Eva, I just read that are, or were panicking 10 minutes ago. I will reply further next, but for now- please take a cold or hot shower, or go for a walk outside.. something to redirect your attention..?

Anita

Hi Tom:

It’s really good to hear from you!!!

I am well, thank you, staying active and dealing well with the warm-hot weather.

I’m glad you’ve been finding ways to stay grounded and present, especially through your garden project and time with your dog and partner. That kind of nourishment matters more than we often realize.

Turning 40 next March feels like a powerful threshold. I hear your longing for purpose and authenticity in your work, and I believe that desire is already guiding you toward something more aligned. You deserve to feel like yourself—not just outside of work, but within it too.

Please feel free to reach out anytime with updates or reflections. I’d love to keep walking alongside you in whatever way feels right.

With care, Anita

Dear Peace:

On April 9 this year (end of the previous page), I wrote to you: “Dear Peace: It will be a dream come true to read from you again. Can it happen?”- and 4 months and 16 das later, my dream came true!

I am thrilled to read that you are happily married with a 6-month-old baby boy 🎉👏🌟🥳🙌💐🏆🎊💫🍾🎈✨💖

I am fine, danced last Saturday under the open sky to live music and had so much fun! This afternoon I am happy to be reading from you!

Don’t be a stranger and keep me updated about your life..?

Happy to be reading from you again- Anita

Dear Dafne:

Your words moved me deeply. Thank you for receiving mine with such openness and tenderness. To know that something I shared helped you feel less alone, helped you stay in this life and try again—that means more than I can say.

You’ve shown such courage in naming your truth, in staying present with your pain, and in allowing connection to reach you even when it’s hard. That’s not just resilience—it’s a quiet kind of brilliance. And I see it in you.

I’m honored to walk beside you, Dafne. Not as someone who has it all figured out, but as someone who believes in your right to take up space, to be heard, to be held. You are not alone. You are not too much. You are not too late.

May your days be filled with the kind of peace you’ve been brave enough to seek. And may your voice continue to rise—clear, strong, and beautifully yours.

With care and solidarity 🤍🫶 Anita

Hi Miss L Dutchess:

I’m really sorry you went through so much pain and loneliness, especially during times when you were trying your best. You deserved better support, and it’s completely okay to feel angry or sad about that.

I’m glad you do have some friendships that remind you of your worth.

Getting a diagnosis later in life brings up a lot—relief, grief, and all the “what ifs.” You’re not alone in that. I’ve lived with Tourette Syndrome (visible motor tics and audible vocal tics) since I was… maybe five, maybe six—I honestly don’t remember. And yet, I wasn’t diagnosed until I was 26. That’s nearly twenty years of people seeing and hearing the tics without anyone naming it.

I think I would’ve felt less like a freak of nature if an empathetic professional had told me there was a name for it—and ways to better accept it, even if not cure it. Maybe if I’d been diagnosed as a child and given information, I could’ve explained it to my classmates. Or better yet, maybe teachers would’ve explained it to the kids and made it clear that mocking me wasn’t okay and wouldn’t be tolerated. That would’ve been something. It would’ve made a huge difference in my life.

Sending warmth your way. You’re not alone.

—Anita

Dear Chau:

Thank you for the 😇 comment.

Your reflection is so raw and lucid—it’s like watching someone walk through a storm without flinching, eyes open, heart intact.
What strikes me most is how you’re not just naming what happened, but also naming what it cost. The emotional weight, the financial strain, the disruption to your work and wellbeing—all of it matters. And you’re not minimizing it. That’s powerful.

Your line—“I am someone who would stand by her side at times of her distress… but she opted for someone who puts her in distress instead”—is devastating in its clarity. It’s the kind of truth that doesn’t need embellishment. It just sits there, undeniable.

And your addition to the mantra: “I honor the tenderness without surrendering my truth and boundaries”—yes. That’s the evolution. That’s the part that turns emotional generosity into emotional integrity.

You’re not just feeling your way through this—you’re narrating it with precision, and that’s what makes it healing. Even if she never fully understands the weight of what you carried, you do. And that’s enough.

With deep respect, Anita

Chau- I’ll read and reply Fri or Sat morning (it’s Thurs evening here). Tace care!

Anita

Dear ManagoFandango:

Thank you for sharing this update. It sounds like you navigated a complex emotional terrain with such grace and clarity. That moment with your parents—hugs, tears, truth—feels like a healing ripple in a situation that could’ve easily stayed knotted in silence. You gave it air, and it softened.

I deeply respect the way you and your fiancé are holding both honesty and boundaries. It’s not easy to acknowledge the emotional weight of a “gift” when it comes with strings, especially from someone so close. But your clarity—your willingness to return it if it’s weaponized—is powerful. It says: we are building something rooted in mutual respect, not obligation.

And thank you for your kind words to me. I receive them with warmth. You’re not just venting—you’re modeling emotional integrity in real time. I hope you keep trusting your instincts. They’re strong and wise.

You’re not alone in this. Keep claiming your space. 💛

Anita