The bedrock was laid long before I was born. My mother experienced trauma as child. Her mother was bipolar. And I am certain my mother is autistic. My whole life I worked very hard on forgiving her and understand/empathize with her perspective because of her history and limitations. But it was a one way street - her history of trauma and autism made it very difficult for her to empathize with me. She could sometimes be caring but mostly she was distant and rule oriented and often cruel - though without meaning to be or even knowing it. She constantly projected her traumatic relationship with her mother onto me. So I had a lot of cognitive and emotional dissonance as a child.

A lot of bad things happened, and eventually I cut off all contact with her. She blamed me and decided despite my academic and professional achievements, I was the black sheep. Every time I tried to reconnect she ended up attacking me. Why would I try? Because I understood that it was not her "fault" - she truly did not understand or empathize because of her history and disability. But it just got too painful for me.

Eventually she suggested that we try a therapist. So we did - we each saw her separately once and then once together. After we saw her together, my mother said some of the worst things she has ever said to me. I will never forget them. She then refused to see the therapist with me again. The therapist reached out to me and said that my mom's social and emotional processing was not "normal" and that I was being gaslighted.

After about a year passed and the pain of the last attack faded somewhat, I started texting with my mom, maybe once every month. Then one day in the COVID lockdown, I called. I could not bear to think that she could die with this between us. I knew that I could never work it out with her. She will never understand my point of view and will never apologize, and I have to stop hoping for that. I either have to let her go completely or I have to accept her as she is and accept the terrible things that happened in our past. I chose the latter. It was a lot of hard work but worth it.

In the summer, I had a socially distant visit with my parents. They were on their best behaviour and I made sure that we talked about things only generally. But this distant relationship with these boundaries feels good. My mom is responsible for her actions but they are not her "fault”. I later contacted the therapist to tell her how she had helped change my life completely. Once and objective, outside person said, "It's not you; it's her, and it's not really her fault either," I felt deeply affirmed and healed.