I got sober, built a business, and still felt broken. Because I hadn’t healed the belief underneath it all: I’m only worthy if I’m needed. This isn’t just a story about dysfunction—it’s a wake-up call. Beliefs aren’t thoughts. They’re survival strategies etched into the nervous system. If your life is built on a belief, what belief are you building it on—and is it time to rebuild?

Spirituality was supposed to help me see clearer, love deeper, choose better. Instead, it became my favorite disguise. I wasn't in conscious relationships — I was in beautifully lit dumpster fires, calling them karmic connections. This essay dives into how "being spiritual" became my favorite way to lie to myself in love — and what finally burned the illusion to the ground.

He kept chasing sparks in other people’s windows, mistaking warmth for permanence. Always halfway moved in—bags packed, heart open—before the door was even unlocked. If you’ve ever lost yourself in love trying to feel safe, this story is yours. It’s about anxiety, attachment, and finally building a home inside your own skin.

“Your nervous system isn’t always looking for what’s safe. It’s looking for what’s familiar. And if chaos was your childhood, calm will feel like a threat.” Until you learn the language of your body, you’ll keep calling red flags chemistry and labeling peace as suspicious. Nervous system regulation isn’t just healing—it’s rewiring your compass for love.