I grew up in a small town in Arkansas. From the outside, our life may have appeared ordinary, but inside our home, unpredictability was normal. Alcohol, anger, conflict, and emotional neglect created an environment where I never knew what to expect. Even as a young child, my body was learning to stay alert. I experienced severe stomachaches and nausea when I knew my father was coming home because I had learned to anticipate conflict before it happened.

I also grew up deeply isolated. I was rarely allowed to spend time with friends or participate in the everyday experiences most children take for granted. After being removed from school in the third grade, I largely had to educate myself. I eventually earned my high school diploma at sixteen, but those years left me feeling alone, unseen, and responsible for surviving circumstances I was far too young to understand.

At eleven years old, I experienced sexual abuse by someone my family trusted. When I found the courage to speak about it, I did not receive the protection, comfort, or reassurance every child deserves. Instead, I was blamed and encouraged to forget what happened. I carried shame that was never mine and began believing painful things about my worth, safety, and identity.