Happy birthday, narcissistic misgivings.

On the surface, it appears lovely, a mother who loves and understands her daughter until knowing the reality of course. I used to get lots of love and kisses in my cards, now I'm not doing what she wants, now I'm not biting or rising to her demands and not seeing her I get this. I am grateful at least that she uses my given name, my favoured name at last. For once, I actually feel sorry for her..the second time in my life. I realized as I was skimming over the ungenuine sentiment of this card how I know she'd really rather not send one at all. I've witnessed this struggle in her with other relatives that she'd prefer not to send cards but does so because being thought of as uncaring or bad in some way is harder for her to deal with. I send her cards since deciding to have no physical contact because I want to, I can love her better from a distance without all the projections and button pushing, without feeling so angry with her as she constantly aggravates deliberately to feel superior or whatever nonsense she believes she's achieved. Putting myself in her shoes, I am glad to be in a position where I am free to make these decisions without any concern for what other people might think of me. She's trapped by her own insecurities and fear. That used to be me, the internal struggle she kindly passed on but this apple fell much further than her grasp. This apple has ripened and grown into a more compassionate and understanding tree. That must really piss her off, shine on her like a razor light cutting through to the core of her grief. That, I feel incredibly sad about.