I lived in silence for so long, until my voice finally emerged. I spoke of the hurt, and it brought me comfort and freedom. I needed to free myself from the bondage I had carried for so long.
At 14, I grew up in a very dangerous environment, misled and misguided by those closest to me. I was the second oldest of 12 siblings, and I felt isolated. Reason and stability always seemed just out of reach.
In the midst of all this confusion, I searched for myself for a long time, trying to understand the anger and depression that I couldn’t define. I carried so much weight on my shoulders—my life was filled with anger, violence, addiction, and abuse. The system I grew up in didn’t seek to understand me; its focus was on punishment. I learned to live with turmoil and torment without sharing the burden.
It took me awhile to accept my reality, to live with patience for whatever lay ahead. Many years passed, and memories of what once was slowly faded into the distance. I lived in silence for so long, until my voice finally emerged. I spoke of the hurt, and it brought me comfort and freedom. I needed to free myself from the bondage I had carried for so long. After all I had been through, being able to open up felt like a sigh of relief. “Yet, the worth I was building within never faltered. Through it all, I remained steadfast—a patient brother, waiting, growing, and resilient.”
