Mother’s Day. Not exactly my favorite holiday. I spend most of the time wondering if I’ll hear from my son – will he text, call even? Most years now, I mostly receive a nod in the form of a brief text, which is fine, but a bit underwhelming.
I recently had a session with a wonderful therapist. After telling her more of my ‘story’ from the past, she helped me understand something profoundly important for my recovery: I was a better mother than I have given myself credit for. I was a kind, sensitive, supportive mother. I loved my child with my whole heart and soul.
For many, many years, I have tortured myself with guilt. When the estrangement started, I felt even more guilt. My son was forming a very different picture of his childhood under the relentless, negative spin that his wife put on it. She has her…
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