In the quaint coastal city of New Bedford, Massachusetts, my journey began. However, my childhood was not confined within those city limits. I spent my early years traversing between the bustling streets of Massachusetts and the serene landscapes of New Mexico. It was during my time in New Mexico that my life took an unexpected turn. Circumstances beyond my control led me to become a ward of the state. As fate would have it, the Department of Children, Youth, and Families (CYFD) saw it fit for me to return to Massachusetts. Yet, my parents, for reasons unknown to me, vehemently opposed this decision. This disagreement ultimately led to me standing before the court, where my future hung in the balance. Growing up in an abusive household left lasting scars. Daily challenges were a constant presence, casting a dark shadow over my childhood. My father, burdened by his anger, resorted to abuse as a twisted coping mechanism. Yet, amidst the turmoil, I discovered solace in the written word. Writing became my escape, an instrument that helped me navigate the chaos, a voice that echoed amidst the noise. In the midst of chaos, it became music to my ears. Despite the adversity I had faced, my spirit remained unbroken. Writing became my sanctuary, a place where I could find solace and express my innermost thoughts and emotions. Through the power of words, I found redemption and the strength to move forward, leaving the shadows of my past behind. As a child, my freedom was limited, but my ability to think could not be taken away. I found peace in writing, even if I wasn't initially skilled at it. I was determined to express myself and be heard.
