The Version of Me I Didn’t Go Back To

On restraint, grief, and the quiet work of not returning

There is a version of me that people still ask about.

She is the one who ran at a certain speed. Who said yes to everything. Who could manage a board meeting, a toddler’s meltdown, and a funding pitch in the same twelve-hour window and make all three look effortless. She was the version of me that people praised most, because she was productive, accommodating, and never, ever difficult.

She was also exhausted. And lonely in ways she could not admit to anyone, least of all herself.