On the cast your body built before you had language, and the bone that healed underneath Look. That full-body lockdown your chest does when someone gets tender with you… that thing where your sternum drops a metal gate, your jaw bolts, and your breathing goes so shallow your lungs file it under “we’re not doing feelings today.” The thing you’ve been calling “being private.” The thing your last three therapists diplomatically categorized as “avoidant attachment” while your hip flexor in the back row was waving its hand like a kid who actually knows the answer but nobody’s calling on. That’s a cast. Your body poured it around your chest before…