#GirlsInTheWilderness
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When “Home” is a Disappearing Act There is a specific kind of silence that comes with a heavy snowfall on Christmas Eve. It’s a suffocating, frozen silence that feels like the world has turned its back on you. At thirteen years old, I wasn’t waiting for the magic of the morning. I was a ghost Read more
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Thanksgiving. We are conditioned to picture warmth, a huge table, and the secure presence of family. But for some of us, that image is a cruel joke. For a broken, abused child, seeking comfort and restoration, the holiday only serves to illuminate the deepest, most painful truth: I had to run away from the place Read more
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What do you enjoy most about writing? For me, writing wasn’t just a passion; it was my salvation. I remember the times my mother would beat me and the days I went hungry. In those moments, I would eat the words on pages to feed my mind and regurgitate them to express myself. Writing became Read more
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The world had a lot to say about me. They wrote me off, gave me labels, and decided my future for me.My story began with a foundation of pain. At nine years old, I was abused by my family. By twelve, my own mother beat me and threw me out, leaving me to face the Read more
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I know what it’s like to be a girl in the wilderness.Not the kind of wilderness you read about in novels, but the real, raw kind. The kind I entered at twelve years old, when I ran away from an abusive, drug-addicted mother. My world became the streets, a desperate fight for survival that lasted Read more
