For most of my life, I thought shame was something I caused. A moral failing. A personal flaw. A reflection of who I was at my core.

Every dysfunctional family has its own zodiac, its own constellation of roles that orbit around the unspoken truth everyone’s pretending not to see. And in almost every constellation, two stars shine the brightest: the Golden Child and the Black Sheep.

There’s a strange moment in adulthood when you realize that belonging is no longer something you chase; it’s something you choose. But only after you’ve lived through enough rooms where you were tolerated at best, misunderstood at worst, and miscast somewhere in between.

Some people grew up in families where their existence made sense at a glance. They spoke and were understood. They felt something, and it was believed.