Write, the only expressions of emotion I can recall from childhood must have occurred during my mother's season of menopause.. there was nothing positive about it, that's for sure. She would often disappear into the bathroom around mealtime and the tension in our home would close in on me like steel bands around my chest. I dreaded suppertime.
Spiritually, my mother represented God in my mind's eye, so when I'd think of Him, I'd see her pursed lips and disapproving, disappointed look. I can remember lying in my bed as a little girl and counting. When I reached the end ( the # I'd count to going higher, depending on how "bad" I had been) then I'd be "perfect". Like a "do-over". Over and over and over. Finally I gave up.
The church (and its associated school) in which I was raised should have been listed in the Top 10 of Toxicity. We girls were told that we were responsible for putting lust into the hearts of the boys if we didn't dress appropriately. We were taught to completely isolate and insulate ourselves from the wicked world and to never ever question authority. Women were not allowed to wear pants and absolutely prohibited from taking on any role in leadership and if a man came to the church door without a tie, he had to put on one that they kept for a spare or else leave. Unreal.
OK, I'm making myself nauseous. I'm thankful to God that He gave me the ability to have a rich inner world where people weren't hypocrites and they genuinely cared about each other.
Glad you have a new friend, Write

My husband smiles alot too, and that alone is a blessing.
Hope