For years, I was the one who had it together.
Freelance marketing consultant. Corporate clients. Good at the work, reliable, never missed a deadline. I'd bought my own home on my own. No partner, no safety net. Just me, making it happen the way I'd always made it happen. By pushing harder.
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What I didn't know then was that pushing harder wasn't strength. It was a programme.
One I'd inherited long before I understood what inheritance really meant.
The story running underneath everything went something like this:
Achievement is safety. Rest is dangerous. Love has to be earned. Keep moving. Don't stop. Stopping means something's wrong with you.
I didn't question it. It was just how life worked. I thought.