“You are awake, and so you have seen the difference between us, between men
akin to their father, and those who take their destiny from a woman, the
difference between spirit and intellect.“
Narcissus in 'Narcissus and Goldmund' by Hermann Hesse
It makes me wonder, of whom did I take my life? I dare say, neither, especially mother, who worked her whole life to crush the spirit in me, for whom what I wanted was never good enough... to please her, I had to become like she wanted me to me, and that meant sacrificing everything that I wanted to do.
Could it have been my great-grandmother? Yet I hardly knew her until I was an adult, how could she have shaped me? Getting to know her was finding out how similar we were... does that mean it’s genetic? She has a passion for beauty and poetry and idealism that neither my grandmother (her daughter) nor my dad shared and therefore could not have passed on to me. Maybe it is genetic then? On the other hand, I’ve always felt like a stranger in my own family.
I enjoy my strength and independence, but still, there is a craving in me for protection. It is not that I need it, and unwelcome protection that stems from being patronizing drives me up the wall, but sometimes I want it. From some people. It’s not that I need it, and I know intellectually that I am worth protecting, so I can let go of it. It’s not that I need protection. I just want to know that I am worth it.