At 30, I figured I might be able to live another decade or so before facing a mid-life crisis. But it's here now.

To maintain a reputation of being nice, and to continually please other people, I’ve hidden so much of my true self. And it's making me miserable.

I spent many sad and painful days wishing I could live a normal life, not knowing (or actively ignoring the fact) that normal lives don't offer all that much to the world.