My mother still leaves me feeling corrected when I went to her hoping to feel held

Dear Delyara, I don’t always go to her with my heart open. I know better than to do that without caution. But every now and then some hopeful part of me still tries. I say I’m tired. I say I’m finding something hard. I let a little more honesty out than usual. And somehow it returns to me as advice, comparison, or criticism dressed in concern. She doesn’t think she is hurting me. That is what makes it harder. I leave those calls not furious, not devastated, just strangely lonelier than before, as if I had offered something small and real and watched it get translated into a language that didn’t include tenderness.