When I was a two-year-old child, my father decided to leave me and separate from my mother. Since that time, my mother raised me by herself, even though she made some attempts to rebuild her love life.

The choices she made were not the most suitable for her.

Nor for me.

The fact that I had a stepfather from the age of two to eleven might lead you to believe that he compensated the absence of my biological father and took on the role of a true parent.

But things didn't go that way.

Having a job that involved frequent travels, my stepfather was absent from my life. It was as if the story was repeating itself. However, that wasn't necessarily the issue. In the few occasions when he was present at home, you could witness a perfectly executed scenario in hell.

It's hard to reproduce those moments and I choose not to. But my mother's life, as well as mine, were not exemplary. Quite the opposite.

I wouldn't wish any child to witness disagreements between parents, nor to be present in violent or aggressive episodes between them.

At the age of eleven I grew up suddenly, because I didn't have a choice. I left everything behind, everything that was associated with the joy of being a child, and I became a support for my mother in finding a home for both of us within the seven days given by my stepfather as respite.

Then everything changed.

There were moments so difficult to endure, especially considering the age I had, which wasn't worthy of experiencing such hardships.

Multiple relocations, new neighbors, new friends, financial struggles – all of these contributed to understanding what it means to be reborn each time and to keep your head up.

The adolescent period wasn't a beautiful one, as I would have wished. Growing up with the idea that people are cruel and have hidden intentions, I despised them. I remember telling myself that I'd rather live among animals than among people.

I truly hated the human race.

I'm convinced that my hate was visible from the outside because I didn't excel in the friend area. High school was very difficult, and unfortunately, I don't look back on it with pleasure.

I hated the mornings when I had to go to school and face my classmates. I constantly felt misunderstood and judged for everything I said or did.

Everything was insane.

From the moment I finished high school, I breathed a sigh of relief. I longed for change, different people, different places.

In reality, I was running away from myself.

Not to mention the romantic sufferings I experienced. Being naive and dreamy, I fell in love very easily. I dreamed of fairy-tale romances, of meeting my prince who would understand and accept me for who I was. And we would live happily ever after, away from all the pain I felt.

But nothing was as I expected.

I've met men who took advantage of my naivety and had entirely different intentions. I believed in each of them and wholeheartedly dedicated myself, hoping that one of them would eventually be the chosen one.

For each of my sufferings, I started writing poetry, expressing in just a few minutes all the pain I had experienced over days or weeks…

My hands simply couldn't stop. With tears in my eyes, in my nocturnal experiences, I put on paper the most hidden emotions, far from the world's eyes.

The following experiences weren't what I desired either. In every man I met, I searched for what I had been missing as a child.

All the paternal love that was absent, the sincere embraces, the warm words…

I hoped that every man in my life would fill the voids left by my father. I hoped for affection and understanding.

I was seeking outside what I hadn't found within me.

I was looking for love.

But how could I find outside of myself what I couldn't recognize within me? We attract what we are; that's how the Universe works.

I dreamt of something I couldn't offer, something I wasn't.

I loved and I suffered. Then I loved again.

And once more, I suffered.

I suffered because I didn't understand what was happening to me. Why I attracted a certain pattern of people, why certain events kept repeating.

Life offers you similar experiences until you realize that nothing is coincidental. Until you start learning the lesson from that particular experience.

As long as you're blind, you'll keep hitting your head against the same wall.

Only by lifting the veil from your eyes will you begin to see.

I wanted to lift that veil when I realized that I hated myself. I despised myself for the suffering I caused to others, for the tears shed, and for the pain in their hearts.

And most of all, I hated myself for my own pain.

That intense and deep-seated pain, buried somewhere beneath a false impression that I was fine, that I was happy.

The happiness I felt was only due to external factors. It was a false happiness built on the latest clothing acquisitions, bags, or the food I consumed.

What I didn't realize was how short-lived this happiness was. I'd rather call it satisfaction than happiness.

Now I understand my past tendency to compensate for all my emotional needs through material purchases.

At the same time, I recognize how much attention I needed from the people around me, thinking that I impresse them with my clothing or attitude.

I wanted to turn my attention towards myself.

In reality, my attention was what I truly needed.

And the journey only begins when you feel like you can't endure it anymore, when there is repeated pain, when you desire a different life.

Change only happens when you intensely desire it.

And the first step is recognizing how much you need that change.

Understanding and developing yourself is a lifelong process. It's a fascinating journey filled with challenges, realizations, and undiscovered past traumas.

But isn't life about that? About change and evolution of the soul, about lessons learned and suffering endured?

Yet no lesson is truly learned until you hit rock bottom.

I am who I am today because I've been there. Because I've lived all the experiences mentioned above and because I wanted to understand why they happened to me.

I don't regret having these experiences.

It was a tough struggle, but it was worth every effort.

I'm proud.

…because we are not aware of light until we've discovered the darkness.

October 20th, 2023