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Some fear becoming the monster their past whispered they would be. They search their childhood, their wounds, and their trauma for explanations, until they mistake the scars for their identity. In trying so desperately to escape the past, they unknowingly let it write their future. Others fear the person they may never become. They build themselves from expectations instead of desire, measuring their worth through the eyes of strangers. Every judgment becomes a mirror, every failure a verdict. Anxiety is born from tomorrow, depression often lingers in yesterday. One is chained to memory. The other is chained to possibility. Yet both forget the same truth that fear is not destiny. The past can explain us, but it does not own us. The future can invite us, but it does not command us. Between the two lies the only place where a person is truly free, the present, where choice still belongs to them.