healing my inner child didn’t mean fixing her. it meant listening to her. writing this book brought me face to face with every version of myself — the little girl who needed safety, the teenager who rebelled to survive, the young woman who tried to become everything at once, and the version of

writing this book meant sitting with versions of myself I hadn’t visited in years. memories I thought were settled came back softly… and sometimes painfully. there were moments I had to stop writing and just feel — grief, tenderness, anger, compassion. revisiting my past wasn’t about reliving i