I started therapy.
I still work hard — but now it’s by choice, not because I’m bleeding myself to keep someone else comfortable.
I’m saving for a road trip next spring.
Just me. Open road. No lies.
Sometimes I catch myself calculating what I lost.
But the real cost wasn’t money.
It was how little I gave myself while giving him everything.
Now every dollar I earn stays where it belongs:
In my account.
In my life.
In my future.
Here’s the real question: how many sacrifices does it take before you realize you’re the only one making them?
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