When I was younger, my mom took my brother and I to see a variety of doctors and mental health professionals to make sure we were “okay”. I’m not going to go into details, maybe another time, but let’s just say we didn’t live in the most peaceful environment. I went to priests, medical doctors, counselors, psychologists, psychiatrists, you name it, and they always ended up telling my mom that I was great. They would say, “Brooke is great and everything is perfectly normal and okay.” Suffice it to say, they just didn’t know. My mom didn’t know and I definitely did not know. They did not know how to read between the lines. They did not know how to get out of their heads, and I definitely did not know how to get out of mine.