“I wanted to say something: “I’m sorry,” or perhaps “fuck you.” I wanted to say, “I let you in and you abused that position of trust.” But no no no. I wanted to say, “kiss me please please, we can forget everything.” Or maybe, maybe I just wanted to say, “I forgive you. You’re not sorry but I still forgive you.”
— S.Z. // Excerpt from a book I’ll never write#262
Daughters really do share deep rooted emotional trauma with/inherit deep rooted emotional trauma from their mothers and I know it’s true bc whenever I try to approach a sensitive topic with my mom, no matter how calm and civil and patient I intend to be no matter how much I’ve practiced what I want to say no matter how OK I was even a moment before, I always involuntarily burst into desperate, angry hysterics the moment I open my mouth. As though it’s coming from a place buried so far within me I cannot even register its existence until it has overtaken me. And I know I’m not alone on this either. There is so much we internalize from our mothers that we never learn to contend with. That we never even learn to recognize
