To Forgive is Divine. To Write It Down is Survival.

A few of you might be nervous to read this. That is understandable. But you do not need to be.

This is not to attack anyone. It exists because I stopped waiting for permission to speak. For a long time, I stayed quiet so others could stay comfortable.

So no one had to pick sides. So no one had to face the difference between what they were told and what actually happened.

To the person who stood by me through the fog, who never rushed my healing or asked me to make it easier for them: thank you.

You made room for this voice to return. You gave me space to grieve, to grow, and to put words to things I could not speak before.

Your steadiness made this possible.

What I share here is what I lived. Some of it may be difficult to read. Some of it may challenge what you were told.

You are not required to read it. But if you do, know that I wrote it with care, with boundaries, and with more restraint than most people will ever realize.

I am not here to make anyone uncomfortable. But I will no longer protect a version of the past that erased me.

The stories here are mine.

And the right to speak without shame belongs to me now.

This is my personal account and reflection.