It’s strange, isn’t it? How we lived with a monster all those years, unseen in plain sight. Love has that power, it covers decay, wraps it in illusion, paints over wounds with perfection’s brush. It builds a bubble, hiding us from the monsters we live with. I grew up in a broken home, walls built high, shielding what lay inside. I learned to wear my mask well; you’d never guess how shattered I was. Yesterday, I heard shouting from next door, angry, wild voices tearing through the quiet, and suddenly, I was a child again, gripped by the same fear, imagining the children inside, trembling like I once did. I…

Sometimes, it’s hard to pinpoint where a person begins. Who am I?  My name is said to be my identity, but it doesn’t tell you who I truly am. So let me try to give you a glimpse of me: I’m just a girl, shy, often weighed down by depression and anxiety. My mind races, overthinking everything, and when I’m nervous, I speak too quickly, stumbling over my words. I’m not fond of my voice or laughter, especially when they’re recorded, it makes me cringe. I don’t talk much, and I’m terrible at small talk, especially when the conversation doesn’t hold my interest. I worry about seeming rude, so I’ll…

I’ve always believed that our past shapes who we are, but for a long time, I tried to outrun mine until my feet got too heavy to carry me. Today, I’m taking the first step to stop running and start facing that past. This blog is my space to unpack my story, my childhood, my trauma, and the journey of healing that I am still struggling to find. My hope is that by sharing these pieces of myself, I can connect with others who may feel alone in their own stories and start putting together the pieces of myself that I’ve lost along the way. Growing up, I learned early…