You're the one holding everyone else. The joy in the room. The one people call when things break. Sometimes you don't even do anything — your presence is enough. You pour into everyone. These 40 days, you get poured into. For the woman who's been everyone's light — and forgot to turn it toward herself. That's you. I know it is. What happens in 40 days One card a day. One wound. Named — finally. You'll catch yourself daily. "Arre, ye toh main karti hoon." Some days it'll feel like I read your mind. Some days it'll sting — the good kind. You'll journal. Not to fix yourself. To finally see yourself. After 40 days You won't be "healed." No one honest promises that. But the guilt around money, the pulling-back in business, the over-giving — you'll know the root. Not the symptom. The root.