I Faced the Numbers

Dear Delyara, Properly. Not in fragments. Not through dread. Not through quick app checks and private catastrophising. Not through that half-state where fear grows larger than reality because reality remains foggy. I sat down and looked. Every outgoing. Every payment. Every stupid little leak I had let go on too long. Every truth. It did not feel good. It did feel cleaner. That’s what made it a victory. Not that the numbers turned kind. That I stopped letting vagueness hold power over me. The body felt lighter afterward. Not because I had more money. Because I had more honesty.