This week, I caught myself whispering something I thought I had long since outgrown.
“What’s wrong with me?”
Not in a reflective, healing way.
No, this was the sharp, punishing, shame-laced tone that used to live rent-free in my head.
The tone that surfaces when I’m tired, anxious, scared, behind, and triggered all at once.
Because there were days, I couldn’…
