I almost didnāt share this because I thought youād judge me.
Hereās the part of my story I used to be ashamed of.
When I was 23, I moved back into my parentsā house after losing everything.
No job. No savings. Barely leaving my room.
One night, my mom found me sitting on the kitchen floor.
You need help, she said.
I know.
She sat beside me.
Then she whispered:
Youāve been through this before.
I looked at her.
What do you mean?