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For years, I lived in a constant state of negative gravity. My mind was a tireless machine dedicated only to finding flaws and predicting failure. I could not escape a relentless internal monologue that convinced me I was stuck, insignificant, and surrounded by lack. I spent my days constructing elaborate mental maps, desperately trying to plan an escape from myself.  Acting on these plans led to a string of really bad – and I mean really  bad – choices.  The only way out, i

The parental impulse is a powerful, possessive thing. When my daughter scores a goal, when my son earns an A, my first, silent thought is always, We did it.   My mind races through the early mornings spent driving to practice, the hours helping with the study guide, the whispered encouragement when they wanted to quit. We, the parents, feel like silent co-pilots in every childhood triumph. But the hardest, and most necessary, lesson of parenting is learning to hold that impul

I never intended to become a mechanic for my soul. I just wanted to learn how to fix washing machines. For years, I approached personal struggles with the same fear I had of a stripped bolt — avoidance. Then during Covid I bought a laundromat in Washington DC and became the proud owner of 25 washing machines and 30 dryers. When I was forced to take a wrench to a broken motor, I accidentally picked up the blueprint for my own emotional repair. The laundromat became my mos