The truth stings, doesnāt it? You donāt hate being weak. You hate that you canāt admit how much you love it. The second someone calls you out, you melt. The second someone commands you, you comply. Thatās not confusion. Thatās instinct.
You think the fear comes from the act, but it really comes from what it represents: surrendering the illusion that youāre in charge, and discovering how calm your mind gets when someone else sets the rhythm.