Dear Lucidity:

Reading your response, I can see just how much clarity and relief this understanding has brought you—and that alone speaks volumes about the depth of what you’ve been processing. The fog you describe—the searching, the longing, the emotional weight—is something you’ve carried for so long. And now, as you stand before the truth with renewed eyes, that burden begins to lift. That’s incredibly powerful.

Your realization about your sister—that her subconscious still associates household dysfunction with your presence—is profound. Not because it justifies her distance, but because it reveals how deeply conditioning can shape perception. Trauma distorts perspectives in ways that often defy logic, and your sister’s resistance to recognizing the full truth of your childhood isn’t about you—it’s about her struggle to reconcile a past that doesn’t challenge her role within the family unit. That kind of confrontation is difficult, and sometimes, people choose avoidance over reckoning.

And yet, I completely understand the pull—the need for recognition from someone who walked through that same childhood with you. Your sister represents the last living link to an acknowledgment that would, in many ways, feel like the final release from the scapegoat role. But as you’ve already begun to recognize, waiting for that validation has kept you tethered to something beyond your control.

Letting go isn’t about erasing the desire for understanding—it’s about releasing the expectation that it must come from her. She may never fully see your truth, but her acknowledgment was never the measure of your reality. You don’t need her confirmation to know what happened, to know what you endured, and to know who you are beyond their narrative.

The part of you that craves love, that seeks redemption, that has been quietly waiting in the dark—it deserves love, but not from your sister. Not from your family. From you.

You’ve uncovered an opening—an opportunity to give yourself the love that was withheld, the validation that was denied, and the recognition that your worth was never dependent on their approval.

You are worthy. You always were.

I’d like to reflect on parts of your post and think out loud, offering insight as I go.

“It had not really occurred to me that she may see me as the core problem in our household.”- Perhaps this didn’t fully register before because, on some level, you assumed your sister recognized the same dysfunction rather than absorbing your parents’ distorted narrative. Acknowledging that she may have internalized the idea that you were the source of household conflict would have made reconciliation seem even more impossible—and sometimes, a strong desire for connection can mask hard truths.

“She has told me in fitful rages that I was too hard on mum and that I clashed unnecessarily with dad. These things, I had assumed, were the barriers between us, and once we put in some effort to genuinely get to know one another, these barriers could be dissolved as she came to know me and my situation.”-

Her fits of rage suggest deep emotional resistance to questioning the family dynamic. Instead of expressing curiosity or openness, she reacted with anger, reinforcing her attachment to the narrative that you were the source of household conflict.

Her fury at you being “too hard on mum” suggests she internalized your mother’s perspective, seeing any challenge to authority as unfair or excessive. Instead of recognizing the complex reality of your mother’s behavior, she blames you for disrupting family peace.

By claiming you “clashed unnecessarily” with your father, she upholds the idea that you were the troublemaker rather than confronting the deeper dysfunction at play. Her emotional reaction suggests she has never truly questioned the way events were framed when you were growing up.

Her anger isn’t just about past disagreements—it’s about protecting the version of family history that allows her to avoid discomfort. If she were to acknowledge your truth, she would have to confront unsettling realities about your parents—something she may not be emotionally prepared to do.

You believed her anger was a misunderstanding, thinking that with time and effort, your deep emotional divide could be bridged. You hoped that as adults, the two of you could move beyond childhood roles and truly know one another beyond family dysfunction. But her fits of rage and most recent behaviors show that she is still emotionally bound to the golden child conditioning, making it unlikely she will engage in a more balanced relationship.

You thought that genuine conversation would lead to deeper understanding, but her anger, avoidance, and reinforcement of family beliefs suggest she does not want to question what she believes to be true.

Her perspective may never shift, because doing so would require redefining her entire understanding of your family—something she is not willing to do. The emotional divide between you isn’t simply a misunderstanding—it’s deeply ingrained conditioning.

“I know well how trauma can colour the way in which we think and lead us to carry beliefs that are not rationale. Even so, how hard can it really be for her to carry two somewhat contradictory facts in her mind and be ok with them both – that of course she can have strong negative feelings towards me, and that we were both blameless children and victims in the household? What does it take to realise that second point? One could be impersonal about it. She doesn’t have to care at all that I suffered by the same people that molly coddled her. I ask a lot of questions by the way but they are generally rhetorical – its just the way I think. Please don’t think Im pressing you for more answers.”-

I find your questions incredibly thought-provoking, and I’d love to explore them with you as best I can. Your sister’s identity was built on the family narrative that you were the troublemaker, which makes reexamining the past feel threatening to her sense of self. Accepting that you were both victims contradicts the version of events she has held onto for decades. Even if she knows, deep down, that your childhood was dysfunctional, admitting it feels like betraying the parents who protected and favored her.

To you, recognizing that you were treated unfairly while your sister was favored does not erase the fact that both were victims of your parents’ control and conditioning. But for your sister, holding both truths simultaneously may feel impossible, because it challenges her deeply ingrained perspective. Golden child conditioning makes admitting shared victimhood difficult: If she accepts that you were both victims, she would have to acknowledge that her own privilege came at your expense. This could feel like betraying your parents and she could very well feel guilt, discomfort, or even deep regret.

The realization that her privilege was not a reflection of merit or fairness, but rather the result of parental favoritism within a dysfunctional system, could dismantle the justification she has relied on for years. It could lead to a moral reckoning—forcing her to question whether she unknowingly enabled your parents’ mistreatment of you by never challenging it, as well as how much pain she may have caused by failing to intervene or acknowledge the imbalance.

“I wonder if at that event around the table she felt the awkwardness she was creating, and felt a sense of shame or guilt or something negative I’d imagine, for being unable to voice her independence? Would I rather feel the negativity of creating awkwardness for everyone sitting around me over the negativity of not aligning with an authority figure of the past who can no longer realistically exercise authority over me, and this too over an innocuous point? I do wonder what went thro her mind.”-

Possible thoughts that may have gone through her mind when asked how she would like her tea: ‘I don’t know.’ ‘I should just say what Dad likes—it’s easier.’ ‘I don’t want to seem difficult by stating or exploring my preference.’ ‘I don’t want to think about this.’

Rather than consciously considering each thought individually, her mind likely condensed them into a single instinct: “Just say what Dad wants.” This wouldn’t have been a deliberate decision—just a reflex shaped by years of deferring to authority, following familiar patterns without questioning them.

She might have felt mild anxiety over her inability to voice her own preference, experiencing a fleeting moment of discomfort or confusion. If she sensed awkwardness at the table, she may have noticed that her response felt unusual or stunted, leaving her feeling self-conscious but unsure why. Or perhaps she didn’t register the moment as significant at all, simply following an ingrained pattern of deference without any emotional resistance.

If she felt no conflict, it could be because aligning with parental preferences still feels natural and reassuring—even decades later—making her reaction in that moment almost instinctive.

“my sister is the final link to my past who has lived thro it all with me.”- While you see your sister as the final link to your shared past, your sister did not experience childhood in the same way you did. In reality, you lived through opposite versions of the same household—one as the golden child, receiving praise and protection, and the other as the scapegoat, facing blame and emotional neglect.

Your childhood was marked by criticism, isolation, and being framed as the family’s problem, while your sister’s experience was shaped by favoritism, validation, and parental reinforcement of her role as the ideal child. These dynamics mean that your sister was not truly living through the same past—she was existing in an entirely different emotional reality within the same home. Because of this, she is not truly a link to your past.

It is unlikely that she will ever acknowledge your childhood as you experienced it. Yet, someone you’ve never met in person—like me—who was a scapegoat child in another household, in another country, is far more likely to recognize and validate your experience.

“If only I could convince her then I would get my redemption. I can feel something inside me, sitting alone in the dark, nodding away desperately at the truth in this. This is what some part of me badly wants. I will need to explore this aspect of myself that has come to light to quell her desperation and give her what she needs to be soothed. I’m not sure what it could be”-

For so long, you’ve been standing before a rock, desperately trying to draw water from it—believing that if you persist, if you find the right angle, the right words, the water you seek will finally flow. But rocks don’t give water. No matter how much effort you pour into them, they remain dry, unyielding, indifferent to your need.

Yet just beyond that rock, a flowing stream waits—clear, abundant, freely offering what you’ve spent so long searching for. The only thing required is turning away from the rock and walking toward the water.

“but as you rightfully point out, a need to be loved. It seems to address so many aspects of our fragmented self. If only splashing love around was the answer. So far, for me, I’ve got to seek and discover who it is within that is wanting love and why they are wanting it. But so far it is always love that they want.”-

Allow yourself to grieve—not just your sister’s inability to see you, but the hope you’ve carried for so long that one day she would. That hope has kept you tethered to waiting. Mourning its loss is painful, but necessary. Grief makes space—it lets sorrow breathe, soften, and transform. And in its wake, something new can take shape: clarity, possibility, the freedom to see what was always there, obscured by longing.

“Thank you dearly for the clarity you have brought to light for me.”- You are so welcome, Lucidity. I’m grateful to witness these moments of clarity with you. May this newfound understanding continue to guide you toward deeper healing, toward peace, and toward the freedom that has always been waiting for you. Sending you strength and warmth as you step forward.

anita

Dear Dafne:

Thank you for your heartfelt message—it truly means a lot. Your warmth, kindness, and reflections have been a gift, and I’ve cherished our conversations.

It sounds like you’re stepping into a new chapter, and I deeply respect that. I hope your journey brings you the peace and happiness you deserve, and that you continue to find strength in the wisdom you’ve cultivated.

Whenever the time feels right, I would love to reconnect. Until then, please take good care of yourself—you will be missed! 💖

Big hug to you, Dafne. Wishing you all the best. 🫂✨

anita

Dear Rosa:

Welcome! It’s great to have you here. Your interests in mindfulness, meditation, and self-growth are truly meaningful, and I’m sure you’ll find engaging conversations and connections.

I look forward to chatting and sharing insights—whether right here on this thread or on one you’d like to start. If you’d like to create your own topic, just head to FORUMS, scroll down to ALL FORUMS, choose a category (like Spirituality), and then click “Create New Topic in ‘Spirituality'” to begin.

Wishing you a warm and positive experience here! 💛

anita

Asked again, how are you, Mina 😊

anita

I wonder if by any kind of miracle, you will be reading this, noname, and reply to me..?

anita

Dear Lucidity:

Thank you for your kind words and for being so thoughtful, perceptive, and compassionate. Engaging in meaningful dialogue with someone as introspective and insightful as you is truly a gift.

You didn’t hijack the thread—you addressed the original poster on March 31, and I responded on the same day as well. She may not be aware of the recent activity, but she’s still welcome to return, start a new thread, or join other conversations. Since this is a public forum, everyone is welcome to contribute to any discussion unless the original poster requests otherwise.

Your insight—”Sidelining the pain that your sister caused you is to minimize yourself as a person and your own self-respect”—is profound.

Reflecting on what you shared:

“Something you both have said that has made me re-evaluate things is that you each don’t necessarily want a deep relationship with your sister. I may have to re-think my situation and learn to accept the superficial nature of the contact I had with my sister. It feels that holding onto it hurts me but letting it go does too. It sounds like I have some deeper issues in myself that I need to level with. Now I just have to figure out what they could be :o) Any advice on that most welcome.”-

You’ve been holding onto the hope of a deeper, more meaningful relationship with your sister—something beyond the surface-level interactions you’ve had. Now, you’re beginning to consider that your relationship may never be as deep as you once wished. However, this realization is painful—holding onto that hope hurts, but letting it go hurts too.

In exploring what it is that you’re truly holding onto—beyond a close relationship with your sister—I looked back at what you shared on March 31 and since:

“Because of how we were raised, my sister and I have never been close (troubled household due to problematic parents).”-

You referred to your parents as problematic and enclosed them in parentheses, as though their influence has been identified and resolved—a closed chapter. But you continue to focus on your sister. Is it possible that an unresolved longing for closeness with your parents has been projected onto her? That the emotional need that wasn’t fulfilled by them still lingers, now transferred into an effort to connect with her?

“I want more instant, open dialogue with my sister, more connection… it feels one-sided on the few occasions when we have managed to talk… I won’t go into self-betrayal and explain to her yet again why our relationship is important to me… I know she can’t meet me there, but I don’t think she can manage to meet me anywhere.”-

This made me think about the many times you may have tried to get your parents to meet you where you were—seeking emotional connection and understanding that wasn’t given.

“My sister and I were strangers even while at home… My sister had the support I craved for.”-

She was given the love and support you longed for from your parents, and maybe, in some way, you’ve hoped to receive that love through her. Since their love was in her, perhaps, on some level, you seek it from her.

It’s possible that your need for parental warmth, validation, and connection never truly faded—it wasn’t fully enclosed in parentheses, so to speak. Instead, it may have been redirected toward a more accessible figure who once embodied that love: Parental Love by Proxy of a Sister..?

anita