Dear 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.

Dear 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

Dear 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?

Thanks, Alessa <3

Dear 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

Dear Panda,

sometimes talking to him just annoys me and makes me frustrated and mad
it’s scary when i feel bothered just talking to him

Are 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?

Dear 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.

Dear 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.