Focus: The irony of being a professional fixer while losing yourself.
I spent my days helping others find peace in their bodies in the mind. I Was a healer. It wasn’t just my job; it was my identity. So when a man I loved to be began to fracture, I didn’t run. I reached for my tool kit.
I thought, if I just listened harder, softened my voice Moore, or found the right cure for his trauma, I could fix the “Monster” that was appearing in my home. I miss took my compassion for a superpower, But without boundaries, it became my cage.
So what was the hardest truth I had to swallow? Someone can be wounded and still be dangerous.
Reclaiming my sovereign agency me realizing that I wasn’t a failure for not healing him. It meant realizing that my primary responsibility was to heal the woman he was breaking — ME.
The Warrior Lesson : You cannot love someone into treating you with basic humanity.
