I just couldn't breathe. Not literally—my lungs worked fine. But somewhere between the Sunday morning worship service where I raised my hands in praise, the Monday boardroom meeting where I delivered ideas with a smile, and the Tuesday night dinner where I performed "fine" through exhaustion, I realized: I had no idea who I was anymore. I was suffocating in plain sight. Everyone thought I had it together. I knew the truth: I was drowning in a sea of masks. I'd been performing so long, I'd...