The pressure to appease me that I had put on him over the years was not intentional, nor was it a lack of kindness or love on my part. It was my effort to feel safe, shaped by a very disorganized attachment style and a nervous system that learned hypervigilance was more important than connection.

They’re usually pointing me toward a part of myself that got stuck in rejection or shame. A younger part that didn’t feel seen, chosen, or safe. Instead of pushing that part away or trying to think my way out of it, I turn toward her.

Being self-aware hasn’t always been kind to me. For a long time, it kept me stuck in my head, anxious, intellectualizing, dissociating, ruminating. I would analyze, plan, and process endlessly, thinking it was helping me, yet healing and connection always felt out of reach. It was like learning all the theory about how to solve a problem, only to feel…