It starts with a whisper. A tiny, nagging thought. You’re going to mess this up. Before I know it, the whisper turns into a full-scale production. Everyone can see through you. You should probably disappear into the woods and live among creatures that don’t judge. For years, this voice had all the authority of a Supreme Court ruling. It dictated what was true: If anxiety showed up, that meant I wasn’t ready. If envy flared, that meant I was failing. If guilt sank its claws in, that meant I was a terrible person. The voice never considered …
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