4/23/2026
Hello. My husband and I have been in this course since early March. This is bound to be long because I’ve been planning to write this post for quite some time, and now I have more to report. OK—here goes, and, believe me, this is mighty uncomfortable. I have had four or five major breakthroughs in the past few weeks.
Catherine’s questions bring me back to years—decades--of therapy, group counseling, neurolinguistic work, positive psychology training, intuition training, Reiki healing, and everything else I’ve done. I have examined past trauma, starting in childhood, and including generational trauma, as well as communication and behavior patterns I’ve developed throughout the years (including early marriage and divorce—this is my 2nd marriage), and relationships with both healthy and unhealthy people.
What I should do is go back and review notes and journals. I’m remembering snippets from past years when my oldest daughter said, “The closer you want to be, the farther away we’ll go” (or something to that effect), “You are too clingy and needy,” “you don’t respect boundaries,” “I’m very private and you tell people my business.” There is more: “When I was 11, you did this/you said that. . . .”
I rarely understood any of that. Of course, I got defensive and then “took it personally,” and that’s what she got stuck on: “You take everything personally.” (And how else would I take it?) I’d even say, “OK, I was a bad mother. So sorry.” (And then cry.) (This came from one daughter—not the other—our oldest, who is now 41.) I just thought it was an odd reaction to my expressing interest in her life and wanting to share. I could never hear this as anything but her pushing me away and criticizing. I felt she was mean and cruel.
She has never apologized to me once in her life. (Catherine enlightened me by saying that people who are “perfectionists” cannot apologize. I understand that now, and she IS a perfectionist. Also, I only now understand parts of her life in the past 6-8 years, living with an alcoholic, dysfunctional husband and father of her son/our grandson; he could not hold a job, she brought in the money by working full-time AND operating her own business, driving long distances for work, working nonstop in a very demanding job (with mentally ill criminals), not sleeping. Our grandson would call us at midnight, sobbing and scared. . . . I see now that she was in survival mode. We didn’t even know about the alcoholism—she didn’t tell us—we just knew he was impossible and miserable to us—until shortly before he died last year.
I would have said she just plain did not like me. Until recently, she’s been crabby, non-communicative, out of touch, talks to others with her back to me, doesn’t reply to texts. For decades. I am mostly hurt and feel rejected when I’m with her. I do not seek her out or do anything with her alone and she doesn’t seek me out, either. I have even told her I feel abused and bullied by her. She doesn’t miss a beat. She lives ½ hour away, so distance is not an issue.
I have let her be an albatross around my neck every day, all day. My husband doesn’t feel this way. He doesn’t put up with it, for one thing, and she doesn’t direct any of her ire toward him, anyway. It dawned on me that I got to the point recently that I have felt relieved when I don’t interact with her or think about her on a daily basis. (It reminds me that—many decades ago, when I divorced, I began to enjoy living alone and certainly “wasn’t desperate” to meet a man. When I was not desperate and lonely was when I started meeting men and then dating again, and then met my now-husband of 44 years--and the father of my two daughters.) I wasn’t “needy.” Similarly, I don’t feel needy for her now, although I’ve been so hurt. I’m 76—almost 77. I told my husband, “What if I only live another 10-12 years? I don’t want those last years to be on bad terms with my daughter.”
Several big things have happened recently, and, to me, they are breakthroughs, as a result of participating in this course: (a) I just got our of the group meeting with Tracey (Thurs., April 23, 2026, 10:00-11:00 central). In the middle of our conversation about trauma, a lightbulb went on. I posted in the Chat, “OMG, this is the first moment I’ve really understood why/how my daughter has felt that I’ve not listened to her about her unhappiness about childhood incidents. I felt so defensive, I really didn’t acknowledge. I get it now. This brings me to tears. Why did it take me so long?” I probably never acknowledged her pain because I was too busy feeling bad about it and defending myself. Of course she wouldn’t feel listened to, and then she would tell me over and over, and then “go away.”
(b) I understand something new and important with Catherine’s pointing out that perfectionists don’t apologize (they have to be right) (that describes our daughter and I’m a recovering perfectionist). (c) I came to realize that she has been in survival mode for a variety of reasons; I hadn’t known that for years. That keeps people from reaching out to others with interest and curiosity. (d) Some months ago, my daughter and I found ourselves alone in a restaurant after others had left; she, once again—repeating herself--told me two instances in which she felt I had violated her privacy (long story—I do not believe I did at all). I said nothing except, “I understand, thank you for telling me. OK. I get it.” Period. At the end, she said, “That helps.” I did not argue or react, for once.
(g) Recently, she called to speak to both my husband and me with a concern about an interaction between her son and another grandson (our other daughter’s child). We listened listened listened, understood, did not react, responded, agreed to a change, made no judgments, carried on with love for the grandchildren. That felt new.
(h) And here is the pièce de résistance: On Easter Sunday, we invited our whole family over to celebrate Easter and Spring—that’s two daughters, their partners, and 3 grandsons (ages 22 mos., 5-1/2, 12). We dyed Easter eggs, had a basket hunt, had an egg hunt (plastic ones with jelly beans and money inside), created a Peeps diorama, and enjoyed a fabulous dinner. At an appropriate time (kids’ bedtime), everyone left EXCEPT this daughter, her son, and her new partner. This is the FIRST time I can ever remember her staying to hang out and visit. After a relaxed visit with no agenda and pleasant conversation, they decided it was time to leave. I said, “It is lovely to have a change to relax and talk with you. He (Steve) said, “Of COURSE.” I thought I’d died and gone to Heaven. It’s taken me this amount of time to process this. I asked my husband Michael why he thought things were different that day, and he said, “Maybe because we listened!”
Thanks for reading this far. Wendy