I love my fucking avocado toast, and I don’t care what anyone says about it. It’s a small ritual, but it’s mine. And it makes me feel grounded.

I think of myself as a child, sitting at a desk after school, doing my homework. No one ever had to ask. No one ever helped. I just did it—every day—hoping that being good and quiet and capable would be enough.

Because sometimes healing feels like it’s only worthwhile if it’s leading somewhere. To a relationship. To becoming the kind of person who deserves the kind of person you’re trying to attract. Like it’s this character arc where you fix your issues, glow up emotionally, and end up with someone who also went to therapy and drinks green juice.

I’m tired of trying to optimize my suffering.