Welcome to Confessions of a Self-Help Junkie

Or: How I Finally Realized I Didn’t Need Fixing

For years, I was hooked. Self-help books stacked on my nightstand. Podcasts in my ears while I washed dishes. Life coaches draining my bank account. Vision boards, affirmations, morning routines—I did all of it, convinced that if I just followed the right formula, I’d unlock some magical version of myself who had her shit together.

Spoiler alert: That ne…