My answer from an earlier question. :
Of course the births of my children affected me profoundly, but most of the ‘defining’ moments I can think of are not so pretty.
The day my mother allowed me (at age 7) to go to my child molesting uncle’s apartment, alone, I realized I was well and truly on my own. When I was 13, and took it upon myself to make him stop abusing me, I realized it was ok to be on my own…I was strong enough to survive it. As a result, I am an over-protective parent and never depended on anyone for years. When I fell in love with my second husband, and truly accepted that I could rely on him, I realized I was no longer on my own. With his support, I was finally able to end an awful relationship with my mother, and move on.