Cracks.

What part of yourself are you running away from the most?

Your angry self?
Your depressed self?
Your envious self?
Your anxious self?

The more you try to keep these parts of yourself hidden, the bigger they become.

Eventually, they crack your seemingly calm surface and escape in ways that feel out of character.

They stop being just emotions —
they become a verdict of who we are.

“My anger proves I’m a bad mother.”
“My sadness means I’m weak.”
“My anxiety means I can’t be trusted.”

Soon, your self-talk sounds like this:

“Other parents don’t scream at their kids — what’s wrong with me?”
“I can’t tell anyone this. They’d judge me.”
“If I fail, it means I am weak.”
“What if I never get back up?”
“I will suffer forever.”
“I’m just not as good as other people.”

These emotions begin to feel dangerous.

They threaten our identity
(“I’m a loving mother.”)

They threaten belonging
(“No one will love me like this.”)

They threaten safety
(“If I let this out, I’ll lose control.”)

So we start telling ourselves:

“I must not show this emotion in public.”

And eventually:

“I must not let this emotion exist at all.”

That’s when the emotion leaks —
the anger, the depression, the envy, the anxiety.

And each leak seems to confirm the story we’ve been telling ourselves all along:

“I am unlovable.”