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I was the girl who became invisible, the one no one checked on, even when everything was falling apart. The one who slipped through the cracks in school, who stopped showing up, and no one noticed.
I’m a woman with ADHD and emotional depth who was supported on paper but still misunderstood by systems that were supposed to help. A daughter who didn’t get the chance to heal with her father but found her way back to her mother. A mother now, breaking cycles and becoming the parent I needed. A survivor of trauma who still carries stories, grief, and wisdom — and refuses to pretend it didn’t shape me.
I don’t write from a niche. I write from lived experience.
This space is for the ones who’ve been overlooked, underestimated, or forgotten — because I’ve been all three. It’s for the ones who carry too much and are just starting to realize how tired they are. The ones who’ve been strong for so long they forgot what it feels like to rest.
Here, you’ll find reflections, poems, journal pages, and pieces of truth — not to fix you, but to sit with you.
Because you were never too much.
You were never meant to carry it all alone.
And you were always worth noticing.