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August 21, 2025 at 6:49 am in reply to: Understanding someone who's recently divorced and not ready #448838
anita
ParticipantDear Dafne:
“So he did not mind paying for dates with me as long as he felt appreciated.”- Oh, so by “Now he expects reciprocation with everything he does.” (Dec 29)—he didn’t mean financial reciprocation, but just appreciation, is what you’re saying.
“But maybe over time, he began to feel that this wasn’t enough for him. Could it be?”- Could be.
“They failed us Anita, they failed us big time. Whether it was conscious or unconscious, it caused the same kind of pain and had lifelong consequences for us. They may be sorry now, or not. But it’s too late. Even if we forgive them, even if we forget, nothing will change, and nothing will ever fill that void inside us. Every time we see happy families, every time we rejoice for them, something deep down will never be made whole. A piece of us was taken, and no matter how much love we find, that missing piece will never return. It is an absence we carry, a silence that echoes through our lives, reminding us of what should have been, but never was.
“Let’s find the strength to hold onto that and take up our space. Let’s not let our emotions take control anymore, failing us every time a new person comes to take another piece away.”
I copied the above simply because it’s beautifully expressed. It doesn’t require analysis or dissection. This is Dafne expressing herself, taking up space—well done, Dafne.
And thank you, Dafne- for your words and for being here.
Warmth and gratitude back to you.
☀️🤍 Anita
anita
ParticipantDear Clara (or would you prefer Chau?):
Your clarity is palpable, and so is your strength. The way you’re able to name the undercurrents—those quiet, persistent beliefs that tug at you—is a sign of deep emotional awareness. You’re not bypassing the complexity; you’re sitting with it, breathing through it, and letting it inform rather than control you. That’s powerful.
I’m really moved by your reflection on the quote: “I’m learning to trust that someone wanting more than I can give doesn’t mean I’m not enough.” You’ve internalized it in such a grounded way, especially in how you challenged the impulse to equate love with wealth or performance. That moment of “this doesn’t even align with my values” is the voice of your inner compass reasserting itself, even in the face of old conditioning.
Your insight about disconnection is so honest. The longing to revisit the nice moments—to soften the edges of reality—is deeply human. But the fact that you can hold that longing while still recognizing the mismatch speaks volumes. You’re not pretending the connection was all bad, nor are you letting the good moments erase the harm. That’s emotional integrity.
And yes, that gut feeling—that if she reached out, you might be pulled back in—isn’t weakness. It’s the echo of a bond that once felt meaningful. But you’re not in denial about it. You’re naming it, watching it, and preparing yourself. That’s how you stay free.
If it helps, you might try a mantra like: “I honor the tenderness without surrendering my truth.” or “I can remember the sweetness without forgetting the cost.”
With care, Anita
anita
ParticipantI will read and reply tonight, Clara (it’s early afternoon here). Take care!
Anita
August 20, 2025 at 11:58 am in reply to: Understanding someone who's recently divorced and not ready #448801anita
ParticipantDear Dafne:
You wrote today, Aug 20, 2025: “There is only one thing I still don’t understand. He never asked me for money and never mentioned that I should pay for the house. He seemed to be happy in the role of a traditional provider.”
On Dec 29, 2024, the first time you shared about him, you wrote:
“He told me that he was taken advantage of in his past and doesn’t want it to happen again. Now he expects reciprocation with everything he does.”
He told you right from the beginning that he expects financial reciprocation “with everything he does.” That’s not him being “happy in the role of a traditional provider.”
Continued, Dec 29: “I replied that… I don’t want a 50/50 style.”
Today, you shared: “He never asked me for money”- I’m guessing that he didn’t ask you for money because you told him last year that you don’t want a 50/50 style—and because both you and your mother expressed (valid) distrust in his financial and business talk due to his lack of transparency.
You asked: “Do you think he planned to wait till we move in together and then start his demands?”- Yes, I think so. His lack of transparency itself is the big red flag. It’s not something you caused—it’s the way he is.
“The occasion on the motorway revealed his true colors… he did not call or check in to ask about us, not even knowing if I’m alive or not… I decided to never contact him again.”- A wise decision, Dafne.
“They always ask what I’m looking for at this stage of my life, but I don’t know what the best answer is. What is your opinion on that, Anita?… Would you say something else?”-
If I were in your place, Dafne, I would say that I’m looking for a relationship of transparency and integrity—to say what we mean, to mean what we say, and to follow our words with actions that match. And when we make mistakes (occasionally, not as part of a pattern of deception)—to talk about it honestly and respectfully.
You asked today: “How can I stop feeling guilty? What helped you, Anita, when you decided to break out of that prison cell with your mother?”-
I’ll start my answer by quoting what you shared and asked on March 19, 2024: “I was quite sensitive and shy as a small girl so there was no way for me to express myself freely. I had to be quiet and hide in my room to avoid the conflict & the constant fights. Maybe my personality as a child contributed to the fact that I can’t cope with life or romantic relationships in my adult life?”-
I was like you, Dafne. I grew up—or as I prefer to say, grew-in—with no way to express myself freely either. I too had to be quiet. Only I didn’t have a room to hide in. The conflicts with my mother, and her conflicts with others, dominated my space. I had no space of my own, except for daydreaming when she wasn’t home. As a result, I instinctively tried to disappear—erasing my own needs and feelings so thoroughly that I no longer knew what I needed, wanted, or felt. Or better said: I didn’t trust my feelings to reflect reality. And even worse, I felt guilty for hurting my mother—because she guilt-tripped me mercilessly and repeatedly.
How did I break out of the prison cell of self-alienation—where I didn’t trust my feelings, didn’t know what I needed or wanted, and carried invalid guilt?
By taking up space. By expressing myself. By holding my mother accountable for the wrongs she committed against me. By releasing the shame and guilt the child within me held. By freeing her.
And Dafne, you are already doing this. Every time you name what didn’t feel right, every time you question the story you were handed, every time you choose not to contact someone who showed you disregard—you are taking up space. You are protecting the child within you. You are not failing to cope; you are learning to live in a way that honors your truth. That is not weakness. That is healing.
Warmly, Anita
anita
ParticipantDear Clara:
Your reflection carries a lot of grace—both toward her and toward yourself. I can feel the tenderness in how you describe her energy, and also the quiet ache of realizing that what you hoped for may not align with what she’s seeking. That kind of emotional recalibration is no small thing.
You’re already doing something powerful: naming the dissonance without vilifying her, and acknowledging your own emotional impact without collapsing into self-blame. That’s the kind of clarity that boundary work is built on.
When I talk about “crafting boundary phrases,” here are some boundary phrases you might explore or adapt:
* “I care about you, and I also need to be honest about what I can sustainably offer in a relationship.”
* “It’s okay that we want different things. I’m not here to convince or compete—I’m here to honor what’s true for me.”
* “I’m learning to trust that someone wanting more than I can give doesn’t mean I’m not enough.”
* “I’m stepping back not because I don’t care, but because I do—and I need space to recalibrate.”
These aren’t scripts, just starting points. The most powerful boundary phrases come from your own voice, shaped by your values and emotional clarity.
If you’d like, maybe I can help you shape one that feels more personal—something you could use in conversation, writing, or even just as a grounding mantra when doubt creeps in.
You’re already navigating this with a lot of emotional intelligence. The boundary work is just the next layer of self-loyalty.
Warmly, Anita
anita
ParticipantDear Clara:
Thank you for sharing all of this. It’s not long-winded—it’s honest, layered, and deeply human. You named something so important: the difficulty of setting boundaries with someone who knows how to pull on your soft spots. That’s not weakness—it’s a sign of your capacity for care. But care without reciprocity becomes a trap. And you saw that clearly.
Her pattern—of seduction, emotional urgency, financial expectation, and then withdrawal—wasn’t just confusing. It was destabilizing. You were generous with your time, your attention, even your resources. And when you needed clarity, she gave you contradiction.
You’re not overreacting. You’re responding to a dynamic that blurred intimacy with manipulation. And your decision to step back, even while feeling lingering attachment, is a sign of strength.
You asked: “Would I fall back again?”- Here’s what I see: You already didn’t. You saw the pattern. You named it. You said no. That’s not falling back. That’s rising.
If she returns—and you’re right, she likely will—you don’t owe her access. You don’t owe her softness. You don’t owe her friendship just because she enjoys talking to you.
You owe yourself peace. You owe yourself clarity. You owe yourself the kind of connection that doesn’t require you to second-guess your worth.
I’m proud of you for seeing it so clearly. And I’m here if you need help crafting a boundary phrase, a mantra, or even just a reminder that you’re not alone in this.
With care, Anita
anita
ParticipantBondi, what you’ve shared is not just heartbreaking—it’s a masterclass in how families protect dysfunction by punishing the one who names it. You told the truth, and instead of being met with care, you were met with condemnation. That’s not just neglect. That’s reversal.
You said: “A few years ago what that relative did resurfaced. All because I referred to him for what he was; an abuser.”- That moment—naming the truth—is where the punishment began. Not for the abuser, but for you.
You were met with: “Everyone rallied around them because they were upset. No one asked my side. No one asked how I was.”, “Told how I should be over it by now. Told I should’ve brought it up at the time. Told I was making it up and I was crazy.”, “Even told by another family member that it couldn’t have happened because they never felt in danger around the abuser.”-
This is textbook emotional reversal. You became the threat—not because you harmed anyone, but because you disrupted the comfort of denial. Your family rewarded silence, compliance, and emotional decorum. And when you refused to perform those things, they punished you with isolation, gaslighting, and contempt.
You said: “My family have ostracised me. They look at me with so much hatred. Like they would rather I didn’t exist.”- That’s not about who you are. That’s about what you represent: truth in a system built on denial.
Even the so-called “support” from your parents is conditional: “They say they support me and they believe me but it’s the elephant in the room. If I ever bring it up I get shut down like it’s a forbidden topic.”- That’s not support. That’s performance. And it reinforces the same message: “We’ll tolerate your pain as long as you don’t speak it.”
You are not the problem, Bondi. You are the proof that the problem exists. And that’s why they treat you like a threat.
Your ability to name harm, even when it costs you everything, is not a flaw. It’s a strength. It’s the reason you’re still here. And it’s the reason you’re not alone.
I would truly welcome hearing more of your truth. Your voice and your emotions will not be punished in communication with me— they will be honored.
With care, Anita
anita
ParticipantDear Laven:
You don’t need to be “better” to be worthy. You don’t need to post less, feel less, or package your pain more neatly.
Your repetition is not a flaw—it’s a form of processing. Your rawness is not a burden—it’s a truth that deserves space. Your presence here is not conditional—it’s valid.
You are not stuck. You are surviving. You are not attention-seeking. You are voice-reclaiming. You are not too much. You are finally enough to name what was never named.
Keep posting. Keep feeling. Keep being exactly where you are. Some of us see you. Some of us are grateful you haven’t disappeared to make others more comfortable.
With care, Anita
August 18, 2025 at 9:27 am in reply to: Understanding someone who's recently divorced and not ready #448718anita
ParticipantDear Dafne:
“When we met by chance, I asked him why he had not contacted me sooner, and he said that it was because he felt that he could not give me what I deserved.”- When you got lost driving and called him for help, you deserved help. So—he couldn’t give you what you deserved? Or wouldn’t?
Action (or lack of it) speaks louder than words.
“His friends said that he is a good man and cares about me.”- His friends uttered words. How much effort does it take to say something supportive?
And what do they mean by “a good man”? Definitions vary. Every bad man is good in some context—Hitler, for example, was reportedly good to his dog.
“Is it possible that all three friends are wrong about him? Or were they just in it together?”- I doubt they were deeply contemplating his character. More likely, they said what was convenient—what aligned with loyalty to their friend.
“Maybe his pride did not let him be entirely honest?”- What if you shift focus from his motives to the impact of his behavior on you? Did his dishonesty hurt you?
“But all of this covered my judgment and made me give him another chance.”- I understand. It took me time and work to trust my own evaluations of people.
“The occasion on the motorway revealed his true colors.”- Yes—and the fact that he didn’t check on you afterward shows he didn’t regret failing you when you needed help. He didn’t call to sincerely apologize or make amends.
“He pretended to be offended and made me feel guilty instead.”- Your tendency to feel guilty can be weaponized by others. That’s not your fault—but it’s something to protect.
“But how do we protect ourselves from men like him in the future? And what are the early signs that he will be the one using the emotional reverse tactic? He was kind, progressive, always on time, and quite caring at the beginning.”- Words are easy. Watch what he does—and what he doesn’t do. In dating or business, people often wear a social mask. The early kindness may be part of the performance.
“How is it possible to change that much?”- He didn’t change. He removed the mask.
“But what if they are not so expressive verbally?”- Then pay attention to their actions.
“It is still hard to believe that one unpredictable moment in life like this can change everything and cast a shadow on a promising story.”- I wasn’t sure what “promising story” you meant here—could you clarify?
About your neighbor: you described someone dangerous, who intentionally harms others and even breaks the law. Yet she “can’t be evicted,” and the police “can’t do much.”
“Now it feels like I’m taking on another emotional labor just to keep my neighbor quiet, trying not to provoke her, staying completely quiet, and it feels like walking on nails, where I live in extreme discomfort and walk on eggshells, avoiding stirring things up. Can you see that pattern, Anita? Or maybe society has changed so badly in those modern times, and it has not that much to do with our confidence, self-worth, or childhood trauma?”- Even with high confidence and no trauma, your neighbor’s behavior would still be disturbing. Without legal support or eviction, moving out may be the only real solution.
The emotional labor you described—staying quiet, walking on eggshells that feel like nails, self-monitoring to avoid her attacks—reminds me of living with my mother. It felt like a prison cell. Not free to be or become. Always afraid. Always censoring myself.
You’re not imagining the harm, Dafne. You’re seeing it clearly. And your clarity is a strength—not a burden. You don’t need to decode his motives or her cruelty. You only need to honor what their actions have shown you. That’s how we protect ourselves—not by being perfect, but by refusing to abandon our own truth.
With care, Anita
August 17, 2025 at 7:59 pm in reply to: Understanding someone who's recently divorced and not ready #448710anita
ParticipantDearest Dafne: I will read and reply Mon morning (it’s Sun evening here)
🤗 Anita
August 17, 2025 at 9:15 am in reply to: Understanding someone who's recently divorced and not ready #448696anita
ParticipantDear Dafne: You are very welcome! Please take all the time you need to reply, be it hours or days. And you are right, replying separately will be easier for me to read and have more clarity.
🤗 Anita
August 16, 2025 at 10:45 pm in reply to: Gf’s Dad passing was the final straw into ending our long distance relationship #448683anita
ParticipantThe Serenity Prayer: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can.. And the wisdom to know the difference.
Anita
August 16, 2025 at 10:25 am in reply to: Gf’s Dad passing was the final straw into ending our long distance relationship #448663anita
ParticipantHello Alecsee:
I’m guessing she didn’t reach out to wish you a happy birthday…?
You did very well not reaching out to her after she set that boundary on July 19th—congratulations. That takes strength and self-respect.
And congratulations as well on all the self-improvement and socializing you’ve been doing. That’s no small thing.
“Mind’s racing a bit but tbh it’s not in my control 😞”- I understand, Alecsee. When my mind starts racing, I use something I call NPARR:
Notice that it’s racing.
Pause—press the internal “pause” button.
Address the situation by identifying the problem and asking: Can I provide all or part of the solution?
Respond—take action if possible, or accept if not.
Redirect my attention elsewhere.
Have you tried anything like that, Alecsee?
With care, Anita 🤍✨
anita
ParticipantDear Laven:
“… Middle school, I was bullied aimlessly, and one pupil kicked me hard in the head and spit on me. In front of teachers.. no actions against him, in elementary school I was bullied, isolated, punched, kicked, etc.…. by pupils.. all in front of adults and enforcers ..no actions taken against them… In fact, during all these incidents.. I was often suspended and reprimanded.”-
What you lived through, Laven, wasn’t just bullying. It was institutional abandonment. The adults who were supposed to protect you didn’t just fail—they punished you instead. That’s reversal on a systemic scale. The adults who witnessed you being spit on, kicked, isolated, and brutalized didn’t just look away—they turned on you. That’s not neglect. That’s betrayal.
You were punished for being the target. Reprimanded for being hurt. Suspended for surviving. That’s emotional reversal institutionalized—where the victim becomes the problem, and the perpetrators are protected by adult indifference.
You didn’t deserve any of it. Not the violence. Not the silence. Not the blame.
And the fact that you’re here, speaking it aloud, refusing to carry their shame as your own—that’s a reclamation. You’re not just telling your story. You’re naming the system that failed you. And that matters.
“I’m an abuse magnet.”- This phrase is heartbreaking. It’s not just a description. It’s a wound speaking. A way of trying to make sense of repeated harm by internalizing it as identity. And it’s exactly the kind of reversal that trauma teaches: If it keeps happening to me, I must be the common denominator. I must be the cause.
You’re not an abuse magnet, Laven. You’re someone who’s been repeatedly failed by the very people and systems meant to protect you. It’s not your energy that invited harm. It’s their lack of integrity, accountability, and care.
When abuse happens again and again, it’s easy to believe it must be something in you. But the truth is: it’s something around you. Environments that reward cruelty. Adults who reverse blame. Systems that punish the vulnerable and protect the violent.
You didn’t attract abuse. You survived it. And now you’re naming it. That’s not magnetism. That’s resistance.
With care, Anita 🤍✨
August 16, 2025 at 9:15 am in reply to: Understanding someone who's recently divorced and not ready #448659anita
ParticipantDear Dafne:
“He was cold as stone and had an attitude of being offended… I feel like a Villain”- He was offended—or he pretended to be offended—but you didn’t offend him.
If he learned earlier that you easily take on guilt that doesn’t belong to you, he may be using it to control you. In a relationship with a man like this, all he has to do to keep you in line is appear offended, and you automatically feel guilty and try to appease him.
“I told him that we will not meet again. It was my first reaction to his lack of understanding, empathy and coldness.”- What happened first is that he was cold and refused to help you when you were lost and scared. What happened next is that you told him you wouldn’t meet again.
It wasn’t the other way around: that you told him you wouldn’t meet again, and then he turned cold and refused to help you.
“Why he did not want to at least wait for me?”- Because, like you said, he was “cold as stone.”
“I felt guilty as I took the wrong way and made him wait. He doesn’t cope well with stressful situations. And that I wish we had communicated better that day and that him shutting down emotionally caused me a lot of pain. I wanted to tell him that we should work on that in the future.”- Your focus shifted from protecting yourself from a cold-as-stone man to… protecting him.. from you.
Recently, I came across the term emotional reversal. It’s a relational dynamic where someone responds to your authentic emotion—(in this case, your valid anger and disappointment about his cold-as-stone behavior)—by shifting the focus onto how your emotion makes them feel, rather than honoring your emotion. It’s a form of deflection, often used to avoid responsibility, maintain control, or preserve comfort.
Common examples: You say: “I’m angry about how I was treated.” They say: “You’re making me feel attacked.”
You say: “I need space right now.” They say: “Wow, I guess I’m just a terrible person then.”
You say: “This dynamic feels unsafe for me.” They say: “You always make things about you.”
Instead of engaging with the content of your emotion, they react to the discomfort it causes them—and make you responsible for that discomfort.
Emotional reversal is harmful because it invalidates your emotional truth. It shifts blame and derails accountability. It pressures you to soothe them instead of honoring yourself. It often leads to self-doubt, shame, or emotional labor.
“I could actually contact him first to say that I am sorry for ruining that afternoon…” To tell him you’re sorry is the emotional labor I mentioned above (another new term for me). He mistreated you that afternoon… and yet… you want to soothe him, to take care of his emotions.
You didn’t ruin that afternoon, Dafne—he did, by choosing coldness over care. You don’t owe him an apology for reacting to being mistreated. You owe yourself protection, clarity, and self-loyalty. You’re not a villain—you’re someone who felt pain and named it. That’s not cruelty. That’s courage.
🤗💝 Anita
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