Dear Alessa:

Thank you for trusting me with this question. ❤️

I could have written what you shared myself: “My instinctive bond with my biological mother was damaged to the point that I no longer felt it toward her. I learned to not come to her for any reason and avoid her as much as possible. As a young teen, I began to hate her.”- Same here.

It was only recently, through my writings on tiny buddha, that I reconnected with the love I had for her before the Damage (I’m emphasizing your word “damaged” with a capital D). It truly surprised me.

Not only did I rediscover the love I had for her before the Damage, but I realized that I loved her all along. Before, during, and after the Damage, that love remained, even though I thought for years that I hated her.

For me, the Damage was the Betrayal—the betrayal of a child’s natural, necessary trust in the mother. The shock of it, the raw trauma of realizing I was not safe in her hands. It must have been overwhelming.

Yet, the love I feel for her now does not mean trust. It does not mean there is a bond. It does not mean the anger is gone. This love is not even something I chose—it simply is.

Healing from this early-life Betrayal of Trust, for me, means honoring the trust others place in me. If someone trusts me, I do my best to be worthy of that trust. That realization—that honoring others’ trust matters so deeply to me—is something I’ve only fully embraced in the past few months.

When my mother betrayed my natural trust as a child, it created deep pain—an emotional rupture where safety, reliability, and connection were lost. By choosing to honor trust in my own relationships, I am learning to actively shape trust in my life. I am no longer at the mercy of someone else’s choices—I decide to be someone who is reliable and safe.

Honoring trust shifts the focus from pain to purpose—proving that despite past betrayal, I am capable of trust and connection. Caring about trust is an act of healing, growth, and self-repair.

I just remembered, Alessa—long ago, you mentioned that you are a very loyal person, and those words stayed with me. Now, I find myself wondering—are you loyal to yourself? Do you honor the trust that little-girl Alessa placed in grown-up Alessa?

I’m asking myself the same question. And the answer? Yes—though it’s a very recent realization for me, and it has made a huge difference. In the past, little-girl Anita was strangely silent, almost muted. But now, she speaks from time to time, offering me valuable insights that I could never find anywhere else.

Being loyal to myself is a new journey—one that is still unfolding. It means respecting my own needs and feelings rather than ignoring them, standing up for myself, keeping promises to myself, being honest with myself, choosing what’s best for me instead of just pleasing others, and ultimately, supporting myself no matter what.

Looking back at your post, you said to me, “Stay true to yourself! You are the expert in your own needs.”-

Where do you feel you are right now, in terms of being true to yourself and understanding what you need? Has that awareness grown for you over time?

anita