The part that scored lowest is not your weakness. It is the part your life has learned to route around.
Every man has an area the rest of his life quietly adjusts around.
It does not usually announce itself as a problem. It shows up as a pattern. A reflex. A story you keep obeying. A place where your own eyes do not reach.
The Read found yours and named it. What it could not do — what nothing automated can do — is look with you from the outside, in one honest room, long enough for the pattern to lose some of its authority.
No eye sees itself.