The rules, the expectations, the way things are “supposed” to be done. Growing up with narcissistic parents, I learned early how to play by other people’s rules just to survive, but damn, did it wear me down. Add to that being an eldest daughter with CPTSD, a mom of three, and married to a Marine—it’s safe to say I’ve spent my life navigating other people’s needs while trying not to lose myself.

But surviving isn’t thriving, and it sure as hell isn’t living. I spent years bending myself into a pretzel to meet expectations that weren’t even mine, only to end up drained, frustrated, and resentful. I kept asking myself, “What’s the point of all this if I can’t even recognize the person staring back at me?”