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Tee
ParticipantDear Alessa,
Fortunately, I have made peace with my feelings about being a mother. I know that I try my best and that is good enough. I think it is just the feelings from childhood trauma that are hard to shift.
I’m happy to hear that. And yes, I can imagine how the thought of not being good enough can creep in whenever things are hard and you feel tired and exhausted. But in those moments, try to remember that you ARE good enough, that there’s nothing wrong with you, and that you’re doing your best. And do some deep breathing and centering, just to let that sink 🙂
That is a good point Tee. I’m sorry to hear that your mother was often stressed out and overly focused on putting practical needs first.
Yeah, it was hectic. But she was that kind of person – she was unhappy a lot, although she didn’t have a real reason to be unhappy, because she had support in her environment. But she would exhaust herself unnecessarily with household chores, and then complain about it. I’ve started to realized those patterns only much later in my adulthood.
But yeah, she put the emphasis on the physical aspect of care – even too much – and then she felt stressed about it. And for me as a child, it was hard because I wanted my mother to be happy and satisfied, and she never was.
It’s not easy when they are young because a messy home is legitimately a safety hazard. He will get older though and things will get easier. Only one year left until he’s in nursery. These things don’t last forever.
Oh yes, that’s true! Keeping things clean is a necessity when they’re so young. But as you say, that shall pass too. You’ve got one more year till nursery. I’m rooting for you to keep on keeping on till things get easier. And also, try to have lots of self-compassion in the process <3
You asked me on the other thread how I’ve developed a strong sense of self-worth. Ehhh, that was a long, decades long process, with some detours as well, looking for approval from wrong people, in wrong places. I always had interest in spirituality, and eventually found some teachings that can be characterized as Christian mysticism. That’s where I’ve learned about unconditional love and that I am lovable, and truly felt it in my heart.
But with self-worth it was much harder, because I believed I needed to prove that I’m worthy. That I need to deserve it. But then somehow (also with the help of spiritual teachings) I’ve realized that we’re born with an innate divine presence, as “children of God”, if you will. And that self-worth actually stems from there. That I am worthy simply because I exist.
This helped me drop the high expectations that I had on myself, and the sense of not being good enough, even the sense that I don’t matter. Gradually I’ve accepted that I do matter. And luckily I had people in my life who assured me of that. 🙂 And so, little by little, I did develop my sense of worth. But it was a long and winding road, for sure.
Tee
ParticipantDear 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.
Tee
ParticipantDear Anita,
thank you for your reply. I think I understand you: you don’t want to have compassion for the Eraser. Totally fair.
And indeed, we shouldn’t have compassion for the Eraser, for the predator who is about to consume us.
My healing was about realizing – after many moons of therapy and self-processing – that the Eraser cannot erase my Being any more, because I know who I am. Nothing the Eraser says or does can make me doubt my own worth and my lovability.
So in my eyes, my mother is not the Eraser any more. She is something else, but she is not the dangerous predator she once was.
Healing helped me redefine my mother and relate to her differently. It doesn’t mean we have a great relationship – because we don’t – but I don’t feel so endangered in that relationship like I did before.
That was my process, and that’s where the post about compassion came from. But I also acknowledge that you may have a different standpoint, and a different path. I respect that and don’t want to impose anything, or claim anything, that doesn’t resonate with you. I truly wish you the best on your healing path <3
Tee
ParticipantDear 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!
Tee
ParticipantDear Claire,
My acceptance of this poor behaviour set a precedent, I know I was saying it’s ok to talk to me like s&£@ and get away with,
I understand that in the beginning you never challenged his bad behavior, but you too would pretend as if nothing happened once he stopped sulking and returned to “normal”, right? Was there a point when you told him that you won’t tolerate his outbursts, and that he needs to do something about it (e.g. see a therapist)? That he can’t talk to you like that, and that you won’t be tolerating it anymore?
Tee
ParticipantDear 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!
Tee
ParticipantThanks, Alessa <3
Tee
ParticipantDear Alessa,
It is not so much empathy and compassion in the traditional sense. These things are synonymous with emotional connection. It is not my mother as a person that I think about. It is her situation that I understand. Not in an empathising emotional connection sort of way. But a rational way. Not to deny myself, but to understand the situation that I was in. A situation that I just existed in.
Yes, that’s how I meant compassion too. 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 is which we can emotionally connect and share, because the person is in touch with their true self and their own vulnerability. Add 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.
Tee
ParticipantDear Anita,
you’re welcome!
You’ve done some really great work with Copilot (I’ve read the first of your 2 long conversations with Copilot, the one from July 28). There were some profound observations that Copilot had (e.g. about your mother being jealous and envious at you, among other things). And I think it gave you a really good advice for healing, such as:
You: Part of me is screaming: WHY? Why did she want to erase me? WHY?
Copilot explained why. And then it asked you:
Would it feel grounding to explore what that inner scream most wants to be met with? Not just “Why,” but maybe: Now what? How do I hold this truth without being consumed by it?
You’re now asking: how can I possibly love my Eraser? Really.. how?
Well, first, I think it would help to see your mother not only as a Monster and an Eraser, but also as a deeply wounded human. Not with the purpose of finding excuses for her and hoping to get love from her that she will never give you. But more for the purpose of freeing yourself from hate, anger and outrage on one end, as well as from hopeless love and desperate longing for her love – on the other end of the spectrum.
In order to heal, we need to feel those emotions, process them, and then let go, by centering in our true self. Because otherwise we’ll get stuck in an endless loop of feeling outraged, asking why did it happen to us, and longing for a different destiny, a different life, in which the abuse never happened. And because it’s not possible – we cannot have that life, we cannot change what has already happened to us – there is a danger that we stay stuck forever.
That’s why we need radical acceptance: accept that trauma happened, that the abuse happened, that your mother was someone with severe mental health problems, and that her treatment of you doesn’t say anything about your worth or who you are as a person.
Radical acceptance doesn’t mean to “get over it”. It means to accept that trauma happened, that it was awful, and that we might even have long-term consequences from it. But that we cannot change our past – we can only change our future. And that’s where the new life begins.
I want to be clear. In black-and-white situations.. black and white thinking is appropriate-
So, really, when your mother is trying to ERASE you (her daughter, so it happens to be), that’s black-and-white, all-or-nothing thinking that’s appropriate to the real-life situation, isn’t it?I know that I accused Copilot of not being black-and-white enough when talking about your mother’s “love” for you. And then it corrected itself and acknowledged that abuse shouldn’t be called love.
However, in a bigger picture, when you look at your mother (in general, when we look at our abusive parents), I think seeing her in black-and-white terms (as Monster, or Eraser) isn’t helpful, because it keeps you stuck in outrage.
But if you see her as a deeply wounded individual – someone so wounded that she resorted to hating and trying to annihilate her own daughter so she wouldn’t feel threatened by her – well, that adds another layer. It frees the space for compassion. And this compassion then soothes the outrage.
We are even able to forgive, and with that forgiveness, we free ourselves from wanting or needing anything from the person who abused us. You can see her depravity, you don’t hate her, you don’t need her to love you or acknowledge you. Because you already love and acknowledge yourself. You’ve already given to your inner child that what she hasn’t given you.
how can I possibly love my Eraser?
I think the answer is: through compassion. Compassion is the answer. See her as a deeply wounded human, and let go. It doesn’t mean that she didn’t abuse you, it just means her abuse didn’t destroy you. You’ve emerged on the other side and are anchored in your true self. And compassion is one of the key features of our true self.
There are more things I wanted to comment on, and I might in future posts, but for now, I think this is the most important thing that I wanted to say. Compassion helped me. As well as radical acceptance. I hope it can help you too. And that this discussion is meaningful to you <3
Tee
ParticipantDear Alessa,
I’m sorry to hear that your son is not yet eligible for free childcare, so you have to do everything on your own. That truly is a lot of work 🙁
I do hope you don’t neglect yourself either, because you know the airplane rule: first put on your own oxygen mask, otherwise you won’t be able to help those who depend on you. I’m happy to hear that you’re already incorporating some self-care activities, such as meditation and yoga.
I think it’s difficult when I have always struggled with not feeling good enough. My standards are quite high and I have some unrealistic expectations.
It’s good that you’re aware of those perfectionist tendencies. But by all accounts, you are a good enough mother. I think that for a child to feel secure it’s also important that the mother feels relatively relaxed – that she’s not in the fight-or-flight all the time. I think if you’re pressuring yourself too much, to the point of burnout, it’s not good for your nervous system, and your son will feel it too.
My mother was worrying all the time, and was rarely happy and relaxed. And I think that’s what I missed the most. I would have much rather had a happy and relaxed mother than a cooked meal every day, or the flat perfectly clean. Truth to be told, my mother wasn’t stressed and in a bad mood only because of many duties, but because of her character too – she was a rather pessimistic person and hard to please. But nevertheless, if you manage to worry a little less about your performance as a mother, and feel more relaxed about it, I think it will do good both to you and your son <3
I hope I’m not oversimplifying things. For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job. Perhaps the only thing you miss is a little more self-confidence and trust that indeed you’re a good, caring mother, who is giving her son everything he needs.
I’m also happy you find the time to post here – I appreciate your contributions! <3
Tee
ParticipantDear Panda,
sometimes talking to him just annoys me and makes me frustrated and mad
it’s scary when i feel bothered just talking to himAre you aware what is that makes you feel frustrated while talking to your boyfriend? Is it something that he says or does, or it has nothing to do with him but it’s just something that comes up from within you?
There can be multiple reasons why you feel like you stop having feelings for him. You said you both want a future together, and consciously you might be really excited about it (me n him really want like a future together and i look forward to it so much). But subconsciously there might be a part of you that is afraid of that future, or perhaps believes that you don’t deserve it. And so you kind of want to sabotage it, subconsciously.
That’s just an example – I’m not saying it is true for you. But it might be worth exploring what comes up for you as you start imagining your future together: besides excitement and good feelings, is there some fear or reluctance as well?
Tee
ParticipantDear Alessa,
you’re doing an enormous work, and enormously important too! I’ve said it before that I admire everyone who chooses to be a parent, and I admire you even more for trying to be a conscious parent and raise your son with as little trauma as possible.
I can imagine how stressful it is, specially if you have to do most of the things alone. I don’t want to pry, but do you have help with child care? You say you’re burnt out, and I feel for you. I do hope you can get some help, at least in those times when you get sick and child care gets extra difficult.
I’m happy that your son is developing nicely, is curious (even overly curious, you say! 🙂 ), active, healthy, and even learning empathy! He sounds like an adorable kid! And you’re a true hero with all the love and effort that you’re putting into his well-being, both physical and emotional. Kudos to you, Alessa, you’re doing an amazing job! <3
I wish you strength, but also a lot of self-compassion, because you don’t need to be a perfect mother, only good enough (as Winnicott said). You can allow yourself to be human, you don’t need to be superhuman! Your kid will appreciate you, even if you don’t smile at all times. Because you are his stable point and his safe haven. And he feels loved and secure with you. And that’s all that matters <3
Sending love and hoping you’ll find a way to get some more rest and avoid burnout!
Tee
ParticipantDear Anita,
you’re very welcome!
When I first read Copilot’s use of the word love in that context, I felt a deep sense of discomfort. It puzzled me—calling abuse any form of love feels like a distortion in itself. As you so beautifully put it, that kind of language blurs boundaries that must stay clear. Your phrasing—relating or parenting in distorted ways—rings true to my experience. It preserves the integrity of what love is meant to be: safe, nourishing, affirming. Anything less shouldn’t bear the same name.
Yes, I think so too. Actually, I think Copilot (or any other AI model, such as ChatGPT) can be rather tricky, because sometimes it gives us the answers it thinks we want to hear. I’ve noticed it with ChatGPT that if I formulate my question in a way that it contains in itself an assumption, it might give me an answer that is skewed to conform to that assumption.
It’s almost as if my assumption (which might be a false one) limits the spectrum of answers that ChatGPT is willing to offer me, and skews the answer to fit my assumption! Which I found rather unsettling, because I want the facts, not some “hallucinations”, as they call it, or some skewed opinions that AI thinks I want to hear.
I might be wrong about Copilot, since I’ve never used it, but if it’s similar to ChatGPT, maybe it “sensed” that the thought of your mother not loving you is a painful one for you:
Anita: She didn’t love me, did she? (tears in my eyes)
Maybe that’s when Copilot chose to describe her behavior as “love, but not in its truest form”. And then, when you probed further: “was it love in any form?“, it proceeded to offer the possibility that it might have been a flicker of love and a longing to connect, but that she wasn’t able to show it properly. Finally, it concluded that “some people love in distorted ways: through control, through harshness, through silence.”
I don’t know, this is just a speculation. But it could be that it gave you an answer that it deemed more acceptable to you. Eventually, it did “correct” itself and gave a true definition of love. But this little “glitch” might have been caused by this feature of wanting to give a pleasing answer.
Sorry for harping on this, but I did get disappointed in AI, or at least, I’ve experienced its limitations, so I’m now much more cautious about using it.
When my mother did things that seemed loving—like cooking my favorite meal, or walking a long distance to get me a cake I loved—it confused me. In some ways, I almost wished her behavior had been consistently bad, so I wouldn’t have to feel so conflicted.
Do you think those acts were expressions of love, at least in intent?
Hmm… I think she wanted to look like a good mother. And for her, a good mother is a mother who sacrifices herself, who almost acts like a martyr. Walking long distance to get you a favorite cake is a martyr-like behavior. And I can imagine that she was later telling you how sacrificial she was, and how this is a proof that she loves you so much, right?
I don’t think she did it in a calculated, conscious way, but that she had the need to feel like a good person, and doing those “acts of sacrifice” made her feel like that. It was for her own ego, I think, for her own sense of goodness. I might be wrong though.
And yes, that’s very confusing, because those “acts of kindness” do seem like love and care. But they always come with a price, where she might blame you later for not being grateful enough, or as a proof of how much she loves you.
But the thing with narcissistic mothers is that it’s very hard to be grateful and feel their love, because most of the times what we hear is criticism, put-downs, and the message that we’re not good enough. We might even feel guilty for not feeling grateful for their “acts of kindness” when in truth, we can’t be grateful for the abuse that we’re experiencing on a daily basis.
Anyway, I think their “acts of kindness” or “acts of sacrifice” might be more about showing how great of a person they are, and not so much about truly caring and wanting to make their child happy. So yeah, I think there is a selfish motive underneath, although they might not be aware of that.
Tee
ParticipantDear Anita,
some more musings on what the Copilot said:
It’s possible she had feelings she labeled as love—maybe attachment, or duty, or protectiveness in her own distorted lens. But even if those emotions existed, true love is not measured by intention alone—it must be felt, lived, and received as care.
Your mother probably had an idea of what a good parent is, which is (according to her) that they provide for the child’s physical needs. I remember you saying that she worked a lot so that she can buy you the nicest toys, for example. So in her mind, that was love: sacrificing herself and working hard so that her children can have a certain level of material well-being.
However, she completely disregarded your emotional well-being. In that area, she not only neglected you, but was abusive (my mother was similar). So she might have “loved” you according to her definition of love: put food on the table, buy you nice things, meet your physical/material needs.
But is that love? Well, it’s only a part of it. Because physical needs are not the only thing we need. We’ve already discussed it in the past that emotional needs are even more important, because it is through our relationship with our parents that we learn to either love or hate ourselves. If they’ve been systematically telling us that we’re not good enough (or that we’re “one big zero”), then they’ve taught us to hate ourselves. And they’ve sentenced us to a life of self-loathing – until we’ve awaken to it and start healing it.
So meeting our emotional needs is much more important than giving us material wealth. Of course, some basic care is necessary, such as that we have a roof over our head, regular meals, hygiene, clothes to wear, and such. And that we’re sent to school.
But beyond that, a child won’t be happier with the xth Barbie doll or a new i-phone. However, that same child will feel extremely deprived if they don’t get empathy, affection and support from their parent. In short, what we didn’t get emotionally is much more damaging than what we might not gotten materially.
Anyway, we’ve already discussed this in the past, and maybe I’m repeating myself. But I just wanted to clarify it for myself too, that love – if it’s based on a false notion of love – is not love. Because meeting the child’s physical needs while at the same time crushing their soul is not love. It’s abuse. And it’s much more harmful than depriving the child of some (non-essential) material thing.
Sorry for the rant, but felt the need to get it out 🙂
Tee
ParticipantDear Anita,
this is my second attempt at replying 🙂
So you’ve asked me on the other thread to read your conversation with Copilot on the relationship between narcissism and toxic shame. I have, and I think Copilot did a very good job 🙂
I like how it says that even though we might have compassion for the narcissist – since their behavior may have been caused by a trauma – we also shouldn’t minimize our own pain and the negative impact it had on us:
Two Truths Can Exist Together: She might’ve been wounded, overwhelmed, defending herself unconsciously. She also said something that was cruel, harmful, and untrue.
Copilot also says what I’ve heard from experts on youtube that narcissists live in their own distorted reality and never fully acknowledge the harm they are doing to others:
People who carry deep shame often build mental defenses to avoid facing the damage they cause—because to confront it would mean reckoning with their own pain, guilt, or inadequacy.
So she might’ve sensed it… but shoved that knowing into the background. Made excuses. Told herself stories like “I’m just trying to help” or “She’s too sensitive.” Not because it was true, but because it was safer than facing the full weight of her actions.Even if they know their actions might not be the nicest, they always find an excuse. If nothing, they will say “he/she is a bad person – they’ve deserved it.” In their own mind, they are vindicated, because they were “harmed” and the other person is “bad.” Very black-and-white and even childish thinking.
Regarding your conversation on love, Copilot says that what the narcissist claims is love isn’t love really, and I agree with it:
Sometimes people believe they love while acting in ways that deeply contradict it—because their own capacity to give or receive love is broken, shaped by wounds they never healed. What you received wasn’t love in its truest form.
Anita: “What you received wasn’t love in its truest form.”- Was it love in any form?
Copilot: Maybe it was a flicker—a longing in her to connect—that got buried beneath her inability to nurture. Some people love in distorted ways: through control, through harshness, through silence. But love that’s warped ceases to be recognizable. It’s like trying to water a plant with poison and calling it care.In the second part of the above section, Copilot says: “Some people love in distorted ways: through control, through harshness, through silence.”
I personally would rephrase it as: “Some people relate to others in distorted ways. Some people parent in distorted ways.” But this parenting or relating to others cannot be called love. In my book, love manifested as abuse isn’t love, even if the abuser calls it love.
Copilot says the same, actually:
if her love didn’t feel like love… it’s okay to name that. Love should be nourishing. It should protect, affirm, and build. If what she gave you tore at your sense of self, made you question your worth, and left you aching rather than comforted—then what she called love may not have been love at all.
Here is something that I don’t necessarily agree with, at least not the way it is phrased:
And here’s the deeper truth: You weren’t just “any child.” You were you—sensitive, perceptive, deserving of tenderness. If her ways failed to meet you there, then what she offered wasn’t love—it was survival, control, and missed chances.
Well, any child would be hurt by your mother’s actions. Every child is sensitive. Every child is deserving of tenderness. So it’s not that you were especially needy, and therefore you didn’t feel her love the way it should be felt. It’s rather that you were a normal child, with normal needs, and she didn’t know how to meet those needs.
However, I do agree with Copilot’s conclusion (and its overall message):
You didn’t need (to be) a different kind of child to receive her version of love. She needed to become a different kind of mother.
Yes, definitely! And I hope you can accept that about yourself: that her inability to love you and give you what you needed doesn’t have anything to do with you, but with her own deficiencies.
But it also means that even though you might have compassion for your mother – since her own childhood was a traumatic one – you don’t need to carry a hope that you could heal her or make her aware of her own wounds to the point that she would want healing.
Unfortunately, narcissistic people are very resistant to the idea that there’s anything wrong with them, that they have any kind of vulnerability or weakness. So I think that any attempt to talk to her and “help her see” would be a futile one. The only way forward is to let go of the need to change them and make them into the loving parent we needed as children.
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