I’ve always been a rule-following “good” girl. As the sensitive, youngest child in a loving, but dysfunctional Christian home, I quickly slipped into the role of peacemaker and people pleaser. My mother suffered from an untreated mental illness. On top of that, extended family issues were complicated and nightmarish at times. More than anything else, I longed for validation and stability. I stuffed my own opinions and feelings. I worked hard to earn my worth. The most “rebellious” thing I ever did was get my ears double pierced. Crazy times. But my “good girl” persona came at a high cost. I …
