Dear Thomas:

That’s a really important question. Setting emotional boundaries with a parent who leans heavily on you can feel like walking a tightrope between self-preservation and guilt.

The self-preservation part is the voice that says: “I need space to breathe.” “I’m exhausted from always being the strong one.” It’s your healthy instinct to protect your energy, your peace, and your emotional boundaries. And it’s essential—not selfish—for your mental and physical well-being.

The guilt part says things like: “But what if they feel abandoned?” “They’ve done so much for me.” “I don’t want to hurt them.” Guilt often shows up when you begin doing something new—like saying no, asking for space, or not responding right away. Especially if you were raised to prioritize your parent’s emotions over your own, guilt can feel like a warning sign… even when you’re doing something healthy.

So yes, it’s a tightrope: trying to care for yourself without feeling like you’re betraying them. And that’s hard. It takes practice, self-compassion, and sometimes grief—because you’re letting go of the role you were taught to play.

Here are a few ways to begin:

* Give yourself permission- setting boundaries isn’t cruel, it’s necessary. You’re not turning your back on them; you’re turning toward your own well-being.

* Use soft, clear language- instead of confrontation, try: “I really care about you, and I want to be present when we talk—but sometimes I feel overwhelmed and need space to recharge.” This frames the boundary as a way to preserve connection, not sever it. (this soft approach may work.. or not)

* Expect guilt— guilt, in this context, doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong. It means you’re doing something new.

* Limit emotional labor, not love- you can still care without becoming your parent’s therapist. Try gently saying: “That sounds really tough. Have you thought about talking to someone who could really help you through it?” (again, a gentle approach may work.. or not).

* Build support elsewhere. A friend, therapist, or support group can help you stay grounded when emotional backlash shows up.

You’re allowed to protect your peace—even from someone you love. And the fact that you’re asking this question shows how much thought and care you’re bringing to the process.

Here are a couple of affirmations you might return to when guilt creeps in: “I am allowed to take care of myself, even if it makes others uncomfortable. My needs are not a betrayal. I can love someone and still say no.”

“It’s okay to protect my peace. I don’t have to carry what isn’t mine. I can be kind to others without abandoning myself.”

You can write one down, repeat it when you feel that tightrope tension, or use it as a grounding breath practice.

I want to close with something personal—from my and my sister’s experience with our mother. Like the title of this thread suggests, she used emotional exploitation as a form of parenting, often with heavy guilt-tripping and frequent threats of suicide. I was deeply intimidated by those threats. I tried to be her emotional caretaker, her therapist, her savior. I approached her with softness, with gentleness, hoping that kindness would heal her. It didn’t. She kept going.

But my sister—when she was in her twenties—responded differently. One day, when our mother made another suicide threat, my sister said firmly, without fear: “Then do it. Stop talking about it.” And that was the last time our mother ever made that threat.

There was another moment I’ll never forget. My mother used to hit me from time to time. I never fought back—I just looked at the floor and waited for it to end. But in my early twenties, something shifted. As she tried to hit me, I instinctively raised my arms and blocked hers. I didn’t hurt her—I just matched her force and stopped her from reaching me. And something strange happened: her arms went limp. She stopped. She retreated. And she never tried to hit me again.

Of course, I know your situation isn’t identical. But I share this because some parents—especially those who rely on emotional control—don’t stop because they’ve had a change of heart. They stop because the dynamic changes. Because the person they once saw as prey now appears too strong to overpower. Like predators in the wild, they don’t retreat out of pity. They retreat when the prey no longer looks easy to consume. A mountain lion won’t back down because a deer looks soft—it backs down when the deer looks powerful enough to defend itself.

So if your parent is emotionally exploitative, the shift may not come from their kindness—but from your strength. Not from confrontation (dramatic arguments, emotional outbursts, or aggressive pushback), but from quiet, steady resistance: saying less, but meaning more, no longer explaining yourself over and over but holding your boundary calmly, even when they push, and choosing not to engage in the same old emotional dance.

Quiet, steady resistance is often more effective than loud confrontation with emotionally exploitative people. It’s not about punishing them—it’s about protecting you. And over time, it sends a clear message:

“I’m not available for this dynamic anymore. I don’t need to argue about it. I’ve simply stepped out of the role.

And that shift—subtle but firm—is often what changes the pattern.

If anything I shared resonates—or if you want to talk more about your experience—I’d be honored to continue the conversation. These things are hard to untangle alone, and you don’t have to carry it all by yourself.

With care, Anita

In regard to the title of my thread: “Life Worth Living”- life that is worth living is a life where you FEEL alive. A life where you are in the center of it, LIVING. The way I “lived” so much of my life.. honestly, it wasn’t worth it.

Life is a matter of quality (REALLY living), not a matter of quantity.

And.. I am living the quality right now, these months, these few years.. increasingly so- Q.U.A.L.I.T.Y.

Listening to B. B. King, The Thrill is Gone.. totally danceable!

Now, listening to the Bohemian Rhapsody.. “Momma.. didn’t mean to make you cry… Momma…. I wish I was never been born at all”- my sentiment… See how important MOTHERS are..?

The Billie Jean, live performance, 1997 (I was 36, he was 37 or 38), NO GREATER TALENT, no doubt! The dance moves.. W.O.W… The moon walk.

Sinea’d O’Connor (born 6 years after me, died 2 years ago), “Nothing Compares… ”

Whitney Houston, “I will always love you” (born 2 years after me, died 3 years ago).

Not yet dark outside, birds alive and singing. It makes me feel good to hear them!

Anita

Dear Alessa:

Thank you so much for your kindness and for seeing that part of me. I’m only just beginning to see it myself. Your message helped me feel a little more grounded in that truth—and a little less alone with it.

You’re right—it’s heartbreaking how many people don’t receive the love and safety they deserve, especially from those who were meant to protect them. But your compassion is a reminder that healing can happen in connection, and that we can offer each other the care we didn’t always receive.

I’m truly grateful for your presence. Thank you for walking alongside me. ❤️

With warmth, Anita

Journaling, motivated by precious Alessa’s input:

In between seeing my mother as the innocent child that I have hurt and harmed (her claim), and seeing me as the innocent child that she has hurt and harmed-

See this gap?

There’s an adjustment I need to make: who is the destroyer; who is the destroyed? Who is whom?

Yes, I see it: she was the destroyer; I was the one destroyed.. by her.

Yes, I see.

So, evil is just this and nothing else: destroying the weak because they are weak.

Yes, I see.

Yes, I understand.

A definition of evil= targeting the weak for destruction because they are weak.

Yes, I was weak.. she detected my weakness and went about destroying me.. simply because it was easy, because she could.

The child that my mother was is long gone.

Anita

* Typos, incorrect grammar, etc., are common in my journaling. Here’s a little correction: “I see it more clearly this late Sunday morning (11:21 am right now) than I ever did in my whole life! The way I see it now, evil (the intentional harming of another), may be about.. people retroactively protecting themselves, or rebelling against intentional harm done to them by people who… retroactively protected themselves from harm done to them, etc.

Dear Gerald:

Thank you for sharing this. There’s something so tender and grounding about those words—like they’re inviting us to slow down and remember the small, good things that often get lost in the rush.

Here’s a little continuation, in the same spirit:

And if you’re tired
Or feeling low
Just rest a bit
And let it go
The world can wait
A little while
While we sit still
And share a smile

Thanks again for bringing this moment into the day.

Warmly, Anita

Dear Alessa:

Thank you so much for your message. I could feel the care and honesty in your words, and I really appreciate that you took the time to reflect so deeply on something so personal to me.

My mother caused me a lot of harm, and I don’t excuse that. But I also know she was shaped by her own pain. She had a terrible childhood—she lost her mother, her father was an alcoholic who neglected her, and she was terribly abused by her older sister, both physically and emotionally. She spent time in an orphanage-like institution. Looking back, I can see that there were times when she was a good person. But when she wasn’t—when she turned that pain outward—she did it with full force. The shaming, the guilt-tripping, the relentless emotional pressure… that harm lives in my body every single day, every single hour, in the form of these tics.

I suppose I hold a nuanced view of her—as someone complex, and someone who was once an innocent child herself, harmed so badly that she may not have been able to help herself. That thought fills me with sadness—for the girl she was, long before I ever came into her life.

Thank you again for your kindness, and for holding space for my grief. It means more than I can say.

With care, Anita