There is always a why behind the things we say and do. This page’s posts attempt to show my early
years. My traumas go back as far as I can remember. Whether it was knowing I was fundamentally
flawed as a four-year-old or believing I was responsible for my own abduction, I couldn’t afford to blame
the adults.
I longed for safety. Still, I believed didn’t deserve it. I preferred to believe that I was evil. The only
alternative was to believe that of my parents. No halfway sane child could handle that. I was afraid all
the time. Sometimes, believing I was the problem was the only way to survive.
Winning Over Shame 