🔥

Ingredients:

  • 1 portion of constant criticism
  • 2 pinches of undermining confidence
  • 3 tablespoons of “it’s for your own good”
  • a generous handful of pity-smiles
  • ✨ essential: fake concern at the end to make sure she feels like crap — but blames herself for it

Instructions:
Slowly simmer the target emotionally over low heat for months or years.
Baste regularly with phrases like “everyone goes through this” and “maybe you’re just too sensitive.”
Finish with a spiritual glaze: “we just want you to grow.”

🍷 Serve with a side of gaslighting and guilt in a wine glass.

Bon appétit, darling.
And when you start to feel the aftertaste, that’s your soul knocking.
Don’t let anyone convince you that you were “difficult.” You were just too self-aware to swallow their narrative.

Because listen: souls aren’t meant to be roasted. They’re meant to be held. Or the kitchen needs to be evacuated.

😈 Classic manipulation spices:

Have you ever heard:

  • “You’re too much.”
  • “You’re overreacting.”
  • “You’re impossible to talk to.”
  • “We’re all trying, you’re the one creating drama.”
  • “Others have it worse.” ← chef’s kiss of guilt-tripping

That last one? The golden spice. Used to silence you while pretending it’s compassion. Because nothing shuts down self-worth like comparing your wound to someone else’s amputation.

These are the go-to flavors of the soul-burning recipe. And you? You go from a rich, layered being to burnt toast — kind of functional, but slowly crumbling.

🔥 Then the moment comes:

❌ You can’t breathe.
❌ You can’t trust.
❌ You don’t recognize yourself in the mirror.

And they say: “Why aren’t you yourself anymore?”

Because you, my dear, were cooked. Not in water. In narratives. In control. In the warped mirror of someone else’s comfort.

🌟 But there’s one thing they can’t take:

Your soul remembers the flavor of freedom.

One day, you’ll smell something unexpected — not bitterness. Courage.

And you’ll rise. And say:

🍽️ “Thanks for the recipe. But from now on, I cook for myself.”