There was a time in my life when I extended endless tolerance to everyone but myself. Eventually, I came to realize that this one-sided generosity had tipped the scales of balance. Everything felt off—insincere, untrue. I saw it clearly. I understood what was happening. But I couldn’t act. I felt paralyzed in my own life, like I was merely observing rather than participating.

And in the Middle of My Chaos, There Was You. That wasn’t always clear. For a long time, I felt strung up by forces I couldn’t name, yet always felt. Racial remarks that made me question my identity. The weight of being a lifeline for someone barely holding on. The ache of parental conflict echoing louder than any apology.