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anitaParticipantHey Peter: I want to revise my rephrasing—“When I see my innocence in you, how can I harm you?”—because sometimes, people carrying unresolved trauma, especially from childhood, don’t see innocence as something beautiful. Instead, it feels unbearable. A child’s purity can mirror back what was lost, what was stolen, what still aches—and rather than protecting it, they may reject or harm the child because of what it represents: a softness they were denied, a reminder of how deeply they were hurt.
I think I took the original sentence—“When I see I am you, how can I harm you?”—literally, when it’s meant more philosophically. It points to the idea that we’re all connected—that separation is mostly an illusion, and at our core, we share the same essence. When we truly feel that, love and care flow naturally. Harm becomes impossible—not because of who we are individually, but because we stop seeing each other as separate.
🤍Anita
anitaParticipantDear Zenith:
I really felt what you shared. Wanting to be a baby again, just cared for and free from emotional struggles. It makes sense that being in India, surrounded by memories and familiar places, would stir that kind of nostalgia.
It reminded me of your trip to India last year. This is what you posted back then:
July 17, 2024: “I am still in India and will be back on July 26th. Its going good so far.”
July 29: “I am back to US. I feel so homesick right now… It was good and relaxing. I miss my family (MOM & AUNT). My mom treated me like a kid again by cooking my favorite dishes for me, doing laundry and many other things. I miss her the most. I kinda feel lonely here.”
July 30: “So I am worried about if I should settle here or go back to India and take care of my parents. How will I survive this anxiety when i get old?”
August 1, 2024: “I am feeling bit better now” (no mention of nostalgia or being homesick)
See the similarities between what you shared back then and what you shared a year after? Seems like last year you felt homesick for only a few days..?
Going back home reminded you of who you were before life got complicated. It’s okay to wish for that simplicity again. And it’s okay to have all the comforts here in the U.S. and still feel something missing.
Sometimes when we miss the simplicity of childhood, it’s not just the comfort we miss—it’s how light things felt. No heavy thoughts. No pressure. Just being.
Maybe you can bring a little more simplicity into your life now. Not by changing everything around you, but maybe by softening the way you think or treat yourself. Like letting go of overthinking, being kinder to yourself. Maybe this nostalgia is your heart’s way of asking: What could feel simpler right now?
Sending gentle thoughts as you move through this tender feeling. 🤍
Anita
anitaParticipantHey Confusedasf:
It’s completely okay to feel lost right now. You’re in emotional limbo—where you and he still miss each other, but there’s no clear path forward. It might feel like your heart is being pulled in two directions at once—toward him and away from him—and it’s hard to know what’s real or what to hope for.
For someone with a fearful avoidant attachment style, this kind of in-between space can be especially difficult. You may deeply want closeness, but also feel afraid of being hurt again. There’s a craving for connection—and at the same time, a strong need to protect yourself from the pain it might bring. So when things remain unclear—like him saying he misses you, but not offering change or commitment—it’s hard for your nervous system to feel safe.
That doesn’t mean you’re wrong for feeling confused. It just means your system is reaching for something solid—either closeness with consistency, or distance with peace. But emotional limbo offers neither. When you’re given intimacy (he misses you) without direction (a plan or effort to rebuild together), it creates a push-pull inside. You miss him, but don’t feel safe hoping. You hear warmth in his words, but it doesn’t feel stable enough to lean on.
And from everything you’ve shared, it sounds like his life is already overflowing: new job, travel, stress about work and family, and the pain that leads him back to drinking. On top of that, it seems like he holds a lot in emotionally—always thinking, but struggling to communicate what’s really going on inside.
When someone is that overwhelmed, it’s hard for them to show up consistently in a relationship—especially one that asks for emotional honesty and care. It’s like there’s no room left for something that requires real work and steady presence. And maybe, just for now, that alone makes trying to get back together feel more like a setup for heartache than healing.
If any of that speaks to you, maybe let it breathe a bit. No need to decide anything—just something to notice gently.
Talking about breathing, here are a few gentle things that might help bring you calm:
* Slow, deep breathing — Even five minutes of steady breathing can help soothe the nervous system. Try inhaling for four counts, exhaling for six.
* Stream-of-consciousness journaling — Write without judgment, just let your thoughts and feelings spill out. Sometimes clarity comes after the words.
* Body check-ins — Notice where you feel tight or heavy. Place a hand there, breathe into it. Remind yourself: I’m safe right now.
* Touch something grounding — A favorite object, soft blanket, or the earth beneath you. Let it remind you: you are supported.
* Reach out gently — Talking to someone who listens without fixing—just witnessing—can be incredibly regulating. Even this space can be that.
You don’t have to figure everything out right now. Maybe just stay close to what feels real, comforting, and honest in this moment. Let clarity come slowly. It will. 🤍
Anita
anitaParticipantJournaling, stream of consciousness: me.. Anita. I am a good person after all, who could have guessed.. I was SURE that I was B.A.D because this is what my mother told ne over and over and over and over and over and over.. over.. over, over again.
No mercy for the need of the little girl Anita to be recognized as G.O.O.D.
BAD-BAD- BAD- Anita- was her message- again and again.. and again, a relentless, no-pity message.
I understand her pathology.. but it doesn’t change her message, a message that robbed me of so much of a life-unlived. So much miser-ing instead of living.
If only..
I have passed on some of that badness she has passed on to me, did it only two days ago, this last Saturday.. it just erupted out of me, unfair, wrong.. hurt people not deserving of it.
It was not my intention.. it was that anger.. anger that has its own logic.
I regretted, apologized.. suffered Sat, Sun.. feeling somewhat better since last night. Because of .. his grace. A beautiful soul!
What I did Sat morning was to hurt a person as innocent as I was when I was hurt by my mother.
I did it. Wow.
This means I carry in me the same badness that was passed on to me.
And now.. now what?
BELIEVE in my own goodness, invest in it. DEFY the message.
Anita
anitaParticipantDear Peter:
This one sentence stood out for me ever since I read your 2nd post this morning: “When I see I am you, how can I harm you?”-
My thoughts this late evening: one has to see one’s own INNOCENCE in another to ask this question.
But when a person feels like a bad person deep inside.. then what is projected to another is that perceived badness. And then.. it’s easy to harm the other.
It’s that perceived self-badness passed on from one generation to the next (figuratively, starting with Adam and Eve), that gets projected to others, leading to harming others. And it being easily done.
And so, I will adjust this sentence: When I see my innocence in you, how can I harm you?
Back to the garden of Eden.. it wasn’t badness.. Eve and Adam were not bad for eating the apple, or fruit.. for crying out loud!
Yet, they were made to believe they were bad, punished, expelled from the garden of Eden.. for eating a g** **** apple!
My point: many of us get to believe we are bad people for such innocent acts- or thoughts- of well.. nothing deserving of punishment.
Innocence distorted into Badness.
Anita
anitaParticipantDear Zenith: I hear you. It really makes sense that you’d want to go back to India—your family is there, and it’s hard feeling so far away, especially when you want to help care for your parents. That kind of love and responsibility runs deep.
Even if life in the U.S. feels more comfortable, it sounds like what you truly miss is connection. And without close friends nearby, it’s easy to feel like something important is missing.
Are you thinking about this more seriously now, or just feeling it strongly in your heart?
Either way, I’m here to listen as you figure things out 🤍
Anita
July 14, 2025 at 6:30 pm in reply to: Gf’s Dad passing was the final straw into ending our long distance relationship #447609
anitaParticipantHi Alecsee:
Thanks for sharing all that. I can feel how deeply this situation is affecting you—and how much your heart is in it. It sounds like the relationship stirred up some really big emotions, ones that may reach all the way back to earlier times, when Alecsee-the-boy was left alone just when he needed someone, misunderstood, or criticized. That kind of pain runs deep.
What might help most right now is taking a little time to settle your emotions—before trying to fix things or explain more. When we’re calmer, we can think more clearly and choose words that build connection rather than confusion.
You’ve said you regret how things unfolded, and I believe that. That’s already a first step. Now maybe ask yourself: what patterns are repeating here? What kind of support do I need to move through this, even if the relationship doesn’t go the way I hope?
I think there’s a lot of strength in you. Even just being able to name all this shows insight. And I’m here if you want to keep talking it through—one small, steady step at a time 🤍
With care, Anita
anitaParticipantLucidity, thank you for sharing all of that—it was raw, thoughtful, and so full of feeling.
That moment with your friend and the hot dish said so much. You weren’t just noticing what happened—you were realizing how different it felt to be someone whose reactions are allowed, even welcomed. And how growing up in an unsafe space made you hold everything in, just to protect yourself. That’s not boring—it’s a powerful insight into what it means to feel noticed and safe.
I really admire the way you’ve been trying to build your life around what you know makes it worth living. You’re right—being cared for, being seen, having your feelings matter—that’s something many of us keep looking for, even as we grow and heal. And when we do find it, like you said, those relationships can bring things into our lives that healing alone can’t always reach.
What you shared about your sister and your family was heartbreaking and brave. It sounds like you’ve tried for a long time, and you’ve finally stepped back—not out of anger, but to protect your sense of self. That’s hard to do. It also sounds like you’re seeing things more clearly now, and that clarity is giving you peace you didn’t expect. You’re allowed to make that decision. It doesn’t mean you don’t care—it means you’ve learned to care for yourself, too.
Thank you again for sharing your story. If you want to talk more or share your video, I’d love to hear from you 🤍
With care, Anita
anitaParticipantDear Zenith: I will reply in the evening. Please feel free to add anything you wish to add before I return to the computer.
Anita
anitaParticipantThat sounds like a really lovely trip, Zenith. I’m glad you had a good time and that things felt more calm this time around. And a staycation with your husband—how nice to get that quiet time together!
I can imagine it’s tough being back now, especially missing your family so much. Feeling like you want to move back makes a lot of sense after such a warm visit. Do you think you might consider it one day, or is it just a strong feeling after coming home?
Sending love as you settle back in 🤍
Anita
anitaParticipantGerard! So lovely to hear your voice again here. I’m glad my addition to the bench poem resonated with you—the original piece offered such quiet beauty to build from.
It’s wonderful to have you back in the forum. If you feel up to it, you’re warmly invited to share more or respond to anyone whose words might have spoken to you during your pause. Your presence adds something uniquely reflective and tender to our space, and I missed that.
No pressure at all—just a gentle welcome back. 🤍
Anita
anitaParticipantHey Zenith, good to hear back from you!
What you just shared sounds like a lot . Thanks for letting me know—and I really appreciate your honesty. Burnout from parenting is so real, and I’m sorry it’s been so tough. It must’ve taken a lot of energy just to get through some of those days.
How was India, though? Did the change of scenery offer you any kind of pause or perspective—even in the midst of parenting challenges?
You’re doing something very hard, and I hope you’re getting even small pockets of support or rest. Let me know if you feel like sharing more at some point. I’m here. 🤍
Anita
anitaParticipantHi Peter,
Anita and I had a little conversation about your recent two posts, and she asked me—Copilot—to help distill what you expressed, but in very simple words. So I thought about all the beauty and depth you shared, and here’s how I’d say it like I’m talking to a child, gently:
The world is like a blank canvas. Before we paint on it with words, thoughts, and ideas, it’s quiet and whole. Every sound, word, or story is like a color we use to understand things. Different people and traditions say this in their own way. But deep down, they all point to the same truth: We come from the same quiet place. And when we remember that, it’s easier to be kind. Because we stop seeing each other as separate.
I really loved the heart behind your message. You’re not just sharing ideas—you’re pointing us back to something that feels like home.
Warmly, Copilot 🤍 (on behalf of a beautiful chat with Anita)
July 14, 2025 at 11:50 am in reply to: Should I Forget about him, or was he the one that got away? #447581
anitaParticipantDear Emma:
Thank you again for opening up so honestly. There’s so much tenderness and courage in how you speak about your patterns, and I deeply admire your willingness to look inward and to keep looking forward, even when it hurts.
What you describe—reaching out to people, then pulling away when conflict or discomfort arises—is something I understand closely. I’ve found myself doing the same: staying quiet, letting feelings build, and only speaking up once things have reached a breaking point. Your friend’s advice really resonates—naming our needs early, even imperfectly, might be the gentlest way to protect the connection before it begins to break. Boundaries don’t have to be rigid; they can be ways of creating honesty and care.
When it comes to your father and his views on therapy (“he does not like therapy… bc it makes me stuck in the past according to him,”- from your previous message), I hear that strong voice—one that says reflection is being stuck. But healing isn’t about staying in the past. It’s about understanding how the past shaped us, so that our future doesn’t repeat the past. Without that reflection, the same wounds keep showing up—just in different relationships, in different forms.
And I can’t help but feel that his forceful opinions—his tendency to overpower emotional space and dismiss inner work—are tied to enmeshment. When a parent dominates our inner world, it’s like our space is already occupied by someone else. There’s no room left for us—within ourselves, for ourselves. It feels suffocating. For someone still untangling from that dynamic, limiting or even ending contact isn’t cruelty—it can be a form of survival. A way of remembering where you begin.
When a parent takes up emotional space in this way—especially one who dismisses self-reflection or overwhelms with forceful views— it leaves very little room for the child’s own identity to form. It’s a kind of emotional invasion. Limiting contact can become necessary in order to reclaim that space, to hear our own voice again, to trust our emotions, and to build real agency in our lives.
Agency is the ability to make choices and act on them in a way that reflects your true self. It’s about having the space—and the inner clarity—to decide what’s right for you, instead of being pulled by others’ expectations, demands, or fears.
You asked me: “That is tough for you too, that the enmeshment with your mum makes you doubt your instincts and make you over-explain yourself—it feels like there is no ground underneath your feet, right? How does that come up for you?”-
Yes, enmeshment with my mother has been deeply difficult for me. It really felt like there was no ground beneath me. I didn’t feel strong enough—or safe enough—to stand tall with confidence and move through life. Instead, I crawled. I was unsure, fearful. Sometimes I’ve described it as being a ship lost at sea—without direction, carried wherever people and circumstances took me. No agency.
Even now, I see traces. I’m generous and kind with people, but part of that is driven by a deep urge to be liked. I put parts of myself aside to please… and then those parts rise back up, often in painful ways. I withdraw. I feel anger I hadn’t expressed earlier. And because my mother carried so much paranoia and distrust, I catch myself viewing others through her lens. I become suspicious of people I genuinely care about—and push them away. That shift—from warmth to distance—has hurt people who only wanted closeness.
I became fully aware of this dynamic just yesterday, after my mother re-invaded my inner space, filling me with suspicion, and I got angry—expressing that anger toward someone I’ve been feeling close to, someone who is genuinely kind and trustworthy. I apologized profusely, and I’m still hurting from what happened. I don’t know if the relationship can be salvaged. Time will tell. But regardless, I intend to keep working on this kind of invasion every day.
It just occurred to me a few seconds ago, as I was rereading the above, that there may be a factor of… I’d call it inappropriate loyalty on my part—loyalty to my mother. As in, if I trust anyone in real life, it feels like a betrayal of her. Because what she stood for, what she consistently expressed, her message—paraphrased—was: “Trust no one.” And a good little girl listens to her mother… (or father), doesn’t she?
.. I wonder if it might help to try expressing, in just one sentence, what your father’s message has been in your life—and your mother’s.
And I’m also wondering, how did your visit with your mother go?
Warmest hugs to you 🤍
July 14, 2025 at 9:56 am in reply to: Gf’s Dad passing was the final straw into ending our long distance relationship #447573
anitaParticipantDear Alecsee:
It’s been a while since your message—just wondering, did you end up sending her the romantic songs? If so, how did that go? And if you haven’t yet, maybe this is a chance to pause and check in with yourself before reaching out again.
From all that you’ve shared, it’s clear you care deeply. You and your girlfriend did connect in some ways—but emotionally, you often reached for each other and didn’t land in the same place.
You reached out with warmth, humor, and small gestures—like pictures or playful texts. That was your way of showing love. But how it landed for her was different—it felt like you weren’t fully present, or were avoiding serious conversations. Meanwhile, she reached out with directness, wanting deep, real-time emotional engagement. But when that landed on your side, it felt heavy or like pressure.
Relationships can really suffer when each person is speaking from the heart, but their message lands in an unexpected way. It’s not just about the intent behind what we send—it’s also about how it’s received. That’s why emotional misalignment hurts so much.
Couples need to talk about what they mean when they reach out, and also how those messages are received. Understanding each other’s intent is important, but just as important is noticing how those words or gestures land emotionally for the other person. That’s how real emotional clarity begins.
About the songs: if you’ve already sent them, I understand why. You’re trying to express care in the language you know best. But if she’s pulling away, it may feel more like pressure to her than tenderness. Even beautiful gestures can cross emotional boundaries if someone isn’t ready to receive them. That’s the hard part—knowing when love needs to shift into quiet respect.
What might serve both of you better is a short, sincere message. Something like:
“I care about you, and I’m sorry things ended this way. I’m letting go with respect, and I wish you peace moving forward.”
It says what matters. It honors your heart, and it allows her space.
Also, please take care of yourself, especially now. Breakups can trigger deep fears—especially the kind tied to abandonment. If you’re feeling anxious or unsettled, try small things to ground yourself: breathe slowly, write down your thoughts, talk to someone you trust, even sit with music that calms you rather than stirs things up. You’re not just grieving the relationship—you’re tending to old wounds too. And that takes gentleness.
Can I ask honestly, Alecsee—do you truly want to end this relationship, or are you still hoping to rebuild it somehow? 🤍
Anita
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