For a long time, I stayed quiet. Part of it was fear- fear of judgment, fear of being misunderstood, fear of “showing” too much. But I’ve come to understand something deeply true: our stories, especially the painful ones, were never meant to be buried but shared.
When I speak my truth, I offer others permission to do the same. When I say ” This happened to me, and I’m still standing,” someone else believes they can stand to. So how can my story and experiences help others?
By being real.
By being vulnerable.
By offering hope—not because everything is perfect, but because even in imperfection, there is purpose.

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