I was left with this burning shame in my chest, the kind that clings to your skin like sweat. My anxiety went through the roof. I couldn’t breathe for a minute. I wanted to disappear, rewind the morning, run.

But here’s the thing—even in the messiest moments, all you can be is honest.

Yes, sometimes the brave thing isn’t to stay away. Sometimes the brave thing is to admit I slipped. I broke my own boundary. I sought closure in a place that’s only ever given me chaos.

We talk about healing like it’s this clean, upward slope. But sometimes, healing looks like making the same mistake again—with more awareness this time.

I wanted answers. But what I got instead was the truth I’ve been avoiding, some things won’t ever make sense.

Our nervous systems aren’t built for logic—they’re built for survival. And sometimes, survival looks like chasing what hurt us, just to soothe the confusion.

So here I am. Embarrassed. Hurt. But honest.

And maybe that’s enough for today.