When I was 19, I wrote an Instagram caption about my complicated relationship with my mom (we’ll get into that later). To my surprise, it gained a lot of attention, and several people suggested I start a blog to share my life stories and experiences. Looking back, it’s incredible—and a little heartbreaking—that at just 19, I had already lived through so much that people wanted to hear more.
I’ve always liked the idea of writing a book, and now, at 28, more people than I can count have encouraged me to do just that. The problem? My childhood and young adult life were packed with so much trauma, drama, and confusion that the thought of revisiting it all is overwhelming.
The idea of trying to remember everything at once terrifies me, especially because there are long periods of my life that I simply can’t recall. It’s as if my mind has blocked out entire chapters just to survive. How do you write about memories that don’t exist? The thought alone makes me want to crawl under my desk and hide.
But maybe that’s exactly why I need to do this. Maybe the path to healing—and truly rebuilding my life—starts with facing the chaos and sharing my story, one piece at a time. Along with the fun and exciting parts of my current life and how I am working to build a life i deserve and cherish.
This is where my journey begins.
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