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.

There’s a particular kind of surrender that doesn’t feel like giving up, but it also doesn’t feel like determination. It feels like… floatation. Like a leaf that finally falls into the water.

Some children grow up with a name. Others grow up with a name and an asterisk—a quiet footnote that shapes identity, belonging, and self-worth. This Step 2 entry explores how the “asterisk child” learns to overexplain and how healing begins when you reclaim the whole story.

Healing isn’t about choosing one emotion over another. This is the moment I learned to hold grief and gratitude at the same time without thinking it meant I was failing.

There was a time I chased clarity like it was survival. I explained, defended, softened, and justified. Step 12 is where I stop convincing and start conserving—my energy, my peace, and my self-respect.