I came to believe I didn’t deserve goodness anymore, but after years, after so much therapy, after writing hundreds of thousands of words, tears dripping down my face and neck as I typed, I began to understand, really understand, that I am allowed to heal. I am allowed to be happy. I am allowed to do work I love, to celebrate, to feel joy and delight, to laugh. I’m allowed to invest in my own healing, allowed to protect myself, allowed to tend lovingly to myself in all sorts of ways.
