We've all been there: Someone asks if you're okay, and even though your world feels like it's crumbling, you manage a weak smile and say, "I'm just tired." It rolls off the tongue so easily, doesn't it? Like a reflex we've perfected over years of practice. I used to be the queen of this response. During my worst anxiety spirals in my twenties, when deadlines loomed and my chest felt tight,
For most of my life, I asked myself a quiet question: What's wrong with me? I didn't say it out loud. I didn't have to. It was stitched into how I moved through the world - hyperaware, self-correcting, and always just a little out of step. I knew how to "pass" in the right settings, but never without effort. Underneath it all, I was exhausted by the daily performance of normal.