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I used to struggle with trust issues and hadn't healed from childhood trauma. When I first came to London, I was sexualized and sold for my body, and I felt ashamed. My coping mechanism was to lie, as I hadn't found healing yet. But now, I realize that honesty is the key to healing. I've learned to be honest with myself, without the need to mask or people-please.

I survived years of domestic violent relationships and then found myself with the wrong crowd, but this experience has made me stronger. I've been a survivor of domestic abuse since I was 17.

This book marks the beginning of my journey as an author. As you read through its pages, I hope it brings you pure blessing and healing on your path to recovery from personal experience to educate and make awareness.

Chapter 1.

I believe it could be said that it wasn't the easiest upbringing, but it was an upbringing that allowed me to see life from various perspectives. My dad was a self-employed plumber and previously a postman, while my mother transitioned from being a factory assistant to a nurse and then a full-time carer for my disabled sister who has Rett Syndrome. The roles changed frequently as my sister became a top priority. Looking back on those days, it's evident how much my parents had to manage to keep things running. The household was constantly filled with responsibilities and hectic schedules. Despite the chaos, there was always a feeling of togetherness and strength in our home.

Chapter 2.

As my sister’s needs grew, we all adapted quickly. We learned to cherish small moments of normalcy amid the regular adjustments and accommodations required by her condition. It was during these times of adaptation that I began to understand the importance of empathy and patience. My sister was always in and out of hospital when I was a kid 13-16/17, numerous times a year with ammonia or influenza and other illnesses. I remember the countless nights spent in waiting rooms and the tired faces of my parents doing their best to stay strong. They rarely showed any sign of weakness, always making sure my sister felt loved and cared for. I on the other hand was struggling in silence with the pain of it all I knew the many logical lessons and reasons why I did not get as much help and attention I became very used to this. I felt as if I lived in the shadows, where my problems seemed insignificant compared to the struggles my sister faced. But in those shadows, I found strength. Caring silently for myself became a hidden skill, one that I relied on more than I realized. I discovered that resilience was not just about facing adversity, but also about quietly enduring it. This resilience served me well throughout my life, shaping my character and teaching me to appreciate the simple joys that often go unnoticed. Looking back, I realize how those years instilled a deep sense of responsibility in me. My sister's illness demanded so much attention that it pushed me to mature quicker than most, forcing me to navigate my path alone. Despite the solitude, I found a certain comfort in my independence. The solitude became a companion in itself, familiar and oddly reassuring.

I became an introverted child, an enigma to many, harbouring the complexities of a girl with ADHD. School was both a challenge and a sanctuary, where my mind could drift in daydreams or hyper-focus on a passion. A passion that became a special interest and never left me alone or feeling as if I was alone. I found escape in art, crafting worlds where my thoughts could roam freely, unaffected by the chaos around me. I started writing music at the age of twelve years old my whole family were struggling to have peace of mind and sanity due to our differences. Music became my solace, a language through which I could express what words often failed to convey. Unfortunately, my family went through very dark periods of mental health due to my sister’s condition and the loss they suffered internally from them knowing I may be the only one to achieve something in life. Despite the darkness, music illuminated a path forward for me. Music connected me to something greater, a world beyond the anguish at home.

Chapter 3:

I didn't discover that I had ADHD until I turned 21, so for a long time, I didn't understand why I was misunderstood. This realization affected me in ways others couldn't comprehend. I lost friendships and relationships because I was labelled as unintelligent, and my teachers didn't have much faith in me. I struggled in exams and speaking up about my needs. It was a very taboo topic growing up with mental health and neurological labels. I was extremely bullied in school and the saying “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” was not a saying I say is factual. Unfortunately, the abuse became susceptible towards me as I was navigating my boundaries and limitations I was always investing in men I thought I could heal; not realising I was putting myself in a constant pattern of neglect and most of my time wasn't aware of domestic abuse and the way over time can affect you to feel as if it's normal. Regardless, I found solace in the keys of the piano and the strings of the guitar.

The melodies I played resonated with my soul in a way that words never could. I soon found it to become a release to write about my experiences and use my emotional intelligence to let out trauma. Every note I struck was a step towards healing, a testament to resilience in the face of adversities. My compositions became a tapestry of my journey, weaving together the pain, confusion, and moments of clarity.

Chapter 4:

After the awkward teenage phases I still and soon enough became rebellious towards wanting to achieve what I believed was more my mother’s wish for me which was nursing. It became apparent that the volunteering in my younger years at the elderly home was shaping the beginning of health and social care direction. I ended up gaining many more experiences than I ever imagined. However later down the road it was more concerning when I dropped out of college. After achieving the bare minimum allowing me to continue what I preferred was work but work that allowed me to also learn rather than being stuck in a class room. This lead me to go into health and social care apprenticeship which I was determined was the way of which I wanted to persist in life. This would lead me into nursing. Eventually it became clear that this was more about my mother’s wish than my own. Never the-less I continued still not quite believing in my own abilities. The doubts lingered, but with every task and patient interaction, a burgeoning confidence began to take root. By the time I completed my apprenticeship, I realized something transformative: caring for others had indeed become a passion of mine but became a very sensitive and stressful job to pursue, pushing aside the notion to that was solely my mother's dream. While her influence was undeniably strong and helpful, my heart was now undeniably in sync with the profession of journalism and music. Growing up once unleashing my talent more unfortunately the sense of jealousy and hate would develope through friend groups, this made me very isolated and lonely. I don’t share this for pity; I simply realize that I was too soft and hadn’t learned to stop being a people-pleaser. I've now learned to redirect all the love and effort I put into others back into myself. This decision helped me bloom, creatively and personally, and I quickly found my footing in the world of writing of my experiences. This new path opened doors I never imagined, presenting opportunities to tell stories that resonated deeply with others.