I have a problem. It’s a problem a lot of people have, especially those who struggle to believe in themselves. The strange thing is that confidence isn’t something I lack. It’s something I buried. I buried it a long time ago. As a child, I learned that confidence could make you a target. Joy could make people resent you. Strength could attract the wrong kind of attention. So I did what many survivors do: I hid the brightest parts of myself.

Self‑correcting stops so many people from ever expressing themselves. I’ve known people who desperately wanted to write but couldn’t bring themselves to put down a single sentence out of fear of criticism. And honestly, the world encourages this. We worship materialism. Only things that make money are considered valuable. Creativity becomes a commodity instead of a calling. But this is exactly when you have to dig deep, awaken your inner rebel, and do it anyway.