Trauma never really goes away. It doesn’t fade like a bad memory or disappear with enough time. It becomes part of you, stitched into your skin, carried in your bones. At first, that reality felt like a life sentence—like I would always be chained to what happened to me. The abuse. The lies. The metal fences.
 
But, over time, I learned that trauma doesn’t just take—it changes. It gives life a different meaning, one I never asked for, but one I had to learn to live with. My pain became a lens through which I see the world. It made me notice the shadows, but also made me sharper at noticing the light. It forced me to create, to speak, to find ways to turn suffering into something I could shape rather than something that only shaped me.
 
The truth is, I will never be free of trauma, the dark thoughts, the nightmares. But I now my use my pain to write, create, connect and remind people that they are not alone and that things, honestly, do get better.