For most of my life, I thought something was genuinely wrong with me. Not in the dramatic, cry-into-your-pillow way. In the quiet, constant, bone-deep way. The kind of wrong that hums in the background of every room you walk into. The kind that makes you shrink yourself down, smooth your edges, and spend an exhausting amount of energy pretending to be someone whose brain works like everyone else's. I was too intense. Too scattered. Too much and somehow never enough at the same time. Sound fam...

They Said You Were Broken. Turns Out You Were Just Built Different.

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