Your Inner Beacon

But my hand won’t reach for the handle because something in me is convinced that if I open that door, whatever is waiting inside will end me.

So I stand there.

Frozen.

Negotiating with myself in the dark.

I was eight years old.

And I had already learned the skill that would run my life for the next three decades:

The full story is on my substack. Link in the comments

You've been working hard.
That's not the problem.
The problem is that everything you've tried has been working on the symptoms while the pattern underneath keeps running.
There's a different kind of work.
The kind that goes to the root.
I'm going to be sharing something soon for the women who are done with the surface level stuff and ready for what's underneath.
Stay close.