After a deep session with my master, where we were unpacking my life patterns around family, relationships, and how I have been spending my resources to support other people’s illusions, reality responded instantly! In couple of hours... before I even finished writing my yesterday's post! Without a pause... As if the system I had been living in decided to test me: “Did you really understand this, or did you just talk about it beautifully?”

A decision was made behind my back. Despite my direct and clear refusal. A scandal began. Accusations. Defense. Pressure. A night when no one slept. And then came the words that didn’t just hurt... they laid everything bare: “If you don’t do what you’re told, you’ll end up alone.”

Before I would consider it as a threat and I would do anything to get rid of this negative feeling.... But today I saw that this was not a threat in the usual sense. It was fear passed down through generations. The fear of an entire lineage in which love equaled obedience, belonging equaled submission, and care equaled mandatory self-sacrifice. I listened as I was told that I had been raised the same way they were raised: to respect elders, to obey, not to argue, to do “what is right,” to show care for relatives at any cost. To show care that was the key word. and most importantly, the theme "theater" was the main focus of my inner work with my teacher.  And at one moment it was said directly, even though I doubt anyone else picked it up, just  because the conversation was very emotional: "I always had to show that I cared about my family." I always had to show... This is exactly what I wrote yesterday... about the theater to continue the play. 

And in that moment, I saw not someone attacking me. I saw guilt and it wasn't mine. Deep, long-standing, unbearable guilt. I saw how a person can live their entire life performing a role, meeting expectations, holding up the façade of a “good family,” without ever touching their own truth. A theater of care. A theater of correctness. A theater of duty.

I suddenly realized that before, the someone else's guilt had lived inside me. I was the one who tried to cover it up with actions, concessions, resources, endurance. But this time the guilt became visible where it actually belonged. And that was painful and deeply liberating. 

For the first time, very calmly and very clearly, I separated what had long been confused.  Parents and children are one thing. Brother and sister are another. Love is not the redistribution of resources until self-destruction. A family is not a dormitory where everyone owes everyone everything all the time. You do not gift your wealth to a sibling if you have your own children. Why you don't and I have to? I will not be a mother to my brother. I will be his sister.  There is no rejection in this. There is respect. I see his strength. I relate to him as an equal. We were given equal rights at birth. I do not see him as weaker or beneath me. On the contrary... he matters to me. He is the first man in our family system after my father. And I will no longer replace someone else’s responsibility with my own, because that destroys both him and me. 

And here came one of the strongest realizations of all. I was told that if I did not do what I was told, if I stepped out of this performance role, if I stopped obeying, I would be alone. And suddenly I clearly felt that serving and pleasing is loneliness itself. The very person who was teaching me to show care for family lives alone... he is lonely... Doing everything for everyone.  Do I want to follow this example? Sacrificing myself, my resources, my life, my family? And at the same time feeling like an object? Disrespected, unheard, unseen...  I had already been alone. Exactly there. In the role of the good, convenient, patient one... and lonely... 

After that, there was a conversation with my mother. Completely different. Without pressure. Without roles. Without the need to be strong. For the first time, I said out loud what I had even hidden from myself. That my endless patience and constant doing were not virtues, but a way to earn love and approval. That I was scared. That I was exhausted. That I didn’t know what to do. That I had no strength left. That I was unhappy.  And the world did not collapse. No one corrected me. No one lectured me. No one shamed me. I was simply held. My mother held me while I cried like a little girl. And there was more healing in that moment than in all my attempts to be adult, reasonable, and strong. In that moment, my body remembered something it had long forgotten: love does not need to be earned. Closeness does not arise from duty. Care does not require self-destruction or a show... 

That conversation became a turning point not only for me. I saw how healing began for everyone. Without accusations. Without winners or losers. Simply because the truth was spoken. I spoke MY truth. I did it exacly from the position of holding a difficult space and not giving in to fear. My father even accused me that he waited until very late that I would change my mind and change my decision. No. I said "no"... and I asked to respect my "no". 

I also realized that for many years no one knew that behind my “reliability” and “patience” was a fear of being rejected. That my readiness to do everything was not strength, but an attempt to hold on to connection at any cost. And when I named this, the women around me saw me differently. Not as a function. Not as a pillar. But as someone alive.

Today I clearly understand: my path is not the path of performative care. I will not pretend to love. I will only do what is truly within my capacity, without destroying myself. I do not have to prove my worth through sacrifice. I do not have to be convenient to be loved.

Stopping being convenient is frightening. Because the old system scares you with loneliness. But the truth is that loneliness does not begin when you say “no.” It begins when you keep saying “yes” against yourself. My father was right, you become bankrupt inside your soul first... How do you get there? I didn't go into the lengthy explanation...  

From this moment on, much has become clear for me. My resources are not infinite. My presence is not a tool for someone else’s growth. My care is not theater either. My love is not sacrifice.  I no longer carry other people’s illusions on my shoulders.... I choose honesty and I chose honestly today. And this is where true healing begins...  mine, and that of my lineage.