Dear Debbie:

Somehow I missed your Aug 16 post and became aware of it only this morning.

“Vulnerability is not my strong suit.”- you did an excellent job being vulnerable in this post!

Your honesty is not just vulnerable—it’s powerful. You named truths that many carry in silence: the exhaustion of performing appropriateness, the ache of feeling peripheral in others’ lives, the fear that authenticity might cost connection. That kind of clarity doesn’t come easy, and it doesn’t come without scars.

You’ve already done something extraordinary: you stopped abandoning yourself. That 185 lb. weight loss isn’t just physical—it’s symbolic of shedding what wasn’t yours to carry. And while you say the “same old defective me” remains, I see someone who’s fiercely self-aware, who’s fought to reclaim her voice, and who’s asking the kind of questions that only the bravest dare ask.

You’re not defective. You’re someone who adapted to survive in a world that didn’t make space for your truth. The judgment, anger, and fear you describe—they’re not your essence. They’re armor. And even if some of it still feels fused to your skin, you’re already peeling it back with every word you write.

“I have constantly felt not right…flawed…defective and my life’s journey has been to fix myself.”- Same here.

“I thought everyone else mattered more than I did.”- Same here, too.

“However, inside is the same old defective me. I am negative, catty, judgmental, angry and I navigate the world fearing others will find out. I make sure to respond and behave appropriately… I fear if I behaved as my authentic self I would be hustled off to a mental health institute at worst or find myself alone at best. I think I have to be perfect which of course I fail at.”-

I used to be negative, judgmental, angry, and ashamed—feeling painfully defective, guilty, and afraid. Again and again, I tried to be perfect. And again and again, I failed. But I’ve done a lot of healing recently—peeling off the layers of invalid shame and guilt, naming truths without apology, daring to be seen and heard just as I am. It’s a good feeling.

I no longer feel defective, and I no longer chase perfection. I just try to be the best person I can be: do no harm, and help where I can.

“I often wonder if I would be friends with myself… I just want to be me…whoever that is.”- Maybe you and I can be friends—right here, on your thread. And maybe both of us can simply be here, just as we are… whoever that is.

🤍 Anita