by KCLAnderson | Feb 1, 2019 | Awareness, Empowerment, Mother-daughter relationship, Relationships, The Wisdom of Others
[I AM NOT DOING MY JOB if anyone who reads my books/columns/newsletter believes that they have to wait for someone to die in order to feel better (and I make this distinction…it’s okay if you want to wait, but you don’t HAVE to wait)] Question from...
by KCLAnderson | Jul 26, 2018 | Awareness, Emotions, Re-mothering, Relationships, Self-Acceptance, Uncategorized
[This post falls into the categories of “self acceptance through storytelling” and “examining the ways in which we are like our mothers.” I have written a time or two about how when we resist being like our...
by KCLAnderson | Jul 13, 2018 | Awareness, Emotions, Feminism, Generational patterns, Mother-daughter relationship, narcissism, Relationships, The Wisdom of Others, Trauma
Just now I was reading a novel in which one character (let’s call her Ann) says to another (let’s call her Zoe), “There’s no need to feel embarrassed.” Ostensibly, Ann wants Zoe to feel better. She doesn’t want Zoe to feel...
by KCLAnderson | Jun 29, 2018 | Awareness, Feminism, Generational patterns, Mother-daughter relationship, Re-mothering, Relationships
A question from a reader: My adult daughter, with whom I was very close, has told me that she no longer wants to be in contact with me. I am devastated, not only because she and I were in contact so often, but because I can no longer see my grandchildren. After...
by KCLAnderson | May 3, 2018 | Awareness, Feminism, Generational patterns, Mother-daughter relationship, Relationships, Shadow, The Wisdom of Others
How I define the verb “heal”* = to transform a wound from being a source of pain and suffering into a source of creativity and wisdom. More and more I am struck by the micro and macro: micro :: one adult daughter struggling in her life because she has...
by KCLAnderson | Apr 24, 2018 | Anger, Awareness, Boundaries, Emotions, Feminism, Mother Wound, Mother-daughter relationship, Relationships, The Wisdom of Others, Trauma
I’m sitting alone at the table in our small dining room in Trumbull, CT. My mother is in the kitchen and my stepfather is standing in the doorway watching me. On my plate is a pile of cold lima beans congealed with margarine. I had ruined our dinner because I...
