Beware

 

Never challenge the gentle one. It is like feeding the mogwai after midnight.

Her sensibilities rise to the surface with a transformation that begins with tears and indignation. Armor unfolds in cold passive aggressive waves that will freeze you.

She trembles in rage. Her thoughts begin to jumble, and she turns to her enablers for validation and comfort.

If only the rest of the world understood her delicate sensibilities!

Her bag of tricks depends on fulfilling her needs and she needs to be needed! Drama feeds her vision of self, calling all those nearby to come defend her.

Against who?

Why reality of course! The long nurtured and carefully curated line of people who must need her in the way she chooses has altered over the years and now she is panicked. Her soul begins to shrivel and starve as her son attains independence. Retirement looms along with those needy patients and that awful job she has moaned about for years. 

Her last bastion for pity and power comes from the child whose needs were never met. The pretty pet who was curled and dressed, shined and polished and kept on a leash just short enough to maintain mama's ego.

Yes, beware the Gentle one or she will eat you alive.