Not. Quite. Fatal.
How’s that for a zing to the heart?
Not. Quite. Fatal.
That’s a space I lived in for years, thinking it was acceptable, somehow, because I knew it could have been worse, because other people had it worse. And who was I to want better when life wasn’t great but it wasn’t quite killing me, either?
Not. Quite. Fatal.
“Suck it up,” the voice inside said. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not *that* bad. Stop thinking it’s all about you.”
Not. Quite. Fatal.
And then I realized… when you’re not quite dead, you’re not quite alive, either. That was a turning point.
I want to live this life, not just muddle through it.
I wish someone had told me earlier that we deserve not to endure, but to enjoy. We deserve a life you feel alive in. We deserve freedom.
If you need someone to tell you that like I did, I’m telling you now. You deserve freedom. Simple as that.
