Excerpt from Anita’s post:

I was thinking: if I share this here, will some people rejoice in my pain?

Will some people go: Yea! The **** got hurt!?

This is what crossed my mind, following recent interactions here, in the forums.

The above is called projection. Projecting one’s own hateful thoughts and feelings on others, believing that others harbor the said thoughts and feelings. Well, they don’t. But the person is convinced they are. And so they launch an attack, a smear campaign, throwing dirt on their targets.

Should that be allowed in a public space? That one member throws dirt on other members, based on their distorted thinking? I don’t think so.

Lori has been informed.

Dear Alessa,

I’m loving our conversation too <3

Thank you for clarifying. I do still think you did a good job figuring this out in your 20s. ❤️

Yeah, I guess I always strived for a balanced view and justice – I didn’t like when my mother blamed certain people who weren’t really bad people. I realized things are not black-and-white and that she too is contributing to those problems. Somehow justice and truth were always important to me.

It is admittedly difficult and takes time to heal from these experiences with parents. I’m so happy you got there. You’re an inspiration!

Oh thank you, that’s so sweet of you to say <3 It was a long-winded road, but yeah, I see things much more clearly now than in the past.

I do pray too, I find it comforting. It is just the organisation side of things that I have difficulty with.

Yes, me too. I’m probably what they call “spiritual, but not religious.” Because I’m not following some of the rules which a true believer would consider obligatory, like going to Mass regularly, taking communion, etc. I believe that each of us is able to “communicate” with God in our hearts, and I don’t like the notion that it’s only possible through the mediation of the Church. I’m not against hearing a sermon, taking communion or some of the rituals, but I don’t believe it is a prerequisite to being “saved” or anything like that.

At the same time, the actual experience of going to church is nice. I just don’t know how comfortable I am about involving my son in these things because my views of God are a bit more forgiving of people that some traditional beliefs. I cannot say that I believe something that I don’t.

There was a period when I too was going to church more frequently. I found it comforting. But now, it’s not too frequent, it’s very rare, to be honest.

As for involving your son, well, I guess just be spontaneous about it. If you don’t feel like going to church every Sunday, don’t go. I guess just be yourself, don’t try to impose neither on yourself nor your son some artificial rules, which you don’t feel like following.

When he’s old enough, you’ll see if you want to take him to church, and I guess he’ll tell you if he likes it or not. So my advice is not to put any pressure on yourself and just let things evolve spontaneously.

I do have fears, like anyone else but I don’t let them stop me from expressing myself.

Yes, I’ve noticed you’re not actually afraid of expressing yourself and your opinion, and that’s fantastic!

I think, what I’m afraid of is hurting other people. I would never want to make someone feel the way that I did growing up. An unrealistic fear perhaps because I’m not that kind of a person.

Yes, you’re super caring and kind, and very considerate in how you address people, so I think you might worry too much. Of course, there are always people who won’t like something you’ve said, no matter how kind and considerate you phrase it, or how well intentioned you are.

There are people who can’t stand when someone disagrees with them, because they see it as an attack on their person. Unfortunately, there’s no way to please those people – because the only way to please them is to tell them what they want to hear. If we don’t want that, we need to deal with the consequences of not being liked, or rather, of being strongly disliked by them.

So yeah, we cannot please everyone. But if the price of pleasing someone is to silence yourself, to betray yourself, I’d rather pass on that. I want to stay true to myself.

But I’m also quite sensitive to conflict myself because of the trauma I’ve been through, so I try my best to be mindful that people might have disproportionate reactions because of their own experiences.

That’s very mature of you to consider that people sometimes overreact, and that it’s not necessarily because something you said or did, but something that gets stirred in them. An old wound.

A friend of mine once said that when she interacts with people, she keeps in mind that they all have their problems, so when someone is rude to her, she doesn’t take it too personally. I guess that’s a smart way to go about it, because she doesn’t get too upset if someone treats her subpar.

I don’t know what the solution will be, perhaps at some point I’ll learn the line where I actually have a level of control over the way I affect others? Who knows!

Hmmm… the thing is that we can only control what we say and how we say it, but not how it is received by others. If someone perceives your honest, well-intended remark as an attack, well, you can’t really do much about it.

So I guess you can try your best to be kind, express your concerns (if any) in a kind way, clarify any misunderstandings, but ultimately, you cannot control how the other person will receive it. It will depend on their character, their wounds, their willingness to self-reflect and receive feedback.

It’s been real pleasure to talk to you too! <3

Hi John,

I too have taken a look at some of your older threads, and like Anita said, this seems to be a very similar issue to the one you’ve talked about before, which is fear of being judged and criticized by others, as well as fear of conflict. You were also pretty aware of what might lie behind those fears (this is what you wrote in 2013):

I recognize that the way I behave is largely influenced by experiences from my past – parents, teachers, bosses, lovers, all of whom brought into my life their neurosis, stresses, and anxieties. I can see how their unhealthy minds shaped the way I see the world and respond to it. Namely, walking on eggshells – avoiding their wrath and seeking approval.

Chances are that you were the most influenced by your parents, because they are the first who shape our reality and our self-concept, i.e. the way we see ourselves and how we feel about ourselves.

Would you say that you were exposed to your parents’ neurosis, stresses and anxieties? And that you even tried to soothe them, but never managed:

I try to be compassionate and empathetic to their point of view, but that approach seems to be met with even more disdain as if, in their eyes, I’m not appreciating the gravity and seriousness of the situation. My openness, lightheartedness, and willingness to talk it through in a calm and collected manner seems to bring about even more stress, anxiety, and frustration to the point where I start to doubt myself and begin to get sucked into their neurosis.

Have you perhaps tried to soothe your parents’ anxiety, but they’ve dismissed you, and even accused you of not taking their problems seriously, and it only aggravated them? To the point that you felt helpless and anxious yourself (“sucked into their neurosis”), because there was nothing you could do?

You were also aware of your inner critic:

I recognize that judge or inner critic is not my own voice but that of my parents and other overly critical people that I’ve been exposed to over the years. But these voices are really not helpful and need to put in their place fast because I realize that they’re holding me back from living the kind of spontaneous and joyful life I want to live.

And you’ve mentioned the advice your meditation teachers gave you:

I really need to work on stopping these automatic reflexes of thought, which are usually so negative. My meditation instructors talk about approaching the mind like an unruly child – correct it’s actions, but be gentle, kind, and compassionate. But sometimes, I just want to slap it over my knee and giving it a good spanking.

For me, the best way to stop the absolute rule (and terror) of my inner critic was to get in touch with my inner child and show her gentleness, kindness and compassion, like a good, loving parent would. “Installing” the compassionate parental voice (which is the voice of your true self) as the antidote to the relentless judgments of the inner critic.

You as a child needed a lot of softness, compassion, empathy and understanding, like every child needs. But unfortunately it seems you’ve received a lot of anxiety, criticism and judgment instead. And because of that, your inner child still believes he is not good enough.

I hope you can get to the bottom of this. If this resonates, I’d be happy to talk some more.

Anita,

Anita: So in her mind, compassion is always needed, no nuance, as in black and white/ all or nothing thinking?

Copilot: That seems like a fair interpretation, yes—her view of compassion may lean toward binary thinking: compassion as inherently virtuous, always appropriate, always healing. That framing tends to lack nuance, especially in contexts of relational harm. It turns compassion into an unquestioned ideal, rather than a strategic, relational tool that must be calibrated based on history, boundaries, and context.

When someone operates from that all-or-nothing lens, they can unintentionally invalidate more complex emotional truths—like yours. They may see emotional distance or protective anger as signs of hardness or bitterness, rather than the necessary scaffolding for recovery.

I wonder if you’ve fed Copilot with my explanation of what I meant by compassion? Because it doesn’t seem binary to me, but rather nuanced. I’ll repost it here for your convenience:

In the case of people who don’t want to admit that they are wounded and that they need healing, compassion is different than with someone who wants to be helped and is open to face their own issues.

Compassion for someone who is open might involve emotional connection, support, help, guidance, talking about difficulties, openly sharing about your own struggles and how you’ve overcome them, being vulnerable with the person. All that. Emotional intimacy.

But with someone who is closed for any kind of help – because they deny they have a problem – compassion doesn’t involve emotional intimacy and sharing. I think it involves accepting that that’s who they are, not hating them, but setting boundaries so that they wouldn’t be able to abuse us any longer. Also, emotionally detaching from the person. Because sharing isn’t possible, vulnerability isn’t possible with such a person.

Come to think about it, maybe two kinds of compassion exist: one in which we can emotionally connect and share, because the person is in touch with their true self and their own vulnerability. And another, in which we cannot connect and share, because the person isn’t in touch with their true self and their vulnerability. In the latter case, we accept (radical acceptance), observe, we can be kind if our kindness isn’t met with attacks and abuse, and we hold our boundaries.

Bottom line: we are love, but with some people, that love cannot be shared.

So would you please ask Copilot for feedback? I’m curious if it would reach a different conclusion, with this extended input.

But otherwise, I can imagine it feels validating to receive such am unequivocal answer – even if it comes from a chatbot – that it is you who is completely right, while the other person has a limited perspective. The other person is stuck in binary thinking and skewed understanding, while you are endowed with nuanced and sophisticated reasoning, anchored in complex emotional truths.

It must be liberating to read that you didn’t do anything wrong, and that what you feared might be rude or unkind is simply you stating your truth, in an achingly honest and poetic way. Indeed, your chatbot reassured you that telling me that I was unsupportive was essential for you to regain your sense of grounding after having felt emotionally disoriented by my elusive and mismatched responses.

Even though Copilot hasn’t deemed my input as malicious, a couple of posts later you already labeled me as invalidating, judgmental and “continuing the work of your mother”. You swiftly added me to the pile of others who “arrogantly, self-righteously, ignorantly criticize, point to what’s lacking in the other person.”

So I’ve quickly become the villain! And I’m not only trying to destabilize you, but also the entire community:

Community- isn’t it about we coming together, for the betterment of “we”?

The implication is that whoever doesn’t agree with you (or in this case says something you don’t like) is endangering the entire community. Well, that’s quite something!

BELIEVE Me, be on MY SIDE.
Keep current invalidating people out of my personal space: people who continue my mother’s work of invalidation and judgment.. however politely.

So you’re accusing me – without mentioning my name, but it’s clear who you’re talking about – of not believing you, of not being on your side, and of continuing your mother’s work of invalidation and judgment.

You know what those are, Anita? False accusations. And you know what false accusations are? They are a form of abuse.

So I am speaking out. I don’t want to remain silent, so not to rock the boat. These things are too big and important to be overlooked. And it’s time that they be addressed.

Dear Anita,

This is wonderful, Tee!

Thank you, Anita.

Tee: Neither here nor there, not with me, not against me. Maybe here, maybe there. Nothing I can hold on to.

I was hoping that my post about compassion would be helpful, because that approach helped me. But it was obviously a wrong timing and inappropriate for your process. And I apologized for it.

It doesn’t feel good to be classified as “for or against.” To be put into some artificial trenches. I am definitely in support of your healing and of healing of anyone on this forum. I’m sorry if you feel differently. I wish you all the best and respectfully withdraw from your thread.

Dear Anita,

I am sorry that I misunderstood you and rushed with an ill-fitting advice.

What I need is compassion for myself.

Yes, you do. And I understand that. I believed that you did find it, judging from your previous posts. You talked about feeling good about yourself, finally. About being a good, lovable little girl, Anita, not a bad girl, which your mother was portraying you as. That’s why I thought that you’ve managed to find love and compassion for yourself. But I must have misread it, and I apologize for that. Only you know where you are in your process.

Actually, I’ve never been as free of outrage as I was yesterday, when I saw her clearly as my Eraser.

I’m happy about that. Really I am. Perhaps seeing your mother clearly – as someone who tried to erase your Being – helped you to fully feel the anger at her, because the confusion you might have had about her intentions is now gone.

I totally see how that can be liberating, and how rushing with compassion is counter-productive. Because we first need to protect ourselves – in our mind and heart – from our abuser. We first need to build those boundaries. And we can do that only when we’re certain about the nature of our abuser. When we’re not confused whether they love us or not, whether they wish us well or not.

You’ve concluded just recently, in these last days, that your mother didn’t love you. You’re finally certain of that. And so you can finally protect yourself appropriately – without falling into the trap of pitying and feeling sorry for your mother. You might have fallen into that trap before, but not any longer. If this is what is happening and where you’re at, I am happy for you. And I’m sorry for misreading that moment.

I won’t post any more if you don’t want me to. I’ll respect your wishes. I wish you all the best on your continued path to healing!

Dear Claire,

unfortunately this does seem like a toxic relationship. And as your counselor said, he very much sounds like a narcissist: in the beginning he behaved perfectly, till the first outburst, when he started showing his true colors. I’ve read that narcissists usually have their first outburst about 6-12 months into the relationship. Unfortunately, your husband wasn’t an exception either.

His behavior is a textbook example of narcissistic abuse: he attacks you, then sulks/gives you a silent treatment, and then a few hours later, or the next day, he behaves as if nothing happened. No apology, no anything. Till the next occasion. When you confront him about his behavior, he puts the blame on you (“insinuating that I drive him to this”, “his reluctance to accept any accountability whatsoever”).

When he doesn’t like something, he isn’t able to discuss it calmly and hear your opinion as well, but gets his way by scowling and yelling (if there was something he didn’t like he would take charge by yelling and scowling, there was never a calm discussion and my opinion was never heard.).

I’d had enough. He had knocked the wind out of my sails for the last time. I’ve fixed myself up with a friend to stay with and I can take my dog.

Congratulations! You did the right thing! You don’t have to endure his abuse anymore.

My problem is though, even though I know in my heart I should leave him, people stay in marriages that are much worse, am I making a mistake to leave him and my home, everything I’ve worked for to have to start all over again (I turned 50 this year).

That’s true, some people even stay in physically abusive marriages. Some do it because they don’t have any other solution, and some do it because they believe they’ve deserved it, or they’re telling themselves that things are not so bad and perhaps might even get better. It seems that your husband alternates between the episodes of being mean and abusive and then being sweet and on his best behavior: “when it was good it was really good.”

If so, this is called intermittent reinforcement, where the narcissist’s good phases give you hope that he might become this good person that he seemingly has the capacity to be. But the problem is that his abusive self always comes back. And since he doesn’t even want to admit that he has a problem, but blames his bad behavior on you – there is no way that he can miraculously become free from his bad nature and his abusive outbursts.

It seems that in recent times, his outbursts have become more frequent, and as Alessa said, the bad is now outweighing the good:

As time had gone on his outbursts have been noticed by ever single one of our friends so much so that my best friend can’t stand being near him. He had become more controlling and more distant. I can honestly say we never have a nice time whatever we do. The outbursts are more frequent these days and every time they turning into abusive remarks insinuating that I drive him to this.

So that’s your reality. He is getting worse, and he is refusing to admit that he has a problem:

I desperately want it to work but his reluctance to accept any accountability whatsoever makes me feel that he is unable to change unless he accepts that his outbursts are irrational and harmful.

If you’re still hoping that he’d change, it would be called wishful thinking, because the reality is unfortunately not pointing in that direction.

You say you’re reluctant to leave because of everything you’ve built together: “my beautiful house, my garden, our lovely neighbours”

But the thing is that if most of the time spent in that house, in that garden, is burdened with conflict and his uncontrollable outbursts (“I can honestly say we never have a nice time whatever we do”), and if you feel beaten to the ground after each of his episodes (“it causes me to experience deep frustration and sadness. It has literally ground me down, every time it happens it saps the life out of me, it exhausts me”) – then what’s the point?

You cannot enjoy the things you’ve built together if your mental health is suffering. He’s not giving you the room to enjoy the fruits of your good work. He is sapping the joy out of you. I don’t think that’s something you should compromise on.

So I’d encourage you not to change your mind now. Not to settle for a life deprived of joy and a room to breathe. You know how to live a good life. You’ve experienced it before:

I’d that time to heal after a failed relationship and I lived my new self, feeling happy and content in ever way.

You can have that again. You’re totally capable of that. 50 years young. Decades are ahead of you…

Get your beloved dog and move, into a better future. I imagine it won’t be easy, but you’ve got much more to win than what you’ve got to lose!