For most of my life, I was the good girl. Good for my parents, good for my partner, good at work — where “good” mostly meant assistant, secretary, the person quietly making sure everyone else’s day ran smoothly. I didn’t choose those roles so much as fall into the shape of them, over and over,…
Guilt around choosing yourself usually isn’t proof you did something wrong — it’s an old, inherited rule firing on a situation it was never actually built to judge. Recognising that distinction is most of the work. Guilt rarely travels alone. It comes with stories attached, with expectations, with invisible rules nobody ever actually asked you…