Start Here

If you’re new here, this is the best place to begin. I explain what this blog is about, what it isn’t, and why I started writing.

Because I lived through things I couldn’t say out loud. The silence didn’t protect anyone. It just kept the lie warm.

Because being rewritten by someone else doesn’t erase what I actually lived.

I’m writing this because I lost more than time. I lost trust. I lost connection. I lost the right to tell my own story in real time.

I’ve spent years trying to prove I’m not who someone else said I was.

It’s about truth-telling. Not the polished, courtroom kind, but the private, midnight kind. It’s about honoring my own memory, my own pain, and my own survival.

Because if I don’t tell this story, someone else will, and they’ll get it wrong.

I’m writing this for anyone who’s been called crazy while they were bleeding quietly in the background. For anyone who survived without applause.

I’m not here to convince.
I’m here to remember. Out loud.

Who I’m Not Writing This For

I’m not writing this for people who need me to be quiet to stay comfortable.

I’m not writing it for the ones who stood by and said nothing. Or the ones who watched it happen and called it "not their place."

I’m not writing it for those who only believe a story if it’s loud or said with a straight face.

I’m not writing it for the family members who turned away. Or the ones who called me emotional instead of calling him out. If you needed me to stay silent to stay loyal, you were never on my side to begin with.

I’m not writing it for the person who rewrote me. Not for his image. Not for his shame.

And definitely not for his excuses.

This blog not a weapon and it’s not for debate. It’s mine.

And if that unsettles you, it’s because you were safer when I was silent.

What most people never saw was the part where I got up every day, went to work, smiled at meetings, met deadlines all while drowning in lies I didn’t have time to refute and silence I didn’t know how to break.

Fighting for clarity in private while holding down a full-time job in public is its own kind of quiet war.

I didn’t fall apart. I compartmentalized survival.

Part of this process is also about modeling something different for my children. Now that I’m in a marriage built on honesty, commitment, and real partnership, they get to see what it actually looks like when love is safe, steady, and true.