Writing about her own mother, feminist writer Phyllis Chesler suggests that an envious mother diminishes her daughter to save herself from feeling diminished: “Once, long ago, I must have been my mother’s little girl, someone she dressed, whose hair she braided—but then she left me, and I left her, and we kept leaving each other. No matter what I did to try to gain her love or approval, it was never enough, because all she wanted was me for herself, me, merged, me as her shadow, me, devoured. She loved me, but in this primitive way. I failed this love.” Chesler recounts that her mother simply wanted her to be more like her—to make the choices she had, as a woman who had always put her family, not herself, first.