Pieces of Me: Why I Wrote a Book About Every Version of Myself I Once Tried to Leave Behind
For a long time, I thought healing meant becoming someone else. A calmer version. A more finished version. A version who no longer flinched at certain sounds, who didn't feel abandonment in her chest before her mind could name it, who had somehow outgrown the child, the teenager, the seeker, and the woman who nearly didn't make it through some of the nights she lived through.
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