The bars are invisible now. But you're still in the cell you built. Every 'I can't' and 'I shouldn't' and 'I'm not that kind of person.' These are prison sentences you gave yourself. The key was shame. The lock was fear. The walls were built one limiting belief at a time. The key was in your pocket the whole time. Just turn it. Step out. You're allowed. This is the part we don't talk about enough. The part where you realize your survival strategies have become your prison. The patterns that kept you safe then are keeping you trapped now. You're still responding to threats that don't exist anymore. Still protecting yourself from dangers that passed years ago. Your nervous system doesn't know the war is over. It's still scanning for enemy fire. Still sleeping with one eye open. Still ready to run, fight, or freeze at a moment's notice. And it's exhausting you. Draining your energy. Keeping you from the peace you think you should have earned by now. But here's what nobody tells you: he...