Ahuva didn’t have a problem with her mother. She was the problem. She had a handicap. She didn’t know how to handle people
I
went cold. Until that moment, I’d been under the impression that Ahuva was in a good place now. She didn’t have to be afraid of her mother’s reactions to her friendships anymore.
Really, it wasn’t such a big deal that she was telling me this. I’d heard plenty about her complicated relationship with her mother. Why was I reacting so strangely this time? And why was I having such a hard time responding to her revelation?
I realized that I didn’t know what she was expecting me to say. Did she want me to ask her to explain? Probably, or else why would she mention it to me? But I didn’t want to hear about it. Whatever was going on, I certainly couldn’t help her. She had her husband to discuss these things with now. I wasn’t a therapist. For goodness’ sake, I was two years younger than her.
