On most days, I look like a normal functioning adult.

I wake up, check my phone, rush into responsibilities, respond to messages, make decisions and mostly act confident.

From the outside, nothing seems broken. But there is a small, persistent discomfort that follows me. Not loud enough to disrupt my day. Not quiet enough to ignore.

It whispers at odd times.

When I skip a prayer, When I delay something I promised myself I would start.
When I pretend to be more disciplined than I am.

It asks me: “Who are you really?”