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Should I Forget about him, or was he the one that got away?

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  • #447330
    anita
    Participant

    Dear Emma:

    Reading your message, I was struck by how deeply you’re feeling and reflecting—and also by how often you seem to question whether your emotions are valid. That reminded me of something important: emotional invalidation in childhood, and how it quietly shapes our lives long after we’ve grown.

    When a child’s emotions are dismissed, criticized, or ignored—whether through silence, mockery, or overreaction—they learn that their feelings are not safe or trustworthy. Over time, this can lead to chronic self-doubt, difficulty setting boundaries, and a constant need for others to confirm what we feel.

    I saw this so clearly in your words:

    “I constantly doubt myself… if getting angry about something is justified – which causes me to ask any of my friends/family if they would be angry in that moment, so I know if I am allowed to be.”- This is such a clear example of emotional invalidation’s legacy—needing others to confirm your right to feel.

    “I guess I felt like I may have had control over myself if I would have thought more clearly…”- That belief—that emotions are a failure of logic—is something many of us carry when our feelings were treated as problems rather than signals.

    When we grow up without emotional validation, it’s like being a ship out at sea with no way to steer. Our emotions are supposed to help guide us—they tell us what feels right or wrong, what we need, and when we’ve been hurt. But if we’re taught to ignore our emotions, or think they’re wrong, we lose that guidance. We end up letting other people’s opinions, moods, or expectations decide things for us. We feel lost—not because we’re weak, but because no one ever showed us how to trust what we feel.

    Emma, your feelings have always made sense. You didn’t do anything wrong by feeling deeply—you were just trying to survive in a world that didn’t know how to support you. And now, you’re doing something really strong: you’re learning to listen to yourself again, to trust your feelings, and to find your own way.

    You don’t need permission to feel. You already have the right.

    With care, Anita 🤍

    #447341
    anita
    Participant

    Dear Emma:

    I’ve been a bit busier than usual lately, though not quite as much as I expected with the Fourth of July weekend—so I’ve had a little more time in front of the computer, and you’ve been on my mind.

    There’s something I wanted to share with you, in case it resonates. It’s a concept called shadow work. It’s about becoming aware of the parts of ourselves we’ve learned to hide—things like anger, shame, jealousy, or even the belief that we’re “too much” or “not enough.” These parts often form in childhood or past relationships, where we were made to feel that certain emotions or needs weren’t acceptable.

    Shadow work is about gently noticing those parts, understanding where they came from, and learning to accept them instead of pushing them away.

    You once mentioned being surprised that Philip liked you, and wondering if someone more secure or less emotional would have been a better match. That really stayed with me. Shadow work, in this case, might mean turning toward the part of you that feels unworthy—not to fix it, but to understand it and care for it. It can begin with something very simple.

    Here’s one way to start:

    Notice when the feeling shows up. Maybe it’s when you think, “I was too much,” or “He wouldn’t have left if I were better.” Just pause and gently say to yourself, “Ah, this is the part of me that feels unworthy.”

    Ask where it came from. You might wonder, “When did I first feel this way?” or “Whose voice does this sound like?” Often, these feelings come from early experiences—times when we were made to feel like our emotions or needs were too much, or not welcome.

    Speak to that part with kindness. Imagine it as a younger version of yourself—maybe a little girl who just wanted to be loved and accepted. You might say, “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were never too much. You were just trying to be seen.”

    Let the feeling be there without judgment. You don’t have to make it go away. Just letting it exist, without pushing it down or trying to explain it away, is already healing.

    Remind yourself of your worth. Not because of what you do or how well you handle things—but simply because you exist. You are worthy of love, care, and gentleness, even when you feel unsure or afraid.

    This kind of work takes time, and it’s okay to move slowly. You’ve already shown so much courage by naming your feelings and sharing your story. That’s not weakness—it’s strength.

    You don’t have to be perfect to be lovable. You already are.

    Have you ever tried something like this before?

    With warmth and care, Anita 🤍

    #447351
    J.
    Participant

    Hi Anita,

    Thank you so much for reaching out even though your weekend is so busy. Shadow work sounds like its very helpful for me – I think Philip even represented the part of me – the strong part, taking control over you own life – which I have never learned to do. I rememebr seeing a clip on youtube about healing, and they asked a question, which animals would you need there to soothe you? I wanteda lion and an eagle, I remember, they really made me cry. I think it is because I feel like a lack strength and agnecy over my own life. My mum is so sensitove, when I told her about the things that hurt me in the past she did, she cries and she told me I am overly sensitive. It does make me angry, because as you said before: I do think you’re right in saying there was never much space for acknowledging my feelings. I remember my falling saying we should “reload”, or whatever word he used, in Dutch it was something like ‘restore’, by which he meant, ‘change feelings’ whenever especially my brother got angry. I think this shows we were not really allowed to be angry. It does make me angry at my parents – maybe this is not fair. But it keeps me from getting to close to my parents now that I am older – I don’t want them too close anymore because I want to be free. My fatyher tells me I should tell him if there is something he did wrong – but my mum does not like it and makes me feel bad for doing it. Very confusing. She was not used to doing that herself I think, she recently told me she told her sister that her sister hurt her, and this was a first for her…
    I am trying to not think about Philip too much anymore, as my friends and brother told me it won’t help me, what happened has happened, it will only hurt me to think about him and the memories. It is true, my mood gets better npt thinking too much about him. But I do feel a sadness, and such regret for me not being ready for him. He could have been everything I could have needed, if it would have been the right time. A little hope is still there, biut it should not, as you said, because he is hurt too much and he told me to go away so harshly. Pushing people away when things get tough seems to be a very distructive pattern I have taken on – but this is how I cope whne I don’t dear to assert boundaries or speak up.

    I read a comment of a lady on this website, who is also fearful avoidant, and she said she broke up with a fearful avoidant guy. I wonder, do you think Philip had an attachment problem too?

    With love and warmth,

    Emma

    #447352
    J.
    Participant

    I hope you had a nive 4th of July, I believe that is a big celebration in the US right?

    Emma

    #447356
    anita
    Participant

    Dear Emma:

    Yes, the 4th of July is a big celebration here. I spent much of the day downtown—streets were closed, thousands of people gathered, and there was a huge parade. One part of the parade really stood out to me: a group of belly dancers in beautiful costumes. One of them looked to be in her early 30s, another in her 50s, and one was likely in her late 60s.

    They’re part of the Every Body is a Belly Dance Body movement—an inclusive, body-positive belly dance community that welcomes dancers of all ages, sizes (including plus-size and older women), genders, and backgrounds. It’s not about looking a certain way—it’s about expression, joy, and reconnecting with your body.

    Do you think something like that might speak to you? Or even help you—being part of a group like that?

    What you shared today about your parents really stood out to me. It sounds like, growing up, there wasn’t much space for your emotions—especially the harder ones like anger or sadness. When you tried to express hurt to your mother, she became upset and turned it back on you, calling you “overly sensitive.” That must have been incredibly frustrating. Instead of feeling heard, it sounds like you were made to feel like your feelings were the problem.

    With your father, the message seemed more subtle but still clear: emotions—especially anger—should be quickly “restored” or changed. That likely taught you that strong feelings weren’t really welcome, and that they needed to be managed or pushed aside rather than understood.

    Given all that, it makes complete sense that now, as an adult, you feel the need to keep some distance. That’s not unfair—it’s protective. You’re trying to give yourself the freedom and emotional space you didn’t have growing up. Wanting that space doesn’t mean you don’t care about your parents. It means you’re learning to care for yourself, too.

    And your anger? It’s valid. It’s not about blaming—it’s about recognizing what you needed and didn’t get. That’s part of healing. You’re not wrong for feeling it.

    I really relate to what you shared about your mother. Mine was emotionally fragile too, and often centered on her own pain. I learned to push my emotions down to avoid upsetting her. She took up a lot of space expressing her feelings, but there wasn’t any space for mine. I felt a lot, but those feelings were often criticized or dismissed. One emotion I felt strongly was empathy—for her. I had none for myself, not that I remember. All of my emotional energy went toward her. And like you, I didn’t have much agency in my life either.

    When a daughter grows up emotionally close to a mother who’s easily overwhelmed, it can lead to something called enmeshment. That’s when the emotional boundaries between you and your mother get blurred. You might feel responsible for her feelings, or like you have to protect her from your own. Over time, it becomes hard to know where she ends and you begin.

    In that kind of relationship, it’s common to:

    * Push down your feelings to avoid upsetting her

    * Feel guilty for wanting space or independence

    * Second-guess your choices, especially if they go against what she might want

    * Struggle to say “no” or to trust your own voice

    I think this is something we have in common—a history of enmeshment with our mothers, and the impact that had on our sense of agency.

    That’s why I wonder if your feelings for Philip might not just be about him, but about what he represents. Maybe he felt like a way out—a new emotional home. When someone grows up enmeshed/ emotionally trapped, it’s common to develop a fantasy that someone else will come along and understand them completely, love them unconditionally, take them away from the emotional chaos, and give them permission to be themselves

    This kind of hope is powerful, even if it’s not always conscious. And when that person pulls away or doesn’t live up to the fantasy, the grief can feel overwhelming—not just because of the breakup, but because it feels like losing the only imagined way out.

    The hard part is that this fantasy can delay the real work of separation. Instead of building agency from the inside out, the hope gets placed on someone else to “rescue” you from the emotional bind with your parents.

    But real agency doesn’t come from being chosen. It comes from choosing yourself.

    You asked about Philip’s attachment style. I honestly don’t know. But I also want to be careful here—because analyzing him might just give you more reasons to keep thinking about him. And I wonder if that’s part of what’s keeping you from turning fully toward your own healing. The more time you spend trying to understand him, the less space there is to focus on building your own sense of strength and freedom.

    I say all of this with care, and with full respect for how painful this is. You’re doing something really hard—and really important: you’re starting to separate from old patterns, speak your truth, and take your life back.

    With warmth and care, Anita

    #447402
    J.
    Participant

    Hi Anita,

    Thanks for your message. Yes, i think Philip represented a ‘shadow side’ of me, a part that I desperately want tp acknowledge, as I feel I am not living up to my power. The scary part, I feel, is taking risks, with the fear of failing and shame and rejection. I called both my parents today, after talking with my therapist. I was honest with my mum and told her that I was hurt bny how she seemed to ahift blame onto me. My father was way more straight forward with me. Saying I should not piut so much value onto his opinion, feeling like his opinion of things was holding me back, this is something I so often limited myzelf by. Today he said, you are 31, why do you still tell me this and let yourself be limited by my beliefs? It irritated me bc he used to be so opinionated. But it also woke me up. These were things my brother and Philip told me, they are older, you should not try and change them, let them be who they are and do your own things. I just feel so sad bc I have so little self esteem. I do not dare take risks, and always go for safe options. Be it in jobs, or men. This is why I let better opportunities such as higher jobs, or in my opinions, more challenging men, like Philip, go. There is a guy I am meeting onn Friday. But he seems to insecure, just like me. And I feel like I need someone like Philip, who could push me and make me live up to what I could be if I were not so insecure. I feel like again he might be too careful, too soft for me. He told me that like me, he went for easy jobs, maybe out of insecurity. Philip just went for jobs above his expertise but just bluffed. I guess that is what I need…someone who helps me along, who pushes me too, who challenges me. But it was too soon maybe, I could not see. You’re right I should not talk about him too much so I can forget. But it is so hard…he is just still so special for me. I just cannot see him as someone who ‘just’m was one of the many. It felt like such a special connection. Like yin and yang or something. He reminded me of my brother, who was also very complimentary. My god…why do you only see things afterwards? I was just so afraid I could not be enough. I guess I am so disappointed in myself. I am thinking of doing a Jung shadow work session somewhere. Maybe that helps! I hope I can find some peace about this. I am sorry to come to Philip somoften. It just feels like something I should not have let go of so soon.

    I limited contact with my parents..saying they should just keep it light…and my father seemed to be hurt by it. Maybe I should reconsider. Maybe I am afraid of nothing.

    I am thinking about doing something else with my carreer. Maybe being an artist would be great..but that is so scary bc of the money. I am painting furniture. I was thinking about doing this on the side. I am thinking about maybe teaching in primary school…

    Oh yes, enmeshment really sounds like that was there with me and my mum…she shared too much with me, about her difficulty with my father at times, her ex she still felt sorry for, for leaving him for my father (or at least, leaving him so hurt, and the fact that he was more like my mother apparently…). Thank you for the bullet points! It is good to know…I am have just opened contact with my father more, and maybe with my mum…I just need to be careful of what I want in contact. And feel where I want to draw a line…that is still tricky.

    That has been heavy for you too…no space for your emotions..did she ever listen if you were sad? Like you had to be her mum…that’s hard, feeling like your feelings did not matter. If I may ask, how come your mum was so…not open to your inner world?

    Warm wishes,
    Emma

    #447403
    J.
    Participant

    Here I meant, “why do I…” of course 🙂

    “He reminded me of my brother, who was also very complimentary. My god…why do you only see things afterwards?”

    #447415
    anita
    Participant

    Dear Emma:

    Thank you for sharing all of this so openly. Your reflections are so rich and honest—it’s clear you’re doing deep inner work, even when it feels heavy or confusing. I really admire your courage in facing these patterns head-on.

    Reading about your relationship with your mother, I felt such a strong sense of recognition. I was also deeply enmeshed with my mother growing up. She overshared with me constantly—about her pain, her regrets, her relationships—and it left me feeling like I had to be her emotional anchor, her confidante, even her therapist at times. There was no space for my own feelings. I had to grow up fast, and like you, I often felt like my inner world didn’t matter.

    So when you described your mother sharing about her ex, her struggles with your father, and how hard it is to draw boundaries now—I truly get it. That kind of emotional entanglement can shape everything: our sense of self, our ability to take risks, even the kinds of partners we’re drawn to. I’ve been there. And I want you to know: it’s possible to untangle from it. It’s possible to reclaim your space, your voice, your choices.

    Given how much we seem to share, and the healing I’ve done so far around enmeshment, I’d be honored to walk alongside you in this if it ever feels helpful. Sometimes just having someone who’s been through it makes the path feel a little less lonely.

    I also really felt your sadness around Philip. It makes sense that he felt like a mirror to a part of you you’re still trying to claim—your boldness, your power, your potential. And it’s okay to grieve that. But I also believe that the part of you that saw something in him is the same part that’s waking up now. The part that’s ready to take risks, even if it’s scary.

    Whether it’s painting furniture, teaching, or exploring shadow work—you’re already moving toward yourself. And that’s something to be proud of.

    Warm wishes, Anita

    #447422
    Panditdevsharma
    Participant

    Astrologically, the answer lies in your Venus, Moon, and 7th house placements. If transits or progressions show growth, closure, or karmic release, it may be time to let go. But if strong synastry or destiny markers remain, he could truly be the one that got away.

    #447497
    J.
    Participant

    Thak you for this, Anita! I will answer tomorrow!

    With warmth, Emma

    #447500
    anita
    Participant

    You are welcome< Emma! Looking forward to your answer tomorrow.

    🤍 Anita

    #447542
    J.
    Participant

    Thank you so much again, Anita! I have had some quite overwhelming days, dealing with my parents, the grief of the relationship, but also better things like hope for a new job and such. I had a call today with my mum, which was nice, as we had a good talk about nice things, not turning too heavy. It made me feel like she was not pressuring me, whcih was good. It does make me a bit nervous though, the bond woth my father; I talked to him too, and was honest with him: that the way he framed his opinions when we wer youg, mad eme adapt myself to his opinions. He told me taht I can always tell him these criticisms, but that he does not like therapy(which I have) bc it makes me stuck in the past according to him, and it is always better to look to the future, he says. Well, I don’t know – feels like he is avoidant too. He did wake me up though, to pick my life up again. But it worries me, how much he pushed and pushes his opinion at times. I think my mum has lost a part of herself with him…she is into sport, rock music…he has always criticized that…I believe she is unhappy at times about it…but what am I to do…
    It mad eme see that I pick similar partners as my mum I think. Philip was a critical, and I feel tried to shape me a bit too. My friend said she thought of it as a trauma bond. Both of us had issues from the past. Maybe that is why it felt soo intense with him. I could see the scared and sweet ‘boy’ inside, which i guess I also seem to see in my father. Think Philip was sort of surprised by it, saying the caring is what he actually needed. I wonder, yes maybe I choose partners that can lead, and I can depend on, but do not let me be myself cause that is scary for me too, to trust my own opinion. I have to be careful not to let my father shape me again. To not give into too much contact. That would be scary. That is so confusing: he both promotes independence in me, but also puts pressure on me to be in contact. I told him I thought he was too forceful at times, trying to puch me into contact the way he wanted. That felt good though, even though it seemed he found in nonsensical/silly of me to want to limit contact. I guess I am just not so good at keeping boundaries in the moment, so I need these more rigid boundaries like distance. Gosh, I hope I can keep them. I feel I need therapy on that, a lot. Tahnk you for offering to walk with me, that would be really nice. I feel for you too, the way you were enmeshed with her too. That there was no space for you, even though you were the child, who needed care. Do you still feel results of it, as you said, not daring to trust your own voice?

    I hope you have a great day Anita <3

    Warm wishes, Emma

    #447548
    anita
    Participant

    Dear Emma:

    You’re so welcome. Truly. Your words hold so much insight, gentleness, and strength. You’re navigating a lot—both grief and growth at the same time—and it’s clear how thoughtfully you’re walking through each piece of it.

    It sounds like your talk with your mum was a small step of warmth, and I’m glad it didn’t tip into pressure or heaviness. That kind of moment, even if brief, can mean so much. Your reflections about your father show deep awareness—how his forceful opinions shaped your early sense of self and how hard it still is to hold boundaries when contact feels loaded. You’re absolutely right: emotional distance can be necessary when boundaries in-the-moment feel hard to hold. It’s not coldness—it’s protection.

    As for Philip—yes, what you described does sound like a trauma bond. Not because either of you meant harm, but because you were both trying to meet unmet emotional needs through one another. Recognizing that intensity for what it is shows real growth. That’s how patterns begin to change.

    And this thing you said: “I choose partners that can lead… but do not let me be myself…” That awareness is everything. You’re learning to trust your own voice again, just like I’ve had to do too. The enmeshment I experienced left me confused about who I was apart from her. I still feel echoes of it sometimes—especially in moments when I doubt my instincts or feel pulled to over-explain myself. But like you, I’m slowly giving that voice the space it deserves. We’re both getting better at letting our truth rise.

    You’re not alone, Emma. We’ll walk gently, together.

    Warmest hugs, Anita 🤍

    #447556
    J.
    Participant

    Thank you, Anita, for you warm words. i have told my parents I like calling with them, but to please schedule a call beforehand as I am not so good with impromptu phoencalls – to be honest this goes mostly for them. My father did not answer but my mum responded shortly that that’s fine. I do need to find a middle with them, must say she really was warm on the phone, asking me about work, and that they can always support me financially if needed with a new course. I am going to visit a sick relative tomorrow with her, I am looking forward to seeing her, but I have to be on guard a bit. I have such difficulty with boundaries – I recently approached an old roommate who I broke contact with, because I found she was so forceful. This seems to be a pattern. She wanted to talk things over then, but I was too scared of conflict and dealing with the hurt/criticism that I fled away. We would have coffee soon, but she told me she does not have the will to make space for me, as she is too hurt for the way I broke things off in the past. I get it – but it makes me so sad to realize how often I do this – with Philip, with my parents, with others – my friend said that I should state boundaries earlier, instead of breaking things off when I have let built things up too much. I guess she is right. There wer numerous things with Philip too – his ADD and need for space and sometimes lack of communication, his critical side, the amount of times he talked about other women – I never said a thing about this, only after I had broken things off. It is just so painful how these cycles keep repeating themselves. I really wonder where things go wrong. And what is the best way to say what you need? To state your boundaries? I wonder.

    That is tough for you too, that the enmeshment with your mum make you doubt your instincts and make you over-explain yourself – it feels like there is no ground underneath your feet, right? How does that come up for you?

    I recognize this so much: needing people’s edvise all the time, the over-explaining – do you know where this over-explaining originates from? It is beautiful that you have slowly learned to trust your instincts a bit better, but I can imagine it is an ongoing process.

    Thank you for all your care and time, it means a lot 🙂
    Warmest hugs,
    Emma

    #447560
    anita
    Participant

    Dear Emma: it is Sun night here, I will read and reply Mon morning 🙂

    Anita

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