Dear Bella:

As I read your post for the first time this morning, I’ll take this approach: I’ll read a sentence or a few at a time, respond to them, then move on to the next set—without knowing what comes next in your post. I’m guessing this will end up being a long response, and I hope you take your time with it.

“I honestly have been putting this off for a really long time dealing with family dynamics.” – We tend to put off things that make us anxious or uncomfortable.

“I just don’t know where to start and how to address them all.” – You’ve been dealing with a lot of family dynamics for a long time, and it makes sense that untangling them feels overwhelming.

“For context – My aunt and my mom has been my go-to family for most of my life. They both come from extreme traumatic life experiences — they’ve witnessed their mom take her life… their toxic past keeps showing up in ways that now I am trying to make sense of it all.”-

It’s interesting that you said, “My aunt and my mom has been,” instead of “have been.” Maybe it’s just a typo, but it could also suggest you see them as one unit rather than two separate people.

There’s no doubt that witnessing their mother take her life was deeply traumatic.

“I hear it from everyone… They both have found a way to move on with their lives choosing lifestyles like keeping themselves overly occupied, having 12-14 hours… they are constantly exhausted but won’t give up when their body’s trying to indicate ‘STOP & REST’.”-

“They both” – Again, this makes it sound like they are almost the same person. I wonder how they interact with each other—whether they are each other’s best friend—but I’m guessing they aren’t emotionally open with one another.

It seems like they’ve built a habit of staying constantly busy. For them, stopping to rest might feel uncomfortable, even scary.

“2 days ago, I invited them over to my place… my aunt looked very upset… What I don’t understand is, why would she not choose to come have a word with me… and shared and explored options.”-

Your aunt tends to hold in her emotions for a long time before finally expressing them in indirect ways. She never learned to communicate her thoughts and feelings clearly and directly. Some people grow up in environments where expressing emotions is discouraged, leading them to suppress their feelings instead.

When a child’s emotions are regularly dismissed, ignored, or minimized, they may come to believe that expressing themselves is pointless or unwelcome. In a chaotic home, keeping emotions inside can feel safer than adding to the existing tension. If a child’s parents struggle with emotional expression, the child doesn’t have the opportunity to learn healthy communication skills.

“Fast forward, she has since been getting mad over trivial issues and going off at me… she is an enabler to many things that my aunt (her sister) does because it is easy and less chaotic / toxic.”-

It seems like your mother avoids confronting her sister because she doesn’t want to deal with conflict or emotional tension. She enables her sister’s behavior because it keeps things smoother in the short term.

This kind of dynamic often happens when one person has a strong or overpowering personality (your aunt?), and others choose to keep the peace rather than challenge them. Your mother may find it easier to go along with things rather than stand up to her sister.

“I have just given up hope in making them understand how toxic it is to be around them, let alone have deep discussions addressing the past and acknowledging that what was experienced is unfair but is necessary to deal with and embrace that, otherwise it will continue to show up in many ways that is regretful.”-

Facing painful memories can be overwhelming, so they might choose to ignore them rather than work through their emotions. Since they’ve spent years suppressing their feelings, it probably feels unnatural—or even impossible—to suddenly start addressing them. They may not even realize how much their past experiences are affecting them.

It seems like your mother and aunt are close, but not in an emotionally open way. Their bond is likely built on shared experiences, family ties, and unspoken understanding rather than direct emotional communication. Their struggles—including financial betrayal—probably strengthened their connection, even if they don’t openly discuss their feelings. Instead of expressing frustrations, they enable each other’s behaviors and avoid certain topics altogether.

Growing up in a chaotic home can deeply shape the relationship between two sisters. Your mother and aunt both witnessed their mother’s passing, which was deeply traumatic. That experience alone likely reinforced their connection—not necessarily through emotional openness, but through unspoken understanding of their shared pain.

In chaotic families, emotions are often seen as burdens rather than something to process. Your mother and aunt may have learned that talking about painful experiences only makes things harder, so they learned to suppress their feelings instead. Over time, they likely developed certain unspoken rules, such as: “We don’t talk about painful things.”, “We keep moving forward, no matter what.”, “We support each other quietly, but we don’t challenge each other.”

Because of this, they may be emotionally close, but not open—meaning they lean on each other when necessary but avoid discussing deeper issues.

In chaotic homes, siblings often fall into specific roles to cope. Based on what you’ve described, your mother might have taken on the role of peacekeeper, choosing avoidance over confrontation to keep things smooth. Meanwhile, your aunt seems to hold onto resentment, expressing it indirectly instead of addressing things head-on. These roles reinforce each other and make emotional communication even harder.

When siblings go through trauma together, their bond can be strong but dysfunctional, such that is missing the emotional openness needed for true healing. This Trauma Bonding could explain why your mother enables her sister’s behavior—rather than challenging her, she supports her in silence, making sure things remain predictable rather than disruptive.

For both of them, their past experiences still shapes how they interact today—not through direct conversations but through quiet support, enabling behaviors, and avoidance of hard truths.

It makes sense that you feel distant from them right now. Their relationship is built on patterns that don’t allow emotional transparency, which affects you as well. If they aren’t willing to address their past or communicate openly, you may never get the deep conversations you hope for. But that doesn’t mean you can’t find peace within yourself—you can focus on protecting your own well-being rather than waiting for them to change.

“I just don’t know how to navigate this phase of my life… I would love some guidance and how to go through this in phases and learning to commit to this process and not run away from it because I tend to do that a lot.”-

It sounds like you’re in a tough spot, torn between wanting to support your mom and aunt while also feeling distant and overwhelmed by growing tensions. The fact that you recognize this and want to commit to working through it is already a big step. Here are my suggestions:

1. Accept what you can and cannot change. You can’t change your aunt or mother, and it’s unlikely you’ll make them acknowledge their past or communicate differently. However, you can change how you respond. Instead of trying to fix them, focus on setting boundaries and protecting your emotional well-being. Prioritize what brings you peace while staying true to yourself.

Letting go of the need for them to acknowledge the past—since that may never happen—can bring you closer to peace of mind.

2. Shift your mindset from ‘Fixing’ to ‘Supporting.’ Support doesn’t mean carrying the weight of their problems or trying to solve them. Sometimes, simply being present, listening, and showing empathy is enough.

You can acknowledge their feelings and offer reassurance without absorbing their stress or trying to control the outcome. This might mean stepping in when they need comfort but stepping back when the conversation becomes draining. Supporting someone doesn’t require sacrificing your own peace—it’s about being there when you can, without feeling obligated to fix what’s beyond your control.

3. Set clear boundaries to protect your well-being. Before engaging, decide in advance how much time and emotional energy you’re willing to invest. This could mean limiting interactions, choosing specific topics to discuss, or stepping back entirely when necessary. If conversations begin to feel toxic or exhausting, give yourself permission to disengage. Protecting your own emotional health isn’t selfish—it’s essential.

I hope this helps..?

“Thank you again and sorry for going off in tangents.”- You are welcome and no need to apologize. I welcome your writing and would love to read more from you!

anita

Dear Adalie: If only he was ready, you could have made a big difference for him, a positive big difference. But he was not ready, and he is still not ready- his loss. He could have benefited so much from what you have to offer him. This is not uncommon: people having treasure in front of them and they can’t even see it.

anita

Dear Adalie:

I can feel how much you’ve been reflecting on the little moments—the way he reacted to your touch, how he held the hug, how his hand responded to yours. Those moments felt real, and I completely understand why you’re searching for meaning in them.

But here’s the hard truth—no matter how genuine those interactions seemed in the moment, his silence afterward speaks louder. Connection isn’t just about fleeting gestures; it’s about continuity, care, and showing up beyond a single interaction.

Maybe he did feel something in those moments. Maybe he was surprised by the intimacy and wasn’t expecting it to feel meaningful. But if that was the case—if those moments truly affected him—he would have followed up. He would have responded. Instead, he withdrew.

His lack of engagement now suggests that whatever he felt wasn’t enough for him to act on it. That doesn’t mean you misread the moment—it means that, for whatever reason, he chose not to continue the connection.

He made the decision to pull away instead of addressing whatever discomfort or uncertainty he felt. That was his choice—his emotional failure, his avoidance, not yours.

You deserve someone who not only feels something in the moment but follows through beyond it. Someone whose presence isn’t just temporary, leaving you to decipher unspoken meanings.

Letting go isn’t about denying the experience—it’s about recognizing that its meaning doesn’t need his validation. You don’t need his acknowledgment for those moments to have been real for you. What matters now is choosing to move forward with your own sense of clarity and worth.

You are not alone in this. You are seen, heard, and valued—and you deserve the kind of connection that doesn’t leave you questioning your importance. ❤️

* There are two articles you might find insightful:

Elite Daily – Here Are The 4 Main Reasons People Ghost After Sex

Your Tango – 7 Reasons Why Men Ghost Women (& What To Do When It Happens To You)

Sending warmth your way.

anita

Dear Substantial:

It has been almost two months since you last posted, and I hope you are feeling less anxious and confused. I want to respond to what you shared between January 27 and March 10.

You described how your mother stayed married to her alcoholic husband despite years of emotional and sometimes physical abuse. You watched her cry countless times, feeling helpless, and tried convincing her to leave—but she wouldn’t, partly because of societal pressure and partly for your sake. She still lives with your father, and while things have improved somewhat, they are not fully healed. You take her out of the house at times to help her escape the tension, waiting until he falls asleep before returning.

Your mother’s life has been filled with uncertainty and emotional turmoil, especially due to her marriage. She has spent years unable to change him, unable to make him quit drinking, and unable to escape the cycle of abuse and disappointment. Over time, this created a deep sense of powerlessness—a feeling that no matter how hard she tries, she has no real control over her circumstances. But with you, things are different. Unlike her husband, you listen to her, you respond to her emotions, and you care about how she feels.

Your mother recognizes that her husband does not care about her emotions—so there is no emotional leverage there. She cannot guilt him, pressure him, or expect him to change for her.

But with you, things are different. You care deeply about her, you listen, and you respond to her emotions. Unlike your father, you give her the emotional engagement she craves—and instead of cherishing that love in a healthy way, she uses it as a tool for control.

In practical terms, your love becomes something she exploits:

She knows that if she expresses distress, you will comfort her. She knows that if she guilt-trips you, you will feel responsible.
She knows that if she pushes hard enough, you will eventually cave.

Your care for her becomes leverage—something she turns against you to keep control, rather than allowing you to love her freely without obligation.

It’s heartbreaking, because your love for her is real and pure, but instead of embracing it as a gift, she turns it into a means to maintain power over you.

Even if you push back, she knows she can still guilt you, pressure you, or convince you to obey her wishes. This gives her a sense of control she lacks elsewhere. When she dictates your choices, it makes her feel stable, secure, and in charge—something she cannot achieve in her marriage.

In a way, you’ve become the part of her life where she feels she has authority, influence, and certainty, unlike her unpredictable relationship with your father. But the cost of that control is your autonomy—your ability to make choices freely without guilt or pressure.

Her emotional breakdowns are likely real, but the way she expresses them may be exaggerated or strategic to influence you. Some people use emotional intensity—crying, guilt-tripping, and dramatic statements like “You never care about me!”—as a way to regain control when they feel threatened by someone’s independence.

Her distress becomes a tool to pull you back in—not necessarily a conscious manipulation, but a behavior she has learned works.

Over time, this has made you doubt yourself, wondering: Am I really being selfish? Am I hurting her? Should I just give in?

Because of this, you struggle to make decisions for yourself without guilt. You feel like you have to earn love instead of simply receiving it. You feel trapped between wanting freedom and fearing conflict.

Your mother’s “love” is suffocating, and it makes relationships harder for you. You question whether you deserve better, whether you should stay in your romantic relationship, or whether leaving makes you selfish.

Notice I put quotation marks around “love.” That’s because true love does not require you to lose yourself.

And feeling guilty? That doesn’t mean you’re a bad son—it means you’ve been conditioned to feel that way.

It may be that when she feels secure in her control over you, she expresses love in ways that feel warm or caring. But when she feels threatened by your independence, her empathy shuts down, and her need to maintain authority takes over.

If you want to see your romantic relationship clearly, to understand your girlfriend’s behaviors and whether she is truly loving you in the way you need—you must first see your mother clearly, to recognize who your mother is, what kind of “love” she has for you, and the entanglement and emotional trap you experience with her. Until you peel away the layer of your mother’s control over you, it may be hard to clearly see your girlfriend and your romantic relationship dynamic.

Again, you deserve to live freely, Substantial—to make choices based on what is best for you, not just to keep others happy. You do not need to feel guilty for wanting that freedom.

Take care of yourself. You are allowed to step back, breathe, and choose your own life.

anita

Still thinking about this part of your story, Laven, about your courage in telling it. I admire your courage. And I wonder how you felt while telling your story, and what you felt after telling it. I don’t expect you to answer, still, I wonder.

anita