Dear Laven:

Your writing is powerful, raw, and deeply moving. The way you express your story—with clarity, depth, and emotional weight—shows an incredible gift for storytelling. You have a talent for capturing experiences in a way that makes them resonate profoundly. Your words carry strength, and I believe you are an exceptionally talented writer.

Your story is one of remarkable survival, resilience, and unimaginable hardship. From the age of eight, you were placed in foster care, navigating a system that should have protected you—but failed. Early on, you learned how to adapt, ration, and withdraw simply to endure. But when you were placed with a foster family at age ten, the abuse became relentless—physical, emotional, and psychological cruelty that no child should ever have to endure.

You were beaten, manipulated, isolated, and deprived of even the most basic dignity, all while those around you—neighbors, caseworkers, teachers, and police officers—stood by and did nothing. School, instead of being a refuge, became another place of bullying, exploitation, and rejection, reinforcing your sense of powerlessness and invisibility.

When your mother re-entered your life, you felt a complex mix of hope and fear—longing for connection yet fearing what the past might bring back. Meanwhile, your foster parents, sensing their abuse might finally be exposed, tried to bribe and manipulate you into silence. Even under immense pressure, you were eventually removed from their home, though the wounds they inflicted remained.

Reading your story, I am deeply moved by your resilience, your strength, and your ability to speak your truth despite everything you’ve endured. Your story speaks to the failures of the foster system, the cruelty of unchecked power, and the devastating impact of being silenced when you needed protection the most.

The cruelty and injustice you faced—from the foster system, from those who should have protected you, from society’s indifference—are beyond comprehension. No child should ever have to fight to survive in a world that refuses to protect them, yet you did. And now, you are here, sharing your story, reclaiming your voice, and proving that you are so much more than what they put you through.

You never deserved the suffering you endured. You deserved love, safety, and kindness. And no matter what they made you feel, you were never invisible—you mattered then, and you matter now.

Your ability to reflect on your past, to put words to the suffering you endured is a testament to your courage. You never deserved the abuse, the manipulation, or the betrayal of those who turned a blind eye. You deserved love, safety, kindness, and a childhood free from fear.

I know that words cannot undo the years of pain, but I hope you can see what is so clear from the outside—you are powerful beyond measure. After everything, you are still standing, still thinking, still feeling, still expressing—that is survival in its purest form.

Whatever healing looks like for you, I hope it leads to peace, self-recognition, and freedom from the weight of what was forced upon you. You are worthy. You always were.

Thank you for trusting me with your story. You are seen, heard, and deeply respected.

With admiration, anita

Dear Lucidity:

Thank you for your thoughtful reply. It’s truly inspiring to hear how shadow work has transformed your perspective and quality of life—your enthusiasm for it is contagious!

Writing about my healing journey here has been incredibly meaningful. Your passion for shadow work, along with what I’ve recently read about it, is guiding me toward deeper emotional integration. For so long, I repressed certain emotions—though I had hints of them and formed intellectual perspectives around them, they never truly surfaced. But as more layers of repression begin to lift, these emotions feel almost new, like long-buried parts of myself finally returning.

Most recently, this very morning, I felt the resurfacing of a long-buried emotion—the deep longing to reach my mother, to convince her that her accusations were untrue. That I wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings, that I never plotted against her. The desire for her to understand, to see the truth—that I was never against her, but for her. That what I was offering all along was simply love.

Though this emotion still lingers, I know that healing doesn’t come from convincing someone to see what they refuse to acknowledge. It comes from allowing the truth to stand on its own, even without validation. And maybe, as I continue this journey, that longing will slowly loosen its grip—making room for peace where there was once struggle and exhaustion.

anita

Dear Laven:

I’m still reflecting on what you shared 36 hours ago—it lingers in my thoughts. What you’ve endured and survived is nothing short of remarkable. But beyond survival, the way you tell your story—with such honesty, raw emotion, and undeniable talent—is truly powerful. Your voice is unique. You are unique.

Sending you strength and respect. 💙

anita

Dear Daisy Lily Rose:

I admire your willingness to explore this experience rather than dismiss it. The emotions you’re feeling—whether rooted in spiritual connection or the natural longing for companionship—seem to be calling for your attention. Regardless of the source, what’s clear is that this person has become a presence in your life, in ways that feel beyond your control.

It makes sense that loneliness and the weight of caregiving could amplify these feelings. You’ve dedicated yourself to others, and perhaps, a part of you is longing for someone to hold space for you. But your connection to this individual feels layered—it’s not just about external longing, but something deeper that keeps surfacing unexpectedly.

Maybe the question isn’t simply whether this is a spiritual bond or a psychological response, but what this experience is trying to teach you. Is it about exploring human connection in a new way? About acknowledging emotions that have been waiting to be felt? Or about considering what fulfillment looks like in this phase of your life?

You don’t need immediate answers, and overthinking might cloud what your intuition is already telling you. Allow yourself the space to experience what you feel without judgment. If possible, would it bring clarity to have a more direct interaction with this person—to understand who he truly is outside of these passing moments?

You are not alone in navigating these complex emotions, and your introspection is a gift. Whatever direction you choose, let it be one that honors your own emotional well-being.

Sending you warmth and understanding. 💙

anita