I used to think that if I were “mature” enough or “good” enough, I could keep the world from burning. I traded marriages, jobs, and my own sense of self just to belong. But C-PTSD doesn’t give you a seat at the table; it just keeps you in a defensive crouch. This post is about my shift toward a new kind of honesty: judging people by what they do, not what they say. Because at the end of the day, impact trumps intention every time.