You’re holding something in your hands that is so much more than the ink and time it took to write.
This story is made of scars. Of breath held. Of tears swallowed. Of truths that once felt impossible to say out loud.
Writing it was hard. Letting it go might be even harder.
But I wrote this book because I believe stories have power. Maybe not to fix us, but to sit with us—in those deep, aching places we don’t always show.
To remind us we’re not alone in the dark. To bear witness to the things we rarely name— the pain, the trauma, the complicated love, the wounds that never fully close.
I didn’t write this book to make anyone comfortable. I wrote it because I needed to. And maybe—just maybe—you needed to read it.
So if you’ve ever felt like you’re too much, or not enough... if you’ve ever been broken and still dared to love again— this story is for you.
Thank you for picking it up. Thank you for staying with it. And thank you, most of all, for letting me be real with you.
