Some days, it’s all a glorious whirl—every look, every call, every little tap on the shoulder feels like a reminder that you matter. The world craves you, and you move through it effortlessly. But then, like clockwork, it tips. The same attention, the same questions, they suffocate. You find yourself retreating, suddenly hating the thing you once desired. You become the architect of your own overwhelm, watching as the life you built—brick by beautiful, burdensome brick—becomes too heavy to…