The years I disappeared
From the outside, it looked like strength.
I spent decades being exactly what everyone needed. The good daughter. The devoted mother of four boys. The woman who held it all together, who never dropped the ball, who said yes before anyone finished asking.
Underneath, I was slowly disappearing. I gave and gave until there was almost nothing left that was mine. Then one ordinary day I looked up and realized I had no idea who I was when no one needed anything from me.
I had become a stranger to myself.
I found my way back the slow, real way: calming my own nervous system, forgiving myself for the years I abandoned, and remembering the woman I was made to be, underneath everything the world had handed me to carry.


