Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the shell in my hand, feeding it my anger and frustration, my fear, my loneliness, my own self-defeat. I am Tess. I am strong and confident. There is no room for shame. I give it to the shell. I am beautiful and kind. There is no room for insecurity. I let the shell have that too. I am powerful. I am wanted. I am loved. There is no room for doubt. Giving the shell one last squeeze, I open my eyes and gaze out at the water. I watch the waves crash in once, twice, the white caps frothing against the sand as the water laps at my toes. Taking a deep breath, I cock
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