When There's Nothing Left to Repair

I used to think there was something wrong with me for not wanting a relationship with parts of my family. But I’m starting to see it differently now.

If a relationship is built on survival — not love, not connection — then once the need for survival ends, so does the relationship. There’s no solid foundation to go back to. There’s no mutual care to draw on. There’s nothing to repair.

I think I was the shame holder in my family. The one they projected onto so they wouldn’t have to face what they didn’t want to see in themselves. And when I reflect on my mother, I realise that she created an image to cover the part of her she hated. Rather than changing it, she just projected it.

Maybe she tried so hard to earn her father’s love that she became who she thought he wanted — masculine, dominant, cold. And somewhere along the way, she lost access to her own tenderness. She couldn’t be soft with herself, so she couldn’t be soft with me.