Irene Sleight

Some rooms were never built to hold you. Some stories were already in motion — and you were handed a part that was never yours. This is what it took to stop trying to fit inside the frame.

A couple of months ago, I asked my doctor to remove the word anxiety from my medical chart. It might not sound radical — but to me, it felt like freedom. Anxiety wasn’t my identity. It was a signal.

I loved to talk, lit up in conversation, genuinely loved being around others. But that very connection often spiraled into overwhelm. It felt like my body was allergic to people. I didn’t have language for it for a long time.

I’ve always been wired to feel life more deeply—mentally, emotionally, physically. But for years, I didn’t have the language for my experience. Diagnosed with ADHD in my twenties, I spent decades trying to make sense of my sensitivity, my panic attacks, and my constant search for calm in a world that felt too loud.