Where did the insecurities come from, not sure I know, not sure they just appeared over night, more like this gradual accumulation of internalized messages. It is kind of like that analogy I made once about a coffee cup. When we are born, we are like this brand new coffee cup, but the longer we have it the more we notice the stains and the little tiny cracks and chips and imperfections that gather over time. It is not that the cup went from one condition over night to another, it just happened and then when we begin to see or more appropriately own our stuff then we can begin to do something about it, or at least choose to do something about it. I think for the longest time, I ate my feelings. I ate my words. I was scared to speak what I was feeling because of a fear of abandonment.