Dear Astrid:

You’re very welcome! I can sense the depth of your emotions in your words, and I want to acknowledge how difficult this journey has been for you. Even though it’s been around seven months since the breakup, you still experience waves of sadness that feel just as fresh as when it first happened. This is a normal part of grief, but the intensity of these emotions suggests you may still be caught between the desire for reconciliation and the search for closure, making it hard to fully accept the breakup as final.

Perhaps your emotional attachment remains strong because you ended the relationship during what you described as “a rash state of overwhelm.” If the decision was made impulsively, it’s natural to question whether it was truly the right one—regret can stem from feeling that something was undone too quickly or without full consideration. Or maybe the separation feels like a personal failure, something difficult to confront.

If you see yourself as someone who nurtures and protects relationships (“I have never ended any sort of relationship or friendship before”), walking away could feel like betraying your own values, leading to internal conflict.

If your friendship or relationship was deeply tied to your identity, stepping away might feel like losing a part of yourself, leaving you uncertain about how to redefine your life without that connection. That kind of transition is incredibly challenging.

If any of these thoughts resonate with you, I’d love to read your reflections. No matter where you are in this process, your emotions are valid, and you deserve the time and space to navigate them in a way that feels right for you.

anita

Dear Peter:

Thank you for your thoughtful response—it really got me thinking. To answer your question, “What happened between connection and disconnection?” I believe it’s primarily early life abuse or betrayal that creates that divide. When a child experiences this from parents or society, it disrupts their natural sense of connection and leaves them feeling deeply wounded and disconnected.

Abuse and betrayal, in my view, are real events that cause an undeniable rupture. These aren’t misinterpretations of reality—when trust is broken by a parent, it truly happens. A child, not yet shaped by distorted thinking, perceives this betrayal clearly and accurately.

Your example of the sun neither rising nor setting beautifully illustrates the illusion created by thought and measurement. We may misinterpret the sun’s movements as separation (of day from night), but when it comes to early life betrayal, the disconnection is real—it isn’t a matter of misperception.

Maybe it’s the aftermath of early-life betrayal—the self-doubt and questioning of whether the betrayal was even real—that gives rise to distortions and misinterpretations, adding further layers of disconnection within. For the many of us who were betrayed early in life, recognizing the betrayal for what it truly was can serve as the first step toward reconnection within and without.

What do you think, Peter?

anita

Dear Nichole:

I can deeply relate to your fears of abandonment and being alone. Despite my mother being undependable as a source of emotional security, I remained dependent on her because there was no one else. Growing up in a tiny apartment with just the two of us, she was the only source of security I could hope for, even if she rarely provided it.

At some point, I grew very angry with her—for making my life revolve around her, for hurting me in countless ways. I longed for freedom from her, but as a helpless and dependent child, I doubted my ability to make it on my own. This created a strong push-and-pull dynamic: wanting to escape but fearing abandonment at the same time.

To protect myself from the pain of her behavior, I distanced myself emotionally as best I could. I suppressed empathy and love as a survival mechanism, because feeling those emotions fully—while enduring her blame, emotional volatility, and threats—was unbearable. Yet, deep down, the bond I had with her still instilled a fear of losing her entirely, whether I realized it or not.

I experienced a profound ambivalence, simultaneously holding anger, love, fear, and longing. My anger toward her and my desire to escape didn’t negate the fundamental bond I had as her child. Trying not to feel empathy or love was my way of protecting myself from further hurt, especially since those feelings were often met with shame, blame, or even threats of suicide or harm. Still, the fear of abandonment lingered beneath the surface, tied to the emotional vulnerability I worked so hard to suppress.

These mixed emotions—loving her but being angry, craving freedom but fearing abandonment—were overwhelming. The constant coexistence of love, anger, and fear left me emotionally confused and robbed me of the foundation needed to feel safe, take risks, and form my own identity. Instead, I remained stuck in that ambivalence and confusion.

A predictable caregiver teaches a child that their emotional world is manageable, building trust in both others and themselves. An unpredictable caregiver, on the other hand, teaches a child that emotions are unmanageable, fostering distrust and leading to emotional dysregulation—the hallmark of impulsivity and reactivity.

Like you, I took on the role of an emotional caretaker for my mother. I tried to fix or help her, not out of confidence, but as a survival instinct. It wasn’t about feeling capable—it was about trying to create some semblance of stability in a chaotic environment. Despite feeling weak and helpless, I felt compelled to take on this role. If I could make her better, maybe I could prevent things from getting worse. It gave me a sense of control, even if it was just an illusion.

I loved my mother deeply, though I spent much of my childhood convincing myself otherwise to shield myself from the pain of her struggles. She often blamed me for her unhappiness and threatened suicide, leaving me overwhelmed by empathy I couldn’t bear to feel. Suppressing my feelings made me believe I didn’t love her, but later in life, I came to realize that I did love her deeply—I was just consumed by anger and needed to protect myself.

Taking care of her wasn’t just about love; it felt like a duty. I believed that if I didn’t step into the role, no one else would. I hoped my efforts might make a difference, earn her acknowledgment, or bring me the support I so desperately needed. As a child, I thought I could fix her problems and make her happy, not understanding that I was carrying a burden far beyond my capacity. Far beyond any child’s capacity.

In many ways, my actions were about survival—suppressing empathy, stepping into the caretaker role, and trying to “fix” her were all ways I coped with the chaos. Even as I longed to be free from her, I also feared abandonment. She was a source of pain, but also familiarity, and losing her entirely would have meant facing an unknown I wasn’t ready for.

These conflicting feelings—love, anger, fear, and longing—were incredibly complex and shaped how I related to her and the world around me. Processing these dynamics over time has helped me understand myself better and has given me tools to heal.

You asked me how I am. Well, these days, I am finding peace in embracing empathy for others. It feels liberating to let go of suppressing empathy, to care for people, and to build meaningful connections.

Does any part of this resonate with you?

anita

Dear Melinda:

I’m so sorry to read about everything you’ve been through. The loss of your son alone is devastating beyond words, but to also face betrayal, loss, and such an unrelenting series of hardships is unimaginable. It’s no wonder you’re feeling overwhelmed—it would be more than enough for anyone.

Losing the photos and recordings of your son must have been especially heartbreaking, and I’m so sorry that happened.

Take things one day at a time. It’s okay to feel lost or scared, but try to remind yourself of the small acts of courage you’re showing each day—whether it’s caring for your kitty and dog, facing the day despite the fear, or simply breathing through the pain. Those moments matter, and they’re proof of the strength you might not even realize you have.

I hope that the restoration company provides access to your belongings soon, and that each day ahead brings a little more peace. You deserve light in your life again, even if it feels impossibly far away right now. Please keep holding on—you’re stronger than you realize, and your story matters more than you know.

anita

Dear Tom:

Thank you for the update! I’m glad to read that the call with the career shift company was helpful and gave you some actionable insights. Thinking broadly and connecting ideas back to your key values sounds like a great approach—it gives you the chance to explore new paths while staying grounded in what’s important to you.

It’s also reassuring to know that you’re not alone in how you’re feeling. Hearing that others share similar experiences can be such a comfort and a reminder that these transitions are part of a shared journey.

I know it’s not an easy road, but it’s clear that you’re approaching this with an open mind and a lot of determination, which is inspiring. Keep taking those small steps forward—you’re on the right track, and I’m confident you’ll make meaningful progress.

Wishing you a great weekend as well!

anita

Dear Nichole:

I want to start by walking down memory lane. The first time you posted and the first time I replied to you was on August 21, 2018. At the time, you were living in Chicago in your mother’s apartment with your younger brother, nephew, and father after leaving Florida, where you had lived with a boyfriend who betrayed your trust. It was an incredibly difficult period for you. Two significant themes stand out from back then:

* Fears of Abandonment and Being Alone: These fears kept you tied to the relationship despite the pain. You shared, “I am so afraid to let go,” “I am afraid to lose him,” and “I have a fear of abandonment.”

* Patterns of Impulsivity and Reactivity: You left your boyfriend and Florida abruptly, followed by excessive calling and texting, confronting other women, and more. You expressed, “It is so hard to control my impulsivity sometimes,” and “I also have a terrible temper.”

On September 26, 2018—just ten days after your mother passed away—you posted again. You reflected on your lifelong role as a caretaker for your mother, often sacrificing your own needs. You wrote, “I felt like I wasn’t shown much love growing up and was more so a caretaker for my mom throughout my life.”- While you resented this dynamic, you also struggled with guilt for not doing more to help her in her final weeks, saying, “I can’t stop feeling guilt from not being able to save her… I am so deeply hurt and sad.” At that time, you were grieving the loss of both your mother and the relationship you left behind in Florida.

On November 26, 2018, you wrote: “Our father also lives with us, who was never really in our lives. He is recently clean from drugs almost two years for the first time in my life.”- That day, you acknowledged a history of neglect, addiction, and abuse within your family. You reflected on your codependent tendencies and caretaking role, which highlighted a recurring pattern of emotional dependence. You shared, “I just have no clue how to be alone or start a life of my own,” and expressed how putting others’ needs above your own had shaped your life.

On December 3, 2018, you expressed profound grief and guilt regarding your mother’s passing, saying, “I wish I could go back in time and be there. And save her.” You also described moving from anger toward her to feelings of love and understanding—reflecting growth and the beginnings of emotional reconciliation. Your emotional intelligence and desire to heal were evident.

Four days later, you wrote about your mother: “The problem I have is I have too much empathy. I put myself in her shoes.”- You noted how your empathy often led you to excuse others’ harmful actions. Even then, your ability to articulate your struggles and recognize patterns showed remarkable strength and potential for growth.

On December 13, 2018, you shared profound realizations about your emotional patterns. You wrote, “I realize I have been looking for love all along. I have been pleasing people in hopes that they would love me.”- This acknowledgment, that your tendency to please others at your own expense stemmed from a lifelong search for validation, marked a turning point in understanding yourself.

You further reflected: “It’s hard to realize I have been mainly abused and manipulated my whole life by my parents, my brother, men, and even strangers.”- You recognized how this abuse shaped your sense of self-worth and led to your codependency. You also wrote, “It is so hard to start having boundaries and learning myself and how to start even being a ‘self.’”- This highlighted the deep challenge of redefining your identity and setting boundaries after years of living for others.

At the time, you were torn between prioritizing your own growth and maintaining your role as the emotional anchor for your family. You described the emotional ups and downs, writing, “Some days I am confident I can and I have boundaries and feel stable, and then there are days like today where I wake up with no confidence and my codependency habits are flaring.”- These words reflected your courage in confronting deeply ingrained patterns while seeking clarity and independence.

On January 2, 2019, you shared that you had moved out of your mother’s apartment and were now living in your aunt’s basement. You wrote, “Now that I am here at my aunt’s I feel very lonely. All the things I was complaining about I miss… I miss my brother and even my father.”

We continued to communicate over 27 pages, with our last exchange on that thread being on August 19–20, 2019. Sometime along the way, you moved out of your aunt’s basement and rented your own apartment in Chicago.

On September 11, 2019, you started this thread, writing, “What will my life be now?” This question reflected your search for purpose and direction amidst significant life changes. A month later, on October 6, 2019, you shared your thoughts about returning to Florida: “My latest thought (not sure if this is survival) is going back to Florida.”

Ten pages into this thread, while seeking and receiving psychotherapy and psychiatric help, on January 8, 2022, by now living independently in Florida, you shared, “I think I’m doing better with fear and loneliness. Although I struggle still sometimes.”- While these challenges remained, you acknowledged your improvement, highlighting your ability to reflect on your progress and emotional growth.

Your words, “I am learning so much about life lately… we can change them slowly but surely,” revealed a deeper understanding of human struggles and your own capacity for transformation—a hopeful and empowering outlook.

You also wrote, “I still tend to isolate vs. reaching out to people who bring wisdom and joy to my life.”- Even though you acknowledged your isolating tendencies, you were taking proactive steps, like joining a women’s group, to counter this pattern.

Three pages later, you posted yesterday. Your most recent post reflects substantial progress in your personal journey, alongside your ongoing effort to find balance, purpose, and connection. Your reflections show gratitude, self-awareness, and a drive to make your life more fulfilling.

C o N g R a T u L a T i O n S Nichole on achieving a major milestone: “I bought that condo I always wanted! I closed on my condo 12/06/24!”

This incredible achievement represents your ability to set and achieve goals independently—a huge step toward your desired autonomy and stability.

In your words, “… I decided to try out a Zoom connecting event,”- You demonstrate how you are actively working to establish connections and break out of isolation, showing your commitment to personal growth and fostering a sense of belonging.

You shared about your father staying with you during your move: “I had a lot of capacity to love him and accept him as he is… Not the father I would have dreamed of but the one I have.”- This beautifully reflects your emotional maturity and ability to navigate complex relationships by accepting people for who they are, even when they fall short of your expectations.

Your reflections on friendships show your yearning for meaningful, trustworthy connections: “I wonder if friends who care and support you and respect boundaries are a thing.”-This desire highlights your growth in prioritizing authentic relationships, even as you navigate challenges with finding such connections.

Your ability to let go of an incompatible relationship shows remarkable emotional independence: “I realized I had to swallow who I was to be with [him]… I want to continue to grow and continue to be stable financially and in all areas.”- By letting go, you demonstrated progress in prioritizing your values and well-being over staying in situations out of empathy or guilt.

You wrote about work dissatisfaction: “Work has become quite boring to me and unfulfilling. I feel I have more potential.”- Your interest in obtaining a real estate license, despite feelings of resistance or self-doubt, reflects your longing for purpose and career growth.

Finally, you shared: “I am at a place where I feel ok most days. I feel more peaceful… but often can tame [anxiety] with tools I have learned throughout the years.”-This acknowledgment of improvement in managing anxiety and worry demonstrates your ability to apply coping skills and maintain emotional stability.

Nichole, your journey is a testament to resilience, growth, and evolving self-awareness. The purchase of your condo marks a significant achievement in your path toward independence and stability, reflecting your strength and determination to create a space that is truly your own.

As you consider new career goals, explore connections, and continue building a life filled with meaning and a growing emotional health, know that the progress you’ve made shines brightly. While challenges like loneliness, dissatisfaction, and navigating relationships remain, your ability to set goals, assert boundaries, and reflect on your emotions reveals great potential for continued growth.

As I revisited our conversations, I came to realize that we have more in common than I had previously thought. I’d like to delve into this shared connection in a separate post tomorrow.

I am grateful to have witnessed your remarkable transformation over the years, Nichole! You inspire me through your courage and perseverance. Keep building the life you envision, one step at a time—you are capable of extraordinary things.

anita

Dear Devesh:

Thank you for your kind words—I’m truly glad that my perspective may be helpful to you. It means a lot to know that you feel a bit more confident and supported. You’re navigating a very challenging situation, and your openness and willingness to reflect are real strengths.

I’m here to guide and support you as you continue to explore your feelings and make thoughtful decisions. It’s clear how much you care about doing what’s best for both you and your girlfriend, and your commitment to understanding the situation shows your genuine heart.

Take your time to process everything, and don’t hesitate to reach out whenever you feel ready or need further guidance. You’re not alone in this, and I believe you’ll find the clarity and peace you’re searching for.

Wishing you strength and confidence as you move forward, Devesh.

anita