For a time in my life, and it ended too quickly, I had a mother figure who loved me even though I wasn't perfect.

My T helped me to realize this and to try to see myself the way this person saw me.

I can't believe there are people out there with parents who love all of them.

Whenever I see someone post to Facebook his or her love of an adult child, say for a birthday or something, I feel intensely sad. No one will every thank the world, and proudly boast, about the day that I entered into their lives.

It's so hard to live off of the scraps of affection I've been able to cull from teachers and mentors. And I'm not alone in living off of scraps. But it still hurts.