The Strength in Me :My Untold Stories

nships, and assault. The memories lingered, etched in her mind like scars on her skin. She never thought she'd fall victim to abuse. Not once, twice, let alone thrice. But lif

le spirit. I invite you to join her on a journey of unwavering honesty and vulnerability as she shares her untold stories of abuse, pain, and resilience. You will accompany her throu

that you are not alone. That you, too, can must

a beautiful blend of chaos and love, growing up with my parents and younger brother in a small apartment in Manhat

urs playing in Central Park, chasing each other down the streets and fantasizing about adventures beyond our neighbourhood. But when I turned 15, my life changed dramatically. My family decid

my studies and extracurricular activities. I joined the debate tea

hed with worry and fear. My brother and I tried to be supportive of each other, but it was difficult to see our mother in such pain. Life became difficult; simple tasks such as grocery shopping and meal preparation became daunting. My father worked extra hours to make ends meet, while I took on more responsibility at home. I had

ng in a sea of responsibility. However, I refused to give up. I knew I had to be strong for the sake of my

was stuck in a never-ending cycle of hospital visits. My grades began to deteriorate, and my love for art and music, which had always been my refuge, began to wane. I felt as though I was losing m

ds meet. That year, I reenergized, refocused, and rediscovered myself. When I finally arrived on campus, I felt like a new person. I was determined to make the most of my second opportunity. Just as everything seemed to be falling into place, disaster struck again. My father was diagnosed with a serious illness, and our world was flipped upside down once more. I felt as if I

ions, determined to make a better life for myself and my family. I knew that education was the key to unlocking our potential, and I

ovided better opportunities and a higher salary. I was torn between wan

accept her departure because Dad's health prevented him from working again. The day of her departure arrived, and I felt like my heart was shattered into a million pieces. I hugged her tightly, trying to memorize the feel of her embrace. "I would visit at any chance," she whispered in my ear. "And I will always be there

, struggling to get out of bed. I felt helpless as I watched him slip away. My mother would try to reassure us, saying that we were doing everything we could, but I could not get rid of the sense of impending doom. I knew my father's time was running out, and I was desperate to make the most of what we had left. My mother eventually had to leave her job to take care of my father full-time. His condition had deteriorated to the point where he required ongoing care and attention. My brother and I did our best to assist, because it was clear that my father needed us more than ever. My father was admitted to the hospital after his health deteriorated furthe

d us without reservation. A piece of me was ripped away, leaving a gaping hole that would never be filled. We spent the next few days in a daze, planning a funeral and trying to cope with our loss. But the pain was unbearable, and it seemed as if the darkness would never end. My father was gone, and I couldn't imagine life without him. The pain was exacerbated by my father's family's behaviour. They did not want my mother around, accusing her of abandoning him when he was ill. However, they did not recognize the sacrifices she had made for our family. If she had not left, I would not have been a

as right, as always. We had to keep moving forward, no matter how difficult things seemed. As I looked around our house, I thought about my father, the sacrifices my mother had made, and the difficulties we had encountered. I took a deep breath, feeling both the weight

d organizations that aligned with my passions, and slowly but surely, I found my place in the world again. I found happiness and success, but I knew that I