For the first time in my life, I had the time to devote to something for myself. I wanted to use that time to do something that mattered to me, for myself, for my sister, and for other survivors who may have carried their own stories in silence.
That was how Breaking the Silence began.
What I did not expect was how much I would learn about myself in the process. As I began writing and looking back on my life, I started to see connections I had not fully understood before. I could see more clearly how my childhood experiences continued to influence my life, the choices I made, the responsibilities I assumed, and the way I responded to the people and circumstances around me.
I have spent the past two and a half years writing and rewriting this book. During that time, I have looked closely not only at what happened to me but also at how I lived afterward. For years, I ran. I kept moving, working, and taking care of the people around me. I no longer run, but I am still a caretaker. That is part of who I am. What has changed is my understanding of where some of that came from and the difference between caring for others and carrying responsibility that was never mine.
Writing my story has also been therapeutic for me. Putting the memories into words, revisiting them, and seeing them from where I am today have helped me understand parts of myself I had not fully understood before.
Writing the book became more than telling what happened. It became a way to see the child I had been through the eyes of the woman I am today.
I began to understand why she watched so closely, why she took on so much responsibility, why she stayed silent, and, eventually, how she found the strength to say no.
There were also questions I had carried for years. Why didn’t I tell? Why didn’t my mother know? Did my father love me? Why did I feel responsible for so much?
Writing gave me a way to see those questions differently.
After a lifetime of silence, I was ready to tell my story.
I am not a writer by trade. I am a survivor by experience.