I still sometimes hear those old words and feel Mother's disapproving eyes – even though she's been dead since 2019. I mean… I don't literally hear her voice. She's not some specter wavering mistily over my shoulder. I hear her in my own words, whenever I talk down to myself. I learned that language from her.

I never talked that way to my son. Unfortunately, he heard me talk that way about myself. Sadly, I've heard him talk about himself that way. It breaks my heart.