#break through

Once Uranus moves into Gemini (July 7th) I will be in my Uranus opposition! (already feeling it)

I've been working on radical self-acceptance lately and working on releasing a whole bunch of fixed beliefs that have lived inside of my head for what feels like my entire existence.

I am really excited for this next period of my life to be honest! Uranus is awakening me to realize where I hold myself back! Where I had potential all along, but I allowed trauma and fears to dictate how I acted and who I was.

This feels like an incredible healing time, and I am here for it! I may be sharing a bit more personal things, where I lacked that kind of engagement before. That is Uranus working on how I communicate already!

Truth is.... I have so much anxiety about how people may or may not respond to me, that I tend not to do it! How silly, I know! I have no control how things land with others..... I KNOW THIS, yet my fears are still very present. (Interesting info: Here I am dumping my truths, when Mercury is opposite Pluto retro.) haha.

Let’s be real—I’m forever in ‘shadow work mode.’ Because understanding my triggers, rewiring my mindset, and cutting away everything that is draining, and not supportive, is very important work. I think it is our obligation as human beings to do this! (this is my Pluto/Saturn in 8th house talking)

If you read this far, hey I appreciate you!

~Amanda~ Image by: WormVerse

Orage sur l'Artzamendi, Pyrénées Atlantiques

Dear Mom,

I need to set some very clear boundaries regarding our relationship, especially concerning how you speak about my partner. Despite my multiple warnings, you continue to talk negatively about him and try to influence me against him. I want you to understand that he is the best person I’ve ever been with—someone who brings out the best in me that nobody else ever has.

I see parts of you in me, especially when it comes to our struggles. The key difference is that I have been committed to therapy and medication since I was nine years old, and now, at almost 30, I’m still working on myself. You, on the other hand, have never sought therapy and have only taken a fraction of what I have in terms of medication.

I want to be honest: marijuana is not helping you. It exacerbates your BPD, enhancing your worst qualities. There are actual studies that indicate not all medication works for everyone, including marijuana. For the past four months, I haven’t even touched it myself.

Michael is not taking advantage of me; he has not pushed himself into my life or my home. He moved in because we both wanted to share our lives together—something I approached responsibly for the first time. He is a responsible, mature person who supports me, allowing me to feel capable. It’s disappointing that you view me as incapable and irresponsible, while I know my worth and what I bring to the table.

You need to address your erratic moods with medication, just as I do. I suggest therapy not because I think you’re “crazy,” but because I believe it could help you develop social skills, like how to communicate without resorting to name-calling or cursing, which only escalates tensions and doesn’t solve problems.

I’m trying to build my own life and family because I realize I’ve never had the support I needed from the family I was born into. I’ve worked hard to reach this point, and I had hoped to reconnect with you and my family in North Dakota. However, I now see that if I never felt like I belonged, then I won’t find that connection now.

I’m genuinely happy and at peace, doing things I never had the chance to do before, thanks to the positive support from Michael. Building a life requires a support system that believes in you, something I feel is missing from our relationship. A lesson I’ve learned in therapy is that conflict resolution starts with understanding each other’s perspectives, not trying to place blame or prove who is right or wrong.

This difference between us—my commitment to mental health and your refusal to seek help—has led me to back away. I need to distance myself from you, not out of desire, but out of necessity. I’m going to continue living my happy life with Michael, and I’m sad you haven’t taken the opportunity to get to know him. He truly respects me and supports my happiness.

I cannot tolerate being treated like a child or being made to feel inadequate any longer. I’m aware that you see the boys as adults because of their progress, but your perception of me feels stuck, overshadowed by how you view my life through a screen. It’s painful, and I hope you realize your role in that.

I love you, but I can’t allow you to undermine the happiness I’ve found—a happiness that has helped me grow and love myself for the first time. Your words have often made me feel stupid and inadequate, and that’s something I can no longer accept.

I expect that my message will be met with defensiveness, but I need you to take accountability. You’ve chosen not to seek help, while I’m striving to be better every day. Your journey is yours, but I need to focus on mine now. I won’t respond to your messages or phone calls, and I’m stepping back from social media. I’m choosing emotional intelligence for the sake of my peace.

What I want from you is love, and it shouldn’t come with a price tag. I doubt I’ll receive that, but I will still wish you well. Merry Christmas, happy New Year, happy birthday, and all the holidays I’ll miss. This isn’t a choice I wanted to make, but it’s one I need to.

Goodbye, Mom. 🤟

As you might expect, she didn’t receive my text very well… So, in closing, I’m putting my relationship with my mom to rest—for my peace, comfort, and love. ❤️

Navigating the Complexities of My Relationship with My Mother

The relationship between a mother and daughter can often be a beautiful bond, but mine has been a complicated tapestry woven with threads of pain, misunderstanding, and growth. That little girl inside me still exists, a ghost from a time when things with my mom were far from good. She almost had me fooled, weaving a narrative that I was nothing without her, but after everything she put me through, I’ve discovered a strength within myself that I never knew existed.

From a young age, I found myself fighting for a place in my mother’s world, striving to meet expectations that seemed to shift with the changing winds. No matter how much I worked or how desperately I sought acceptance, I felt like I was always falling short. It was an emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual battle that consumed much of my childhood and adult life whenever we interacted. It might not have been all-consuming at once, but as a collective experience, it truly sucked. She brought the flames and put me through hell, teaching me the hard way that I had to learn to fight for myself. And deep down, I think she knows it too. We both know the truths that could be told, but instead, I’ll simply say, “I wish you farewell.”

I can make it on my own now. I’ve learned that I don’t need her in my life; I’ve found a newfound strength that’s empowering. For years, I was the one forgiving her, often without ever hearing an apology in return or seeing any accountability for her actions. It’s astonishing to think that I’ve never witnessed her say sorry to any of my siblings or even to my dad. From the age of nine, she placed me in therapy, and now at 28, I realize the irony. I’ve perfected the art of communication, taking accountability and truly meaning it each time I’ve said I was sorry. Yet, it’s disheartening to realize that while I’ve worked on conflict resolution, she seems to play the role of the menacing, abusive mother with no intention of changing.

She has this uncanny ability to shift blame onto everyone else once things go wrong, ignoring her part in all of it. When it’s clear she’s at fault, she pretends as though it never happened the next day, expecting us to move on as if nothing is amiss. Yet, she holds onto others’ wrongdoings that affect her like a badge of honor, despite her own history of mistakes. I often wonder if she ever forgives herself. If she does, it truly disappoints me.

If I could tell her one thing, it would be this: “He is good, so good. He treats your little girl like a real man should. He makes promises he keeps.” I want her to understand that I’m okay, and that when I watch my baby grow up, I hope she finds the kind of man I’ve found—loving, respectful, gentle, and kind. My partner reminds me of my dad—the morals and values he holds bring me back to the essence of home. If only my mother weren’t so stuck in the past, unable to see that I’ve learned from my mistakes and found someone worthy of my heart.

But the reality is, I can’t get through to her. I never could as a child, and I doubt I’ll be able to as an adult, not without her committing to medication, therapy, and applying what she’s learned. Sadly, it seems she wouldn’t even entertain that notion. In order for me to build the family I’ve always wanted for myself, I’ve had to let go of her. I still visit the memories of our past, but everyone has to grow up.

It pains me to admit that I had to cut her off. She was my first best friend, and for most of my life, I viewed her as the most important person to me. But now, at the age of 28, I’m finally awakening to the truth: “Huh, we are not that close.” The other day, I almost reached for my phone to chit-chat with her, only to remember the reality of our relationship. I set the phone down and sat in silence for a while. I would rather hear nothing than face the hurtful words she’s hurled at me over the years—words no mother should ever say to her daughter.

In conclusion, my relationship with my mother is a complicated one, and while I mourn the bond we could have had, I’m also grateful for the strength I've discovered through the struggles. I’m moving forward and building a life where I can thrive, free from the shadows of a tumultuous past. And for that little girl who still lives inside me, I promise to protect her fiercely from the flames that once consumed us both.

In closing, I want to reflect on the happiness I’ve found with my partner. Despite the attempts to push a negative narrative onto my shoulders, I’ve realized that it’s not the story I’m living. I’m living a life filled with joy, love, and support—something I never thought I could have. I feel incredibly blessed to have my partner by my side, who nurtures my growth and embraces me for who I truly am. Together, we’re building a beautiful future, and I’m grateful every day for the love we share. Here’s to celebrating the life we’re creating together and leaving behind the negativity that no longer serves me!