Every floor you rise, fear falls and love grows.
You are always on a floor. Not a personality, not a diagnosis — a floor. And you do not have to climb: there is an elevator, and it is the easy button.
Whatever floor you are on, you are choosing it. Perhaps not consciously — but you are choosing it, and you are choosing it because it meets a need. It is doing something for you. It always is.
That is not an accusation. It is the most hopeful sentence on this page, because it means the question was never what is wrong with me. The question is this:
What if there were another way to meet that need — one that let you make a different floor your emotional home?
Elevator — press a floor to stand in it
Perfect love casts out fear. You were never meant to climb this building — you were meant to be carried up it.