On taking off the costume

Today I caught myself performing.

Mid-conversation, I heard my own voice doing the thing: the polished, capable, everything’s-handled voice. Meanwhile the actual me stood somewhere behind it, waving, like hello, I’m also here.

Here’s what I keep learning: the costume isn’t evil. It got us through things. It kept us safe in rooms that weren’t safe for the real us. Gratitude to the costume, honestly.

But costumes have zippers. That’s the whole point of them.

So tonight I journaled on one question, and I’ll leave it here for you too:

Where in my life am I still performing a role that once protected me but now just keeps me hidden?

Sit with it. Write messy. Nobody’s grading you.