Dear Beni:

You acknowledged having a controlling mother but also mentioned an accepting father, stating that although your parents provide physical support, there was a lack of emotional support and interest.

You expressed a desire to break free from the past and take on an adult role in your life but you struggle with comparing your childhood to others’ and feeling that your problems are silly or made up. This self-invalidation prevents you from fully acknowledging your experiences and the impact of these experiences on you. You want to believe that your experiences are valid and that trauma can result from small stresses.

My input today: for young children, stresses and trauma are significant even when as adults looking back and comparing, those stresses look small in comparison to other people’s sufferings.

It is important to understand that children don’t have the same perspective as adults. They don’t have the ability to compare their experiences to others’ and minimize their own trauma. For the child, the stress and trauma they experience are very real and impactful. So, when you are now minimizing your suffering as a child by comparing your suffering to others’- the boy that you were (who is still a big part of you)- did not and does not compare. His emotional sufferings were- are real and significant.

By the way, everything is physical: emotional experiences are physical, involving chemicals that are released into the blood and create physical reactions in our physical bodies, even when such reactions are not evident to the outside.

Also, a child who suffers traumas like natural disasters, wars, crime (such things that seem way bigger- in an adult’s mind- than a child who let’s say suffered from a peer at school who said hurtful things to the child), if they have emotional support from caregivers/ adults, they are likely to end up way less damaged emotionally than a child experiencing a bully in school and having no emotional support from parents or teachers.

Emotional support is crucial to the emotional health of the child. It softens the blows of negative events and experiences. Having no emotional support=> there’s nothing to soften the blows.

I hope this helps explain why childhood stresses and traumas are significant, even if they seem small- in an adult’s mind- in comparison to other people’s suffering.

“so I’m crying for justice but also I’m an adult now. And I want to be the adult in this relationship. I want to break free”- to break free, you will need to get to a point where you no longer compare and minimize and invalidate your childhood sufferings.

It’s a good thing, Beni, that you are actively creating space for yourself. Please create more space for yourself by validating your experiences as a child. This is essential for nurturing your authentic self.

Continue to engage in activities that allow you to express yourself and feel safe, whether it’s volunteering or other pursuits that bring you peace. Your approach to experiencing emotions mindfully, with equanimity and compassion, is commendable. Befriending yourself and accepting your emotions can help reduce internal conflict and foster self-compassion, softening blows in life.

It’s important to find a balance between not pushing yourself too hard and taking gentle steps towards your goals. Small, manageable actions can help you build confidence without overwhelming yourself. Celebrate every small victory along the way.

Building meaningful connections can be challenging, especially with a history of feeling emotionally unsupported. It’s okay to take your time and seek out relationships that align with your values and needs. Trust that authentic connections will come with time and patience.

Your spiritual journey is a valuable path for self-discovery and inner peace. Embrace this journey and allow it to guide you towards a deeper understanding of yourself and your place in the world.

Beni, your awareness and willingness to explore your emotions and experiences are truly admirable. Continue to honor your journey, and know that it’s okay to seek support when needed. You are not alone, and your path towards healing and growth is uniquely yours. Thank you again for sharing, and I’m here for you if you have more thoughts or questions.

anita

Dear Beni:

You’re very welcome! Take all the time you need to let it sink in. I’m here whenever you want to reach out.

Sending you love and best wishes

anita

Dear Ben:

Your words, June 2023–July 2024: “I do not have space for her pain in these situations because of my own pain… I talk about a situation where I showed myself vulnerable last year… and instead of being listened to, she started with her pain… She was too close. There was not enough space for me… By not expressing myself I protect my Mom from worrying, or meet her need for control… I need a strong mother. I need an anchor… I think I want her to really see me and see me equal… I do not wish to be controlled… It sometimes feels like that I am my mom, and myself is this thing I can’t control.”

Dec 18, 2024: “I might get overwhelmed being held by other people. I have been looking for a family all my life. Maybe I could find this delusive family in the Amazonian rain forest. Or I wait till I can create it in myself. I grieve about this inside. It’s something which is giving me a hard time. I’m tired of chasing dreams.”

Jan 28, 2025: “I need to befriend myself.”

Growing up, your mother was volatile, controlling, highly emotional. She was not strong enough or emotionally regulated to be the solid anchor you needed. In order to create, so to speak, the strong mother you desperately needed, you sacrificed your child-self—diminishing your own emotional expression to make space for hers.

Whenever you expressed pain or vulnerability, she overreacted, making it about her own emotions. This robbed you of the space to exist emotionally—to be validated, understood, and allowed to feel without guilt. Over time, you learned that revealing your emotions meant triggering her overwhelm, so you adapted by silencing yourself, making emotional suppression a survival mechanism.

The Harm of Suppressing Emotion:

* Chronic emotional exhaustion—constantly holding back, filtering, or numbing your own feelings.

* Loss of self-trust—never fully knowing if your emotions are “allowed” or justified.

* Detachment from identity—becoming someone shaped by others’ emotional needs rather than your own natural experiences.

* Fear of vulnerability—connection carries the risk of further suppression, losing yourself, or feeling controlled again.

* Emotional death—the haunting fear of being viewed as false, inauthentic, and ultimately losing yourself entirely.

The Path to Healing:

Your words about searching for family, grieving inside, and being tired of chasing dreams show how deeply you long for something real, something that honors who you are. But the most powerful thing you said was: “I need to befriend myself.”

This holds the key. Healing isn’t about finding something external to complete you—it’s about learning to stand in your own emotions without fear, without shaping them to fit someone else’s comfort.

Befriending yourself might mean:

* Allowing your emotions without needing to prove they’re valid.

* Honoring your needs even when they feel small or quiet.

* Unlearning the idea that you must sacrifice yourself in order to be seen.

* Reclaiming emotional space, knowing that your feelings matter.

You deserve to take up space—not just for your pain, but for joy, love, and self-trust. You are not wrong for feeling deeply. You are not weak for needing something real. And you are not alone.

I want you to know, Ben, that my motivation for reaching out here, in this post, isn’t about fixing you or leading you somewhere you haven’t chosen. I care about the expression of the suppressed, because I’ve experienced it myself. I’ve been where words were swallowed instead of spoken, where emotions felt like a burden instead of a right. What I offer is not advice from a detached place—it’s what I’ve learned in my own journey. If anything resonates, take it. If not, discard it. My only wish is that you never feel alone in this process.

I want to close with a writing exercise that might help. Let’s call it “Giving Voice to the Unspoken”-

– Step 1: Write Without a Filter

Set a timer for 10–15 minutes and write freely without stopping. Don’t worry about grammar, making sense, or judging your thoughts—just let your emotions flow onto the page. Start with:

* “If my emotions could speak freely, they would say…”

Let the words come as they are—anger, grief, exhaustion, longing, frustration, hope—whatever needs to surface.

– Step 2: The Suppressed Dialogue

Write two voices: one representing the suppressed emotions (pain, anger, resentment, things left unsaid), the other representing the part of you that silences or suppresses them (self-doubt, fear, survival mode).

Let these voices speak to each other. Example:

* Suppressed voice: “I am tired of carrying the weight of unspoken words.” * Suppressing voice: “But expressing them might make things worse.”

Let both sides speak honestly—this helps externalize inner conflict and reveal emotional truths you may not realize.

– Step 3: A Letter to Yourself

After writing, pause and reflect. Then, write a letter to yourself, as if you were talking to a close friend who struggles with suppression. Offer kindness, validation, and permission to feel.

* “You are allowed to feel this. Your emotions don’t need justification. They just are.”

.. In fact, I in tend to do this exercise myself in a few minutes from now, in my new thread: “Our World is a Complex Mess of PTSD”. You are welcome to read it, and comment about it there- if you so choose

I’m here, Ben, I care and I am always happy to listen as you walk this path. 💛

Warmly, Anita

About my own alienation, suppression and reconnection, speaking my own truth:

My mother was emotional, controlling (of me), and unpredictable—she wasn’t the strong, steady, contained presence I needed.

For hours, she would tell me about all the times she had been wronged, recounting them in painstaking detail. Often, she insisted I had wronged her, too. If an emotion showed on my face—even a fleeting expression she disapproved of—she accused me of it.

I remember once, when I was five or six, I happened to express my pain, my angst—but instead of comfort, she accused me of doing something wrong.

Once, I couldn’t help but express my distress about missing her. She responded with contained anger—not her usual uncontrolled, frightening rage. In that moment, my longing for her was an inconvenience.

She used to tell me that, compared to her childhood, I was lucky, and therefore had no right to feel anything but gratitude—as if any pain I had was invalid, unjustified. But instead of embracing my supposed “luck,” she resented it. She shamed and guilt-tripped me for having the physical comforts that she didn’t.

She took center stage in emotional expression—there was space for hers, but never for mine. I learned to hide what I felt, to silence myself. There was no room for me to be heard, seen, or validated.

I lived in fear of expressing anything that inconvenienced her, never knowing when my emotions might unintentionally surface on my face, in the tone of my voice, or in the “wrong” choice of words—only to be condemned or lashed out at.

Silencing myself became a way to try to avoid conflict, and it became a deeply ingrained habit. My emotions were no longer something to feel—they were something to suppress.

I grew exhausted from holding everything in. I started doubting myself—not even knowing what I felt, whether my thoughts were correct, or even something as simple as what ice cream flavor I preferred. Making thoughtful choices or decisions became an excruciating process, resulting in the situation that my choices were largely impulsive.

I lost touch with who I was. Connecting with people became terrifying, because it required me to feel emotions that were overwhelming. And so, I lived a socially isolated life for the most part. Alone and Lonely. And Afraid. Confused, Troubled and Exhausted. The fear and suppressed emotions fueled my motor and vocal tics since early childhood, a constant physical tension and pain that’s ongoing.

About Reconnection: Through expressing myself and speaking my truth—just as I am doing now in this post—I have been freeing my emotions from the suffocating darkness of suppression. Where they once lacked air, light, and space, they are now emerging, breathing, and finally being seen.

Freed, they are no longer so intense, no longer overwhelming. It feels as if, almost suddenly, I have the strength to hold them—instead of fearing them so much that I had to push them away, just to protect myself from the overwhelm.

I am no longer afraid of that energy in motion (e-motion) like I used to be, so I give them their space to be, to breathe.

As a matter of fact, Ben, if you’re reading this—you’ve been a part of my journey in reconnecting to my emotions. It was in your thread that I first read the phrase “giving space” to emotions, and it stayed with me. That simple yet profound idea helped shape my own healing, and for that, I thank you. 🙏💛

Anita