Linda Kalman MA, MSW

11/27/2025

Thank you😜

10/13/2025

I know this is taboo, but not all estranged adults miss their parents or regret the estrangement when their parents pass away. In fact, for many, the relationship was so toxic, so fundamentally damaging, that stepping away was not just a choice—it was a necessary act of self-preservation. These adults have often carried the weight of emotional abuse, neglect, manipulation, or outright harm for years, sometimes decades, and the decision to sever ties was a way to reclaim their own lives, their sanity, and their sense of self.

They have already grieved the loss of the parent they wished they had while that parent was still alive. They mourn not the actual person, but the endless “what ifs”—the small, fragile hope that things could have been different, that love could have been genuine, that respect and care might have existed. They miss the idea of a parent, the potential of what could have been, but they do not miss the reality of what was—the cruelty, the disappointment, the repeated betrayals.

Sometimes, when these parents die, estranged adults feel something unexpected: relief. Relief that they no longer have to navigate toxic interactions, relief that they are free from the emotional chains that bound them, relief that they can fully live their own lives without fear of manipulation, guilt, or judgment. This relief is not callousness; it is the recognition that preserving one’s mental and emotional health often requires boundaries that society struggles to understand.

Estrangement is often misunderstood. Outsiders see it as abandonment, as unforgiveness, as a moral failing, but for those who have lived it, it is survival. It is the courageous act of protecting oneself when love was absent, when harm was constant, and when the healthiest choice is to let go. Mourning the parent who was never truly there, yet being at peace with the distance, is a quiet, complicated, and profoundly human truth.

10/10/2025

08/29/2025

Linda.j.kalman@gmail.com

07/30/2025

Linda.j.kalman@gmail.com
Verified by Psychology Today

06/16/2025

Linda.j.kalman@gmail.com
Verified by Psychology Today

That flinch when a door slams? The way your breath still hitches at raised voices, even decades later? Your nervous system isn’t stuck, it’s vigilantly protecting the child who learnt danger wore a mother’s face. Age is a number in a diary your body never read. It only knows the years spent deciphering love as conditional, safety as fleeting, and trust as a liability.

This isn’t “falling behind.” It’s rewiring an entire ecosystem built on fault lines. Every time you prioritise rest over productivity, every boundary that steadies your pulse, every meal eaten without guilt, these aren’t small acts. They’re revolutions in a system trained to believe survival meant shrinking. That hypervigilance scanning for threats? Redirect it. Let it marvel at sunsets instead of landmines, savour silence instead of bracing for storms. Let it learn that a ringing phone can be a friend, not a gr***de.

Healing isn’t a race. It’s architecture. You’re laying bricks where she planted bombs, replacing the echoes of “You’re too much” with floorboards that creak, “Welcome home.” The girl who survived on crumbs is now building banquets of safety, of choice, of love that doesn’t demand her disintegration. Some days, progress is planting herbs on a windowsill. Others, it’s staring at a therapist’s rug and whispering, “I think I hated her.” Both are sacred.

Let the world cluck about timelines. You’re too busy teaching your cells a new language. One where “home” isn’t a battlefield, but a sanctuary designed breath by breath. Where joy isn’t a threat, and your name isn’t synonymous with “problem.” Where you can finally unclench your jaw, lower your shoulders, and realise the war is over.

However long it takes, this isn’t delay. It’s defiance. Every slow, intentional step is a middle finger to the legacy that tried to claim you. Keep going. The daughter they tried to bury is now the woman building a life her body trusts. And that? That’s a revolution no narcissist can gaslight.

05/31/2025

Guilt allows us to live in the past. It judges, never seeing positive, has no empathy or compassion for you. So…why do we hang on so tightly?

Ingrained beliefs can limit healing.

05/30/2025

RULES OF A NARCISSIST
Do as I say, not as I do.
Double standards aren’t a flaw in my world—they’re the foundation. I demand perfection from you, but I’m free to act without accountability. My actions are never up for question, but yours will be scrutinized under a microscope.

I'm never wrong.
I don’t apologize. I don’t reflect. I rewrite reality to make myself the victim or the hero, never the villain. If you challenge me, prepare to be gaslit until you question your own sanity. I’ll shift blame so expertly that you’ll wonder if you started the fire I lit.

It's my way or the highway.
Compromise is weakness. Obedience is loyalty. Disagree with me, and you’ll feel the freeze of silence, the sting of rage, or the5 sudden withdrawal of affection. You’re allowed a voice—until it contradicts mine.

The world revolves around me.
Your dreams, emotions, and boundaries are secondary to my needs. If you expect empathy, you’ll get indifference. If you seek support, you’ll find criticism. I expect admiration, attention, and praise at all times, even when I give you nothing in return.

I don't like to be number 2.
I must be the best, the brightest, the most admired. If you outshine me, I’ll belittle you, compete with you, or subtly sabotage your success. I see others’ accomplishments not as inspiration—but as threats.

If I'm not happy, nobody is going to be happy.
Your peace irritates me if it exists without my permission. If I’m in a bad mood, I’ll start a fight, pick at your insecurities, or create tension just to feel in control. Misery is contagious—and I intend to spread it.

If you are happy, I'll soon change that.
Your happiness, if it doesn't originate from me or revolve around me, is dangerous. I’ll mock it, minimize it, or manipulate you until that joy fades and I’m once again the center of your emotional universe.

We'll do it my way.
Even if my way is chaos, dysfunction, or destruction, it must be followed. I value control over peace, and dominance over harmony. I’d rather see you broken and obedient than strong and independent.

Your needs are negotiable—mine are non-negotiable.
You’re expected to give endlessly, love unconditionally, and stay loyal eternally, even when I give nothing in return. My feelings are sacred; yours are disposable.

If you try to set boundaries, I’ll test, break, or punish them.
Your resistance is seen as betrayal. Your attempt to protect your space will be twisted into selfishness or rejection. Boundaries threaten my power—so I’ll trample them with charm, rage, or guilt.

If you ever leave me, I’ll either destroy your reputation—or pretend you never mattered.
You’re either my possession or my enemy. If you walk away, I’ll rewrite the story to make you the toxic one. And if I can’t control you, I’ll make sure no one else admires you either.

Love, to me, is control disguised as affection.
I’ll shower you with charm when I want something, then turn cold when you need me most. I confuse attention with love, manipulation with care, and domination with intimacy.

Remember: it’s not about connection, it’s about control.
And as long as you stay under my spell, I’ll keep rewriting the rules—until there’s nothing left of you that doesn’t serve me.