healing

For a long time, I didn’t think of myself as an angry person. Frustrated? Sure. Irritated? Occasionally. But anger? That felt like something that belonged to other people—louder people, reckless people, people who hadn’t mastered the art of keeping things together. I convinced myself I was past all that. Turns out, anger doesn’t disappear just because you ignore it. It waits. It sinks into your muscles, stiffens your jaw, shapes the way you shrink yourself to keep the peace. It turns into exhaustion that no amount of sleep can fix. It …

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