She’s hurt. But she’s punishing me. And I’m done gaslighting myself.

Last week I said no to a friend’s invitation — and for once, I did it clearly and honestly. I told her what I actually needed: help watching my son one evening in July so I could attend a concert. I asked if I could stay at her place and if she could look after him that night.

She replied warmly — said she’ll probably not be in town and can’t help. But she offered me her apartment to sleep in anyway.

At first I thought: I feel unseen.
She’s offering me something I don’t need. I don’t need a bed. I need someone I can trust with my child. That offer felt hollow — bypassing the actual need I had expressed clearly.

But then I realized — that wasn’t the real thought. That was the safe thought.
The deeper one was: I feel punished.

Not overtly. But in that subtle, familiar way I’ve known for years — the one that whispers, “You said no to me. Now I’ll say no to you. But I’ll wrap it in generosity so I look kind and you look ungrateful.”

And for a moment I doubted myself.
I nearly replied with a soft, clarifying message — as if maybe she just didn’t understand what I needed.
But I was clear.
She did understand.
She just chose not to show up for me in the way I asked.

I know how this sounds. I hear the old voices in my head — hers, other women I’ve known:
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it like that…”
But those voices have kept me gaslighting myself for years. I’m done with that.

Here’s the unintentional model I uncovered:
Unintentional Model

C: I declined a friend’s invitation, then asked if I could stay at her place in July and if she could babysit my son. She replied saying she likely won’t be in town and can’t help, but offered me her apartment instead.

T: She’s punishing me for saying no to her.

F: Mistrust, anger.

Sensation: Pressure in chest, subtle emptiness in belly.

A:

Almost send a soft, self-effacing reply

Distract myself with a safer thought (“Maybe I just feel unseen”)

Consider her past generosity to invalidate my current clarity

Argue with myself internally

Doubt my gut (“Am I the problem here?” Am I projecting?”, “Maybe I’m too sensitive”, “Why am I thinking the worst of people” “Give her the benefit of doubt”)

Try to rationalize the interaction to make it feel better (“I don’t know what she’s thinking.” “She really might say the truth, that he can’t”. “She might be protecting her energy as well – and she has the right to do so.” ” Her saying no does not mean anything about my worth.”)

Disconnect from my core knowing

R: I abandon my inner voice and reinforce the belief that my perceptions are untrustworthy.

But then, after sitting with it, I found a different model. Not one that denies the truth, but one that grounds me in it — and in love for myself.

Intentional Model

C: I declined a friend’s invitation, then asked if I could stay at her place in July and if she could babysit my son. She replied saying she likely won’t be in town and can’t help, but offered me her apartment instead.

T: She’s hurt by my “no.” I can understand that — but I don’t need to absorb it.

F: Compassion, grounded, light.

S: Open chest, steady breath.

A:

I don’t explain myself or backpedal

I stay in my body and with my needs

I give a short, clear reply if I choose to (e.g., “Thanks for getting back to me. I understand. Let’s keep in touch.”)

I don’t override my knowing to preserve the dynamic

I don’t chase closeness or try to manage her discomfort

R: I stay anchored in my truth, and I trust that expressing what I need doesn’t create disconnection — it reveals what’s true about the relationship. I see clearly where she stands without making it mean anything about my worth.

Answer:

There are so many wins here! Take some time to find them and acknowledge them. How can you keep building that trust in your inner voice? How can you keep love as your guide in relationships? How can you keep allowing humans to be humans, including yourself?

Compassion.

Grounded.

Light.

See if you can visualize in your mind or through art or movement what this version of you embodies.