms trade is a multibillion-dollar industry, and when weapons become commodities— the incentive to maintain peace weakens. The lives lost, the homes destroyed, the futures stolen—those become just the cost of doing business for those at the top.
It’s deeply unjust. And it’s so easy to feel powerless in the face of it all. But messages like yours remind me that compassion still speaks, still sees, and still matters.
With appreciation, Anita
anitaParticipantDear Tommy:
I understand.
Kindness can feel uncomfortable. Softness can feel risky. It can feel safer to carry guilt, regrets, and pressure inside—and to believe that you’ve done wrong and should forever suffer—because at least then, the pain makes sense. It doesn’t come from nowhere… it’s deserved.
I get it. You’re not wrong for needing that.
But if you ever want a quiet place to rest—no judgment, no sweetness overload—just a place to breathe and be soft, if only for a moment… that space still exists. No expectations. Just understanding.
Wishing you steadiness on your path,
—Anita
anitaParticipantI was mistaken in the above post: the destruction I referred to (four dead, not one, all in an apartment building that was hit by an Iranian ballistic missile) took place an hour and 20 minutes before the scheduled ceasefire (Mon, June 24, 7 am, Israel time).
But only 12 minutes later (7:12 am, Israel time), Iran sent 15 more ballistic missiles into the north of Israel. And then again, 3.5 hours later, 2 more missiles were sent into Israel. Four hours later (four hours ago), Israel attacked in Northern Iran.
I want to note that Israel has been targeting Iran’s nuclear infrastructure, ballistic missile capabilities, and scientific personnel directly involved in weapons development. Iran’s missile attacks, however, targe civilian infrastructure: people’s homes (most who live in tall apartment buildings).
Anita
anitaParticipantSome time BEFORE I submitted the above, the Iranians shot misses into Israel, causing great destruction and the death of one person.. two hours into a supposed cease fire..
What’s next..?
Anita
anitaParticipantSupposedly, hopefully, this is one hour into a cease fire between the evil regime of Iran, that which has been calling for “Death to Israel!” and “Death to America!” for forty years-… and the tiniest country in the middle east: Israel.
It all came about four hours ago.
Will a cease fire hold by the time I am back to the computer..?
Anita
June 23, 2025 at 4:16 pm in reply to: Should I Forget about him, or was he the one that got away? #447056anitaParticipantDear Emma:
Thank you for your lovely messages—and for saying I looked beautiful in the photo! That means so much. You really do glow in yours, and I’m so glad my compliment landed well.
You asked how I knew that taking up space—both physically and emotionally—has been a struggle for you. I sensed it in the way you talked about yourself with Philip. You wrote things like, “I felt too plump, too manly, too much… I always thought women had to be dainty.”- Those words carry a deep belief that being fully yourself—your size, your feelings, your presence—might somehow be too much. And your height adds another layer, because it makes you visible, even when you don’t want to be. That’s not easy when part of you just wants to stay small, stay safe.
You also wrote, “I still wonder what would have been the biggest thing why he does not want me anymore.”- I think you’re probably right that the back-and-forth might have made it hard for him to feel emotionally steady. It likely became hard for him to trust the ground under his feet. That doesn’t mean your feelings weren’t valid—it just means both of you were carrying your own fears, and maybe he reached a point where he didn’t know how to keep holding on. And yes, if something were to change, it would have to come from him now.
As for what I do—I do work, but not for money. I volunteer on a farm where I help care for apple and pear trees, and I do my best to keep blackberry vines from taking over! There’s also a small community space at the farm where people gather to dance, listen to live music, and just be together. I help set up those events—and the photo you saw was taken during one of those dances last year. I was dancing indoors to a rock band, and I’m looking forward to dancing to the same band again this Saturday—this time outside, under the open sky.
Wishing you a peaceful day, Emma. You’re not too much—you’re just wonderfully and fully here. I’m glad we’re in touch.
With care, Anita
June 23, 2025 at 8:57 am in reply to: Should I Forget about him, or was he the one that got away? #447045anitaParticipantDear Emma:
Back in childhood, hiding or taking less space might have become a kind of protection—a way to stay small so you wouldn’t risk being judged or rejected. If people couldn’t see you, maybe they couldn’t hurt you either..?
But your height pushes against that instinct. It naturally makes you stand out—even when you’d rather not. That can feel scary or uncomfortable. It may deepen a disconnect between how you feel inside—small, cautious—and what the world reflects back to you: someone tall, noticeable.
Maybe you can the following as an experiment: go for a walk, not to blend in or disappear, but with the quiet goal of taking up space.
Pull your shoulders back. Let your spine rise tall, like it’s reaching for the sky. Imagine your body isn’t “too much,” but exactly right. Let every step say, “I belong here.”
Walk in front of others, not behind. Don’t shrink. Don’t fold into yourself. Let the breeze touch all of you.
If it feels awkward or strange at first, that’s okay—it just means it’s new. You’re gently showing your body that being seen doesn’t mean being in danger. Your presence isn’t something to hide—it’s something to grow into.
This isn’t about pretending to be confident. It’s about trying on what it might feel like to feel safe and whole in your own skin—open, proud, and fully here.
Let the world see you. 🚶♀️🌞 🌈
Anita
June 23, 2025 at 8:24 am in reply to: Should I Forget about him, or was he the one that got away? #447044anitaParticipantDear Emma:
Thank you for your kind words and the warmth of your message. When I told you yesterday that you looked “so very, very pretty,” it was before I read the part of your letter where you shared what your mother once said—that you weren’t as pretty as your sister.
I find myself wondering how my compliment landed. Did it make you uncomfortable? Did it feel undeserved? I hope that, even just a little, it touched something tender in you that has longed to feel seen as beautiful.
As for your letter: you didn’t just speak to Philip—you allowed your whole self to be seen. You took honest, heartfelt responsibility for how things unfolded between you, without placing blame or making excuses. Instead, you turned inward, exploring your fears and patterns with compassion and clarity. That makes your voice feel incredibly real.
Your fear of abandonment, your instinct to pull away before being left, and your longing to be enough—all of that came through with such emotional truth. And the way you connected those present-day struggles to old family wounds? You did it with reflection, not self-pity. There’s grace in that.
More than just grieving the relationship, you seem to be mourning the version of yourself who wasn’t quite ready to receive love or believe she was worthy of it. That kind of grief runs deep—and gives the letter its quiet ache.
Though you speak of wishing for another chance, your tone never pressures. It’s tender, filled with longing, but also with acceptance. You voice your hope without using it to bargain or demand.
If this letter were ever to reach him (even if it never will), it wouldn’t cry, “Take me back!” It would whisper: I understand now. I’m sorry. Thank you. You mattered to me. I’ve changed because I knew you.
Yesterday, when I first read the beginning of your letter, a part of me wished you could send at least part of it to Philip. It was so emotionally beautiful, and I hoped it might touch something in him—maybe even spark a desire to get to know you again.
But today, I see more clearly why that might not be a good idea. When someone blocks you—especially after something romantic—it’s a strong signal, something like: I can’t handle any more emotional contact! It’s not just about stopping communication; it’s about protecting their own emotional space.
Sharing your vulnerability is a brave and powerful act—but it also asks the other person to receive it. And in this case, Philip has shown that he can’t—or won’t—do that right now.
Respecting his boundary is an important part of your healing, and it’s the right choice for both your well-being and his.
As to the little you shared about your childhood in this letter- in my next post.
Anita
anitaParticipantJournaling: light outside, All day- no stretches of bluish sky, none through the whole of this Sunday. All grey, all the time.
And no birds. Did see a few rabbits though.
Light outside, no sign of darkness, no sign of the sun.. I remember the sun, bright.. none of that.
Wait, I hear birds.. Yes, oh yes, the relief! I hear them birds.. yes, I hear them, thank you!
… The Worldly Crisis is that of Distrust.
Trust- the most precious commodity.
T.R.U.S.T.
To be worthy of trust- nothing, Nothing more important, Nothing more crucial than making oneself worthy of
T.R.U.S.T.
.. Anita (that’s me.. Anita.. trustworthy)
anitaParticipantDear Alessa:
“I think it was one of your posts that wasn’t addressed specifically where you mentioned that you didn’t want sympathy or empathy.’- it was just for that moment, for that particular thing, in that particular post that I didn’t want empathy.
I have been taking in your empathy for some time, Alessa, and it means a lot to me ❤️
You have an amazing skill and talent, Alessa, in expressing empathy and thoughtfulness. You are one of a kind. Thank you so very much for your kind words!!! 🙏💐💛🌟🫶✨🌸
Anita
June 22, 2025 at 7:24 pm in reply to: Should I Forget about him, or was he the one that got away? #447041anitaParticipantMy goodness, J/ Emma- if this is you in the photo, then you look so very, very pretty- I wish I had blond hair and (what looks like) blue eyes 💙💫
I read only a part of your message to Philip (I will read the whole message more attentively tomorrow), but the first thought that came to my mind this evening was that it’d be a good idea if you sent it (the part that I read) to him, abbreviated though.. fewer words, but just as much emotion.
I’ll be back to you Mon morning (it’s Sun evening here).
Anita
anitaParticipantJournaling—just typing what’s on my mind- trigger Warning..:
It’s the 10th day of the Israel–Iran war, and not even a full day since the U.S. launched its attack on Iran. That’s the big picture. But within it, four members of my family whom I deeply care about, two I’ve never met—live under the shadow of the next missile, caught in a deadly game of Russian roulette. Who is hit, who is spared—it comes down to chance. Nothing more.
Then there’s the smaller, more personal picture: my 85-year-old mother, over there—frail, stooped, and unwell—could die at any moment. If not from a missile, then from the slow, ongoing erosion of her body.
And still, some tiny part of me— almost extinguished, but not quite—still longs to reach her. To reach her heart. To make her SEE me, HEAR me, Notice me.
Growing in—not up, but inward, shrinking into myself—I was a non-entity in the space between my mother and I. She was Everything, and I was Nothing. There was simply no room for me, so I was alive only, mostly, in the biological sense.
And now—she’s dying.
So yes, part of me wants to be there. To hold her, to let her know…
But she can’t. She never could see me, hear me, or notice my love for her.
It was always like I wasn’t there all those years and decades- nothing but a ghost.
It was only a dream that she might one day see me as more than a two-dimensional item: something to be fed, clothed, and taken to the doctor when burning with fever.
It wasn’t her fault. She simply couldn’t.
And I know, without a doubt, that she still can’t—maybe even less so now, in her frailty and decline.
Yet I believe there’s a part of her, locked deep within, that still longs for life. And for love. I can’t reach that part. I never could.
So I reach toward people here, in these forums, hoping—maybe, just maybe—I can reach someone.
And in that reaching, I am finding myself. No longer an object, but a three-dimensional being. A person. A human.
I am settling into a 3D existence. Giving space to my feelings. Exhaling the breath I’ve held in for far too long.
Decades of waiting to exhale.
Sitting here on this quiet Sunday late morning, almost noon, birds in the background- not loud, but still alive- I take it one day at a time, one hour at a time, because truly this is all I have, and this is all anyone has. The “happily ever after” is nothing but a fairytale- an imagining of youth.
Five minutes ago, some part of the Iranian regime has announced it’s getting ready for another wave of attack.. Sunday, 9:35 PM in Israel, 10:35 PM in Iran, one minute, one hour at a time.
And back to my mother-myself, where it all began for me: it’s the story of trying to reach the unreachable. In the core of me is that hopeless pursuit- to reach her, and in so doing, to get her to notice me and.. in so doing, to give myself the right to exist, the legitimacy to exist- as a 3-D creature, an animal, a person, a human being.. not a 2-D item.
Sunday, noon-time (12 pm) here, Sunday 10 pm in Israel, Sunday 11 pm in Iran.. next missile…?
Anita
-
AuthorPosts
Though I run this site, it is not mine. It's ours. It's not about me. It's about us. Your stories and your wisdom are just as meaningful as mine. 