Girl. I felt like I was literally side by side with you reading this. Super brave. Extremely beautiful. Unbelievably profound. Bold. Big! You are amazing. Xo mb 🧡
Wow! Michelle🫶🏻 🥹you’ve no idea how much your words mean today. You made me feel so seen in this messy, brave telling. Thank you for standing beside me in it. Here’s to us writing the bold, big truths we once swallowed. 🤗💛🙏
I re-read this and bawled like a baby. I took a 3 hour nap at my dad’s and woke up after some time spent with him and re read your story. I suppose because it resonates with me so much. We give so much of ourselves and sometimes it’s not reciprocated. I don’t care about that as much as I feel I like I want to hug you. Like really long and hard. 🤍 I could go on. But I won’t.
M, you re-reading means the world. That long, wordless hug? I felt it. This is exactly why I wrote it for us givers who were never fully held. 🤍 So grateful for you. 🤗💛🥰
Thank you so much for reading and feeling with me. That longing runs deep, doesn’t it? It’s the quiet ache we carry and the reason I write is to give shape to what was never said out loud. Grateful to have you here in the HSP Sanctuary where we turn longing into language and healing into connection. I appreciate you taking the time to read and restack. I am forever grateful 🥹🤗💛🙏
I was thinking while reading this, «oh, but she can be her own mother now», the adult who takes care of that wounded inner child. But then you said it as well ☺️
Astrid your words feel like a warm nod across the room. Thanks for your support. Yes, being our own mother now I agree too, that’s the tender, messy magic of it all. I’m so glad we’re learning it side by side. 💛😘🤗
Thank you for holding my story so gently and more importantly for letting it mirror your own, Anni. It reminds me we’re not alone with this ache. We’re mothering each other here, one truth at a time. I’m so grateful for you, truly. 💛🤗🥰
I'm so sorry for little Sly going through this. What you described, is so close to my 22 years of marriage. I was always too much, always unseen. But that kind of love coming from a parent feels worse. I can move on, I can stop loving him. But how do you do that with a parent? it's so much more complex. And now I'm thinking of my kids, how his love is conditional with them too. And how proud I am for them to set their boundaries, and not bending themselves to fit his requirements. For them to set clear boundaries, and telling him that unless he changes, they have no reason to try to reconnect. And his choice, to give up and declare they don't love him, and just cut himself off from all communication. What hurts is the disappointment, I thought he was a bigger person than that. But again, maybe he never was, maybe I was the one doing all the smoothing and emotional labour in between, and pretending it was working. Maybe my kids have things more clearly for years, while I was blinded by love. And that comes back to your relationship - how nice of your spouse to hold that space for you. To understand and be there for you exactly how you need it. It makes such a huge difference... XoXo
I feel every word you shared,Kadri. Your heartbreak, your hope for your kids, that deep ache of loving someone who could never love you back the way you needed? I see you. I’ve carried that same disappointment with my mother. Loving someone so broken they can’t hold your softness, no matter how small you make yourself. Your kids’ boundaries show how far you’ve come though, you’ve given them a gift you didn’t get. Btw, I took know that ache of smoothing things over, pretending it’s working, only to wake up to the truth. You’re not alone in this. Thank you for trusting me with your story.🥹🙏you know, this is exactly why I wrote my mother piece, so none of us have to hold these messy, sacred stories by ourselves. 💛
Sly, thank you for opening up your own wounds to help others name theirs. This was beautiful and deep. Your words beautifully paint the truth of a parent who hasn’t healed and the child who is making sense of the reality you lived.
This line “The silence isn't empty, it's full” caught me. I pray you keep giving yourself the love you and little Sly deserve and find peace in your own life to heal those parts. Thank you for creating a place and giving permission for feelings we don’t always make space for.
Thank you for seeing the child and the grown woman in me, both are learning to hold the silence that’s never empty. I’m so grateful you’re here Marya, in this little sanctuary where we get to name what we couldn’t before. I feel that’s the real healing when we do it together. 💛
It has taken me a few years and a little bit of therapy, but I no longer hunger for the parents who didn’t parent. Or for their replacements.
I’ve begun to identify more with the gift than the wound at this point. But I continue to see the way these formative patterns show up. It’s like peeling an onion! 💕
Peeling an onion is exactly it,Leo. You hit the nail on the head on this one. I feel every layer you described. I’m learning to taste the gift more than the wound too even when my eyes still water🥹. Here’s to the sweet sting of becoming our own steady root. 💛
First of all, I'm so happy that you have what sounds like a wonderful partner. 💓 Second, this so resonates with me. Every time I'm still and undistracted, I'm flooded by grief over my mom. She's still alive, but I haven't talked to her in a long time. I did everything I could think of to get her to care, but nothing worked. Thank you for writing this. 🥹
The way grief rushes in when the world finally goes quiet. That kind of mother-wound grief? It doesn’t wait for death. It lingers in the silence, in the space where care should have lived. Moorea yes…my partner John has been my safe landing, but I know that ache of trying everything to make her care. Of carrying the conversation, the hope, the heartbreak until the weight just became too much.
I’m so honored this post found you. You’re not alone in that “she’s still alive but feels so far” space. That’s exactly why the HSP Sanctuary exists to hold what our families couldn’t. Sending you so much tenderness as you sit with what’s true.
You’re doing the deep healing work just by telling your story. Thank you for sharing this tender moment with me. 🥰🤗💛
Girl. I felt like I was literally side by side with you reading this. Super brave. Extremely beautiful. Unbelievably profound. Bold. Big! You are amazing. Xo mb 🧡
Wow! Michelle🫶🏻 🥹you’ve no idea how much your words mean today. You made me feel so seen in this messy, brave telling. Thank you for standing beside me in it. Here’s to us writing the bold, big truths we once swallowed. 🤗💛🙏
I’m still standing beside you. Or sitting by you. 🫶🏻 you are so welcome. Eeeeek
I re-read this and bawled like a baby. I took a 3 hour nap at my dad’s and woke up after some time spent with him and re read your story. I suppose because it resonates with me so much. We give so much of ourselves and sometimes it’s not reciprocated. I don’t care about that as much as I feel I like I want to hug you. Like really long and hard. 🤍 I could go on. But I won’t.
M, you re-reading means the world. That long, wordless hug? I felt it. This is exactly why I wrote it for us givers who were never fully held. 🤍 So grateful for you. 🤗💛🥰
Thanks for sharing Sly. I can feel the longing in this post and know a lot of people will resonate with this x
Thank you so much for reading and feeling with me. That longing runs deep, doesn’t it? It’s the quiet ache we carry and the reason I write is to give shape to what was never said out loud. Grateful to have you here in the HSP Sanctuary where we turn longing into language and healing into connection. I appreciate you taking the time to read and restack. I am forever grateful 🥹🤗💛🙏
You writing is so alive, Sly ❤️
I was thinking while reading this, «oh, but she can be her own mother now», the adult who takes care of that wounded inner child. But then you said it as well ☺️
Learning this for myself has done wonders ❤️
Astrid your words feel like a warm nod across the room. Thanks for your support. Yes, being our own mother now I agree too, that’s the tender, messy magic of it all. I’m so glad we’re learning it side by side. 💛😘🤗
Sly.
Wow.
I wish I could hug you. You have put so much of my own experience into beautiful prose.
Thank you for this.
💖
Thank you for holding my story so gently and more importantly for letting it mirror your own, Anni. It reminds me we’re not alone with this ache. We’re mothering each other here, one truth at a time. I’m so grateful for you, truly. 💛🤗🥰
I'm so sorry for little Sly going through this. What you described, is so close to my 22 years of marriage. I was always too much, always unseen. But that kind of love coming from a parent feels worse. I can move on, I can stop loving him. But how do you do that with a parent? it's so much more complex. And now I'm thinking of my kids, how his love is conditional with them too. And how proud I am for them to set their boundaries, and not bending themselves to fit his requirements. For them to set clear boundaries, and telling him that unless he changes, they have no reason to try to reconnect. And his choice, to give up and declare they don't love him, and just cut himself off from all communication. What hurts is the disappointment, I thought he was a bigger person than that. But again, maybe he never was, maybe I was the one doing all the smoothing and emotional labour in between, and pretending it was working. Maybe my kids have things more clearly for years, while I was blinded by love. And that comes back to your relationship - how nice of your spouse to hold that space for you. To understand and be there for you exactly how you need it. It makes such a huge difference... XoXo
I feel every word you shared,Kadri. Your heartbreak, your hope for your kids, that deep ache of loving someone who could never love you back the way you needed? I see you. I’ve carried that same disappointment with my mother. Loving someone so broken they can’t hold your softness, no matter how small you make yourself. Your kids’ boundaries show how far you’ve come though, you’ve given them a gift you didn’t get. Btw, I took know that ache of smoothing things over, pretending it’s working, only to wake up to the truth. You’re not alone in this. Thank you for trusting me with your story.🥹🙏you know, this is exactly why I wrote my mother piece, so none of us have to hold these messy, sacred stories by ourselves. 💛
Sly, thank you for opening up your own wounds to help others name theirs. This was beautiful and deep. Your words beautifully paint the truth of a parent who hasn’t healed and the child who is making sense of the reality you lived.
This line “The silence isn't empty, it's full” caught me. I pray you keep giving yourself the love you and little Sly deserve and find peace in your own life to heal those parts. Thank you for creating a place and giving permission for feelings we don’t always make space for.
Thank you for seeing the child and the grown woman in me, both are learning to hold the silence that’s never empty. I’m so grateful you’re here Marya, in this little sanctuary where we get to name what we couldn’t before. I feel that’s the real healing when we do it together. 💛
It has taken me a few years and a little bit of therapy, but I no longer hunger for the parents who didn’t parent. Or for their replacements.
I’ve begun to identify more with the gift than the wound at this point. But I continue to see the way these formative patterns show up. It’s like peeling an onion! 💕
Peeling an onion is exactly it,Leo. You hit the nail on the head on this one. I feel every layer you described. I’m learning to taste the gift more than the wound too even when my eyes still water🥹. Here’s to the sweet sting of becoming our own steady root. 💛
First of all, I'm so happy that you have what sounds like a wonderful partner. 💓 Second, this so resonates with me. Every time I'm still and undistracted, I'm flooded by grief over my mom. She's still alive, but I haven't talked to her in a long time. I did everything I could think of to get her to care, but nothing worked. Thank you for writing this. 🥹
The way grief rushes in when the world finally goes quiet. That kind of mother-wound grief? It doesn’t wait for death. It lingers in the silence, in the space where care should have lived. Moorea yes…my partner John has been my safe landing, but I know that ache of trying everything to make her care. Of carrying the conversation, the hope, the heartbreak until the weight just became too much.
I’m so honored this post found you. You’re not alone in that “she’s still alive but feels so far” space. That’s exactly why the HSP Sanctuary exists to hold what our families couldn’t. Sending you so much tenderness as you sit with what’s true.
You’re doing the deep healing work just by telling your story. Thank you for sharing this tender moment with me. 🥰🤗💛
I completely understand this. Thank you. Wishing you a beautiful day.
Thank you for reading and sitting with me on this one Elizabeth. It means more than you know. Wishing you a beautiful Friday too.💛