oh. well ok so i cried when you linked me up there. possibly related side note but probably not: i’ve had wines. also,
I’ve been gaslit a bunch of times. by not that many people — just repeatedly by the same people. Bc, love, or whatever I clung to that resembled it closely enough for me to stay. I have only just now been strong enough to look back and see how I stayed so long that the lines of gaslighter and lightee got murky and I am not innocent in that shadowy alley of control and care.
I think we believe ‘truths’ about who we are, maybe. And if I feel like someone is questioning my truth, I feel unseen. It gets slippery; it’s hard to love without being seen. It’s hard to trust, even if eventually what you realize on the other side is something akin to sight. I would imagine this truth issue is the same on either side? How do we ameliorate our current truth with our current passion? Shhh see I’m not helping. moar wines.