I was a little child when I had my childhood stolen. I’ve spent my whole life learning how to piece myself back together."

When my mother died, I lost more than just her — I lost safety, love, and my identity. What came next was pain I couldn’t speak about. The ones who were meant to protect me became the source of my suffering. I learned to stay quiet, to survive, to disappear.
But somewhere inside me, something refused to give up. A flicker of strength. A whisper of hope.
This is my story — not just of what was taken from me, but of everything I’ve fought to reclaim. My voice. My healing. My life and an identity