My mother and I have not spoken for many years. In that time, I have found peace—and, more importantly, I have found myself. Though I am still piecing together parts of me that were lost in the chaos of trauma that came with living under my mother’s roof, I have grown.

If you’ve followed this blog, you are well aware of my mother’s past behaviors and the challenges I endured as a child. For a long time, I believed I would never have to relive the stress and anxiety of being around her. But recently, my mother has fallen ill. Now elderly and losing her memory, she has drawn my siblings and me back into her life as we try to support her.

Yet, despite her frail appearance, my mother has not changed—she has only refined her ways. In the short time my siblings and I have been involved, I can already see the weight of her presence on them. She has begun to do what she does best: planting seeds of doubt, twisting stories, and pitting us against one another. Even with her mind slipping, her ability to manipulate remains intact.

But I have changed. I have learned to filter her words, standing near her yet maintaining an emotional barrier. I allow her to speak without absorbing her energy. As her daughter, I acknowledge my role in ensuring she is not taken advantage of in her old age. But I also recognize the importance of setting boundaries—of not allowing myself to be pulled back into her toxicity.

In these past few weeks, I have called on my guides and ancestors for protection, and I have felt their presence. I am no longer her mental punching bag. My spiritual team has strengthened me, helping me uphold my boundaries and see her for who she truly is: a broken woman. I have learned to stand in her presence without letting her break me.

Still, I cannot deny that her presence affects me. My siblings and I have maintained peaceful relationships for years in her absence, yet the moment she reenters our lives, she disrupts our harmony. This is why I must continue calling on my spiritual team to guide us through these times. I trust that all the shadow work I have done over the years has prepared me for this moment—to face her without losing myself.