THE AUTOPSY OF UNSPENT LOVE PART III: THE ANATOMY OF "TOO LATE" Chapter 10: The Heritage of "Yes" Meera walked into her apartment at 8:45 PM. Her head was still buzzing from the conversation in the waiting room. The image of Kabir weeping over a medical report had cracked something inside her—a protective shell she hadn't realized she was wearing. She found her son, Rahul, at the dining table. Rahul was twelve. He was a quiet boy with watchful eyes—eyes that constantly scanned the room for the emotional temperature of the adults around him. He was wearing his school uniform. "Did you eat?" Meera asked, dropping her bag on the sofa. It was her standard greeting. Functional. Checking a box. "No, Mama," Rahul said softly. "I waited for you." Meera frowned. "I told you to eat at 7:00. Why did you wait?" "I thought... I thought you might want company," Rahul said, his voice shrinking. He looked down at his hands. "And I finished the math worksheet. The extra one. I got all the sums right." He pushed a piece of paper across the table. It was perfectly neat. No erasures. Meera looked at the paper, then at her son. She saw the dark circles under his eyes. She saw the slight tremor in his hand. She reached out and touched his forehead. He was burning up. "Rahul, you have a fever," she said, her voice rising in panic. "Why didn't you call me? Why are you doing math?" "I didn't want to disturb you," Rahul whispered. "You said you had a big meeting. I didn't want to be... a problem." The word hung in the air. Problem. Meera froze. The room seemed to tilt. In that moment, she didn't see a twelve-year-old boy. She saw a mirror. She saw herself at ten years old, sitting with a high fever, helping her mother chop vegetables because she wanted to be a "good girl." She remembered swallowing her pain because her mother looked tired, and she learned early that Love is conditional on being low-maintenance. She was looking at the Intergenerational Transmission of Trauma. Rahul wasn't just being "good." He was Fawning. In psychology, the Fawn Response (distinct from Fight, Flight, or Freeze) is a survival strategy where a child suppresses their own needs to appease a parent to avoid conflict or rejection. Rahul had learned that his mother was stressed and busy. To ensure his safety (her approval), he had to erase his own needs (hunger, sickness) and perform (math homework). He was unable to say "No" to his own internal tyrant because he was afraid of hearing "No" from her. Meera realized with a sick lurch that the infection had passed. She had caught the virus of "Pathological Altruism"—the compulsion to please others at the cost of the self—from her mother. And now, she had coughed it onto Rahul. He isn't studying because he likes math, Meera realized, horrified. He is studying to buy my love. He thinks he has to earn his place at this table. She thought of the research Dr. Farah had mentioned—how the inability to say no is linked to autoimmune diseases, migraines, and chronic pain. The body says "No" because the mouth cannot. Meera’s migraines were her body’s scream. And now, Rahul was starting his own journey toward a lifetime of sickness, all to be "polite." "Stop," Meera said. Rahul flinched. "I'm sorry, Mama. I'll go to sleep." "No," Meera said, her voice breaking. She knelt down so she was eye-level with him. She took the math worksheet—the symbol of his performance, his "rent" for living in her house—and crumpled it. Rahul’s eyes went wide. "You don't have to earn your dinner, Rahul," Meera said, tears streaming down her face. "You don't have to be smart to be loved. You don't have to be healthy to be loved. You don't have to wait for me." "But... you're busy," Rahul said, confused. "I have to help." "You are a child," Meera sobbed, pulling him into a hug. His body was hot with fever, a physical manifestation of the stress he was carrying for her. "It is not your job to make my life easier. It is my job to take care of you. Even if you fail math. Even if you are annoying. Even if you scream. You are not a transaction." She held him tight, rocking him back and forth. She realized that breaking the cycle wasn't about being a "Superwoman." It was about giving Rahul the permission she never gave herself: The permission to be a burden. Because only when we allow ourselves to be a burden can we truly be held. "We are going to eat," Meera said, wiping her face. "And then I am going to call Grandma. And you are going to listen to me tell her that I love her, even though she drives me crazy. Because you need to see that love doesn't require perfection." She picked up the phone. The infection stops here. ________________________________________ Key Concepts Covered in Narrative: 1. The Fawn Response (Trauma): Rahul suppresses his biological needs (hunger, sickness) to appease his mother, mirroring a survival strategy often found in children of high-functioning or narcissistic parents. 2. Intergenerational Transmission: Meera recognizes that Rahul’s behavior is a replica of her own childhood conditioning ("Good Girl Syndrome"), where love was earned through performance and self-erasure. 3. Pathological Altruism: The "disease to please" is shown not as kindness, but as a fear-based inability to set boundaries, leading to physical illness (Rahul’s fever). 4. Breaking the Cycle: Meera’s intervention—crumpling the homework and validating his right to be "a burden"—is the antidote. She shifts the dynamic from Conditional Regard ("I love you if you are good") to Unconditional Regard ("I love you even if you fail").