Before you purchase: what you need to know
Before you purchase The Conversations We Never Had, please read this page in full.
This isn’t fine print or legalese. It’s a conscious, transparent agreement about the emotional terrain you’re about to enter. The Convos isn’t a clinical guide or a gentle workbook. It’s raw and unsanitized. It contains strong language, direct truths, spiritual perspectives, and personal revelations that may challenge what you’ve been taught to believe about healing, abuse, and closure. If you choose to continue, I ask that you do so with open eyes, full agency, and clear consent.
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What this is and what it isn’t
Chances are, if you’ve found your way here you already know this, but I believe in being clear.
Here’s what you can expect from this work and, just as importantly, what you won’t find here.
This is not
A clinical guide. You won’t find medical definitions, DSM checklists, scientific data, or professional citations here. There are no academic footnotes and no diagnostic tools. This work intentionally lives outside the clinical lane.
A how-to manual for recovery. I do not offer strategies for staying in abusive relationships or managing them. I do not guide you on how to cope with your narcissistic mother, how to heal the relationship, how to reconcile, or how to overcome in the traditional self-help sense. If that’s what you’re looking for, there are many qualified professionals who specialize in that type of work.
A case-study collection or research-based text. This isn’t a collection of client stories, case studies, generic examples, or third-party anecdotes about Marcia, Jan, or Cindy. This is my story, my lived experience, shared from my own lens of observation. Just the hard truths of what happened to me and the unexpected hard answers and confessions I found on the other side.
A step-by-step plan to forgiveness. I will never tell you to accept, excuse, or love your abusive mother for who she is and then effortlessly forgive her. If forgiveness ever comes, it is your choice and your timeline. Period.
A balanced look at sibling dynamics. You will not find sibling-relationship analysis here. The Conversations We Never Had is about me, my experience, and my healing—not my sibling’s experience.
A guide for overachievers and underachievers. I speak from where I stand. For a long time, I would have told you I was an underachiever. But what I’ve come to realize is that living in survival mode isn’t the same thing as lacking ambition or drive. Rather, it’s about being trapped in a system where agency was forbidden. When your life is rooted in walking on eggshells, dodging emotional landmines, and bracing for the next unpredictable explosion, dreaming big and following through aren’t even on the table. Because why bother? When nothing you do will ever be good enough, the safest option becomes doing as little as possible or doing only what won’t provoke attack and harm. I share from my own lane of experience, not from a researcher’s checklist of personality types.
Credentialed professional advice. I am not a therapist. I am not a clinician. I hold no degrees in psychology or trauma therapy. What I hold is the authority of lived experience: over 50 years as the daughter of a covert narcissistic mother. The kind of expertise that comes from living it and surviving it, not from studying it.
A neatly packaged strategy for thinking your way out of trauma. Trauma is not something I could think my way out of. I will not minimize the complexity of my healing. Therapy with a qualified professional can be life changing (it helped me in important ways). This library is not a replacement for therapy. What I offer is a different kind of insight—the spiritual, soul-level answers I received when I asked the hard questions I couldn’t ask while my mother was alive.
A promise of confessions, apologies, or closure. Nothing in this content suggests that your own mother will ever acknowledge the abuse, apologize, or offer you closure while she is alive. My mother didn’t admit a single thing while she was here on Earth (she took those denials straight to her grave). The confessions and accountability shared in these behind-the-veil conversations were only possible because she was no longer in human form trapped in ego, shame, and defensiveness.
It’s very likely your mother, too, will offer truth and apologies if you channel her spirit from the other side. Because in that spirit state she will be her highest self existing in pure love, stripped of the ego and armor that blocked her connection to love on earth.
But here, in this life, with her human defenses intact? Please don’t wait for that apology. You deserve your healing regardless of whether it ever comes.
What this is
A raw, unfiltered look into my six-month journey working with a professional psychic medium to channel my late parents, Jeshua ben Joseph, The Divine Feminine, my spirit guides, and my soul.
A sacred space where the anger and heartbreak (among a big range of emotions) I experienced during the channeling sessions was allowed to sit at the table without being shamed or rushed away.
A real reflection of what it really looks like to question your own reality for over half a century and to finally start listening to yourself.
A living body of spirit-led sessions, each one a standalone conversation forming a powerful collection you can return to as your healing deepens or you need reassurance that you are not alone on this path.
This is not up for debate
I will not sanitize my story to sound more palatable or to protect the image of a woman who hurt me.
I sometimes use strong language or profanity to describe challenging moments I experienced during the channeling sessions and memory playback. There is anger, grief, heartbreak, shock, and pain here.
The examples I share from my life may not all sound big enough to some. Narcissistic abuse is often so covert, so insidious, so gaslight-ridden that even survivors find themselves questioning whether what they endured was real. I’m the poster child because I gaslit everything for 53 years.
So, no polished answers; rather, the unfiltered truth of my lived, messy experience.
A note on integrity and editing
Every word in this work is grounded in my lived experience and spiritual journey. While I used AI editing support to refine structure, grammar, and flow, the voice, emotion, and truth are entirely my own.
AI didn’t channel my mother. AI didn’t survive the abuse. AI didn’t bleed or cry onto the page. It didn’t relive the memories. It didn’t survive the mother. It didn’t suffer through the aftermath. I did.
This isn’t something AI created. It’s something I lived through, alchemized, and chose to share because I know it’ll help people like me and the compassionate professionals who care for us. I simply used a modern tool like any writer using Grammarly, a screenwriter using Final Draft, or a memoirist working with an editor to help shape what was already mine to say.
A note on language
I sometimes use profanity.
I use the words trauma and nervous system. That doesn’t mean I’m pretending to be a therapist, doctor, or mental health professional and I will not tolerate accusations saying so. I use the language that fits because some words, even when they sound clinical, are the most accurate and honest reflection of what I lived through.
I won’t dumb down my word choices or my experience to appease people who prefer softer packaging or who love to nitpick semantics.
I trust my voice. I trust my readers. And I trust that if you’re here, you know exactly what I mean.
This content is for informational purposes only.
“I’m not here to tell you what healing should look like for you. And MAKE NO MISTAKE ABOUT THIS: I will never push forgiveness on you. Forgiveness, if it comes for you, is deeply personal.
Your feelings are valid. Your pain is valid. Your grief is valid. And your timeline is the right timeline.
Take what resonates from The Conversations We Never Had, leave what doesn’t. Pause when you need to, then come back when you’re ready.
This work is meant to offer truth, reflection, and the possibility of peace and hope.”
A note on abuse, diagnosis, and lived experience
I want to speak directly to the part of you that may already feel anxious reading these words. The part that might wonder if your experience counts or that questions whether what happened to you was bad enough.
Hear this: there is no abuse Olympics here. There is no scale to measure whose wounds are more valid.
If you were harmed, if you were hurt, if you were diminished or controlled or bullied or made to doubt your own reality, you belong here.
Our experiences with maternal narcissistic abuse may not look the same. Your mother may have been harsher than mine or not as cruel. You may have lived through daily assaults on your spirit or experienced quieter forms of manipulation and erasure. Maybe your mother wasn’t abusive 24/7, just like mine.
Abuse comes in many costumes, but the impact on the heart, the wholeness of your being, and the sense of self runs deep no matter how it’s dressed.
For the record: my mother was never officially diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder or any other clinical label. Like many who abuse behind closed doors, she avoided anything that could expose her (I know because her spirit said so). Therapy would have shined a light where she wanted darkness. Plus, there’s no way in hell she’d ever go to therapy. A diagnosis would have put a name to what she worked so hard to cover up.
I didn’t need paperwork to tell me what I lived through. What I needed was truth and to understand WHY.
It wasn’t until one of the most intense channeling sessions that I fully understood how much she feared exposure. Her spirit described, in vivid detail, the fury of her “beast within” the day I unexpectedly called out her behavior during the most terrifying incident I ever endured with her. I was 53 years old at the time. That story is shared in the pages ahead.
And somewhere in the midst of these conversations we never had—long after I stopped hoping for any kind of accountability—my mother’s spirit quietly admitted: “I was a narcissist. It’s OK if you call me a narcissist.”
That was all the confirmation I needed.
What I share here is my lived experience of over half a century. The inside story and the unvarnished truth of what it feels like to survive a covert narcissistic mother from birth until her death and then begin the long, complicated work of putting yourself back together. Of discovering who you really are.
I did not heal while my abuser was alive. I could not because I did not even allow myself to name what was happening to me until I was 53 years old.
December 20, 2020 — the day I finally let the truth land.
February 15, 2021 — the day I went no contact.
August 29, 2021 — the day she died.
Those dates matter because they mark the beginning of my self-reconstruction. Not healing in the polished, glossy sense. But the raw, honest collapse and rebuilding that happens when your lifelong foundation evaporates.
I want to be transparent about something that adds to the complexity of this kind of abuse: it wasn’t bad 24/7/365.
There were good times, too. Moments when my mother seemed warm, fun, amicable. Sometimes we vacationed together. We watched college football. We celebrated holidays and birthdays. But even in those moments, I never rested from my hypervigilance. I never stopped scanning the room, reading her tone, tracking the slightest shifts in her expression while bracing for the next eruption I knew would come out of nowhere (boy, does it feel good to not have to do that anymore!).
This inconsistency and the total whiplash between affection and annihilation are some of the most devastating tools of maternal narcissistic abuse. It kept me trapped between hope and fear. It confused my instincts and it stole my sense of safety. It stayed with me long into adulthood and midlife.
These channeled conversations helped me untangle that confusion. They helped me see clearly for the first time.
What to expect
What you’ll read are the direct transcripts of my channeled conversations. They’re raw, revealing, and sometimes difficult to absorb.
Woven throughout are my real-time reflections, knee-jerk reactions, emotional outbursts, and unrehearsed thoughts. They’re raw, too, because that’s how truth lands when it hasn’t been filtered or rehearsed.
Through these dialogues, you’ll gain a rare, unguarded, soul-level glimpse into the mind of one mean narcissistic mother after death stripped away her defenses.
This is unprecedented access for daughters, therapists, and anyone trying to understand how a mother becomes this way, including:
her ego, her wounds, and the driving force behind her abuse
the childhood traumas and early life experiences that hardened her and her heart
the toxic cycles that greatly worsened as she aged
the masks she wore to survive, manipulate, and maintain control
the deep shame and self-loathing buried beneath her cruelty
the twisted justifications she clung to in order to excuse her behavior
the ways she envied, resented, and depended on her daughter’s light
the spiritual perspective she gained after death—and what she finally saw from the other side.
You’ll also read reflections from my father’s spirit, Jeshua ben Joseph, The Divine Feminine, my spirit guides, and my own soul. Each conversation revealed another piece of the larger story I was finally able to piece together after a lifetime of confusion.
This is not passive reading. I invite you to approach these conversations at your own pace. Let them meet you gently or strike hard, depending on what you’re ready to hear and feel.
You will find that the insights land differently each time you revisit them. Healing rarely happens all at once.
The Conversations We Never Had is best viewed on a device larger than a cell phone.
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By purchasing The Conversations We Never Had, you agree to the truths shared on this page.
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