Inflection Point

When the ache becomes too loud to ignore
Something shifts. Quietly. Unmistakably.

The inflection point is where the story you were handed starts to burn up in your chest.
Where the roles you were forced to play begin to choke.
Where the silence you swallowed starts to taste like poison.

This is the moment when repression slips, and something deeper breaks through—
Not to destroy you, but to free you.

Because the pain?
It's intelligence.
It's the body demanding truth.

Most people turn back here.
Patch it up. Numb it out.
But if you stay—if you listen—

This is about reclaiming what was stolen.

Not with vengeance, but with presence.
Not by returning to who you were, but by stepping into who you are now.

A sharp curve in the narrative where the old no longer holds.
A threshold.

And if you’re here, reading this,
Maybe this is yours.