So I mold myself. Quietly. Carefully. Skillfully. This is not me pretending. This is not me performing. This is survival.

There comes a point when a child understands, without being told, that who they are is not enough and who they need to be is someone else entirely. It is the moment when the body whispers, “Be what they need, not what you feel.” The moment when expression becomes a risk and emotion becomes a luxury.