I once told my therapist:
"I feel safest when I do everything alone." She didn't even ask me why. She just said, "That's not Independence. That's grief." And I swear, I felt something in me break open. Because it is grief isn't it? Grief for every time you asked for help, and no one came. Grief for being the child who had to hold it all together while everyone and everything was falling apart. Grief for realizing way to young, that no one was ever really coming to save you. You didnt chose to be strong. You had to be. Because breaking wasn't safe. Crying didn't change anything. And needing people only led to disappointment, guilt, and punishment. So, you grew up over-prepared. You move through life with backup plans for your backup plans. You double-check doors, messages, emotions, everything. You carry the weight of "I'll handle it," even when you're breaking inside. People call you "independent" but they dont see the version of you who secretly wants to collapse into someone's arms and actually be caught this time.
