About
WHO AM I?
I'm still figuring out who I am.
I'm 52, and the last 30 years of my life were built on something I didn't know wasn't real. I could tell you who I used to be, but that person is gone. Certain events changed me in ways I never asked for. They altered how I see the world and forced me to rebuild myself from pieces I barely recognize.
I'm not here to offer a neat conclusion or a polished version of myself. I'm here because I'm learning to live with what happened — and with who I'm becoming because of it.
I carry regrets. I carry anger. I carry the shock of being treated in ways no one deserves. Some days it feels like the path I was on closed behind me, with no way back.
I spent decades being managed instead of known. I'm done with that. What I write here isn't therapy, and it isn't advice — it's an accurate account, told by the person who lived it, without the softening I used to think I owed everyone else.
One thing I do know is I love writing, and I am nt going to stop anytime soon!
WHAT HAPPENED IN MEXICO?
This is the big question — what really did happen in Mexico?
I ask myself that over and over again. It’s not as simple as one might perceive. A lot happened in a very small space of time, and yet our lives completely and utterly fell apart.
This is what all my writing circles around: What really did happen.
I can write what I remember, but the deeper layers — the parts beneath the shock and fear — I cannot confirm. I can only speculate, and speculation is not the same as truth. They are two entirely different things.
So here I am, sharing my stories — and with that, maybe someone will enlighten me one day.