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LeNae Goolsby, JD

Dear Belle

Fear of anything only serves to bring it into fruition.



I went to check the mail today and I discovered two boxes with my name written on them with a bold black marker.


Peering closer I discovered that they had been dropped off at the door of the complex by my daughter. Things of mine she had borrowed now returned, because she’s as angry at me as I am with her, actually. I’ve been so angry and disappointed with her that I have been unable to reach out to her to talk because I know I would take a hot situation and make it worse. So I’ve been waiting to get to that space where my perception is clearer and not filtered by all of the emotions that are licking their wounds and arguing for all of the reasons they are right.


Staring the boxes, it looks like she has just written me off as a horrible mother. That seems to be confirmed by her having blocked me from FaceBook and Instagram.


Sigh.


Recently, a life coach, of sorts, asked me what I was afraid of. I didn’t know how to respond in that moment – I don’t spend much time worrying about things and focusing on fear is a waste of energy. Menopause and spiders is my general stock response. I’m not afraid of death (I’m an infinite being in a body, after all), but all the horrible and painful ways I could leave this life kind of freaks me out.


What do I fear? This moment, right now. This is what I have been afraid of for 26 years. That my daughter would disconnect from me the way I chose to disconnect from my mother.

My friends who have children assured me that my response with my daughter was appropriate – that all children (especially adult children) need to learn how to be accountable for their actions and behaviors, even if it is a hard lesson to allow.

I guess.


I could have handled myself in a more refined manner, but I didn’t, so there’s that.

I hope one day that she too will be able to reach that space where her perception is clearer and not also filtered by all of the offenses and self-justifications.


I hope that even if she hurt and angry with me that somewhere deep inside she knows that I love her, that I see her as a powerful, strong woman with the capacity to be great at whatever she decides to pursue.


That her self-respect, value and worth are so much more than what she honoring for herself and requiring from others – regardless of anything that happened in all of the yesterdays.

That there is a hole in my heart and all I want to do is hug her tight…

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