My Story: From Surviving to Living
Every story of healing begins in the place that hurt. In the moment when something inside us broke — or rather, kept breaking for years, so slowly that we never noticed when we stopped feeling. We stopped dreaming. We stopped being ourselves.
I, too, once could not feel.
I didn’t know how.
I grew up in a world that was not safe. In a home where words were sharper than a knife, and my mother’s silence hurt more than shouting. Where you had to be a grown-up before you had learned to write. Where being a child was a luxury I could not afford.
My body lived, functioned, carried out its duties — but my soul was locked inside a shell. Hard, cold, armoured. That was how I learned to survive.
Continued in the book.
