I like dates. I LOVE dates. Right or wrong, I eat a pile of them and count them towards my five a day fruit and vegetable quota, something I am fanatical about. I could easily sit and eat a bagful.
You're wondering why I'm telling you this? Well, here's why: as an alienated child, I was so firmly entrenched in believing the mendacious brainwashing of my alienating parent that until 2008 I wouldn't eat dates. My mother told me at some point that as a little child I loved dates. I was so convinced she was a liar that I wouldn't eat them.
Over the past 3 years, since the alienator/male parent disowned (my kids and) me, as I've mentioned in this blog, the layers of deceit have slowly been peeling themselves away from my mind. Once I learned from a third party that he was lying about ME, to cut a long story short, it made me realise that if he was lying about me, then it's possible he lied about my mother. It was akin to a house of cards falling: I have slowly been reassessing my relationship with my late mother and have seen what a monstrous act of crime he committed in telling his own child from the age of 6 until 35 that her mother didn't love her. He twisted everything she said and did, criminalized her in my mind, and made her out to be the ultimate deceiver. He led me to believe I was literally living with the devil. I had no trust for her whatsoever because according to him, she didn't love me, she just wanted to control me. Everything she said or did to me was based on that, so when she told me I used to love dates, I didn't believe her. I thought she was lying in order to make me eat something disgusting, to torment me for her own pleasure ... when guess who was truly doing that?!