CHAPTER 6 :-
When my father remarried, I was twelve.
It did not feel like a new beginning. It felt like confirmation. Life would keep moving forward whether I was ready or not. Decisions were made around me, not with me. I was informed, not consulted.
The new woman was unfamiliar. She did not know me, and she did not try to. I did not expect her to. Expectations had already proven unreliable.
The house changed again. It felt stricter, more controlled, less forgiving. I responded by becoming more disciplined, more careful, more contained. Strength, to me, no longer meant confidence. It meant endurance.
I learned how to absorb discomfort without reacting. I learned how to exist without drawing attention. I learned how to survive without hoping someone would intervene.
That year, I stopped believing that someone would come and fix things.
I stopped believing that I needed fixing.