29/01/2026
At some point, I stopped blaming my diagnosis — the labels of anxiety, depression, mental health — and began gently looking at what was actually triggering my symptoms.
For a long time, I held onto a diagnosis given by someone who had studied the mind, but had never lived my experience. I let it become a separate identity, a story about who I was. And if I’m honest, I was often seeking understanding and sympathy — because I was hurting. I know this deeply, because that person was me.
What truly shifted things was learning to look at my own beliefs and asking myself,
“Is this the definite truth?”
That question changed everything.
I had to sit with myself — patiently, and sometimes uncomfortably — and notice how much of the way I saw the world had more to do with me than I realised. Becoming honest with myself, and gently working with the parts I had hidden, became the real work.
It took a long time to learn how to love myself. But the version of me that emerged feels authentic and honest. I genuinely love who I am now — regardless of what others think.
Love is the energy that guides me.
💖