I used to adorn my worth in certifications, convinced the more I accrued the more of an expert I’d be. The more I studied, the greater my worth would grow and the emptiness of what I was actually trying to fill would subside. Trouble was, it didn’t matter how much I learned, I never felt like I had enough.

In the story I had written for myself, the selfless martyr always painted as priority. I am not an I but rather I belonged to other. I belonged to the service of healing, whatever was asked of me I did so perfectly. Wrapped my pride around the finger of meeting everyone else’s expectations, and never once established an expectation for myself.