Wow. I havent looked this far back in some time. Grateful to acknowledge the girl who got me where I am today! Thank you for reminding me of where I have come for :) Step One – Before I was born beneath the southern skies of Johannesburg, South Africa, a child of fractured homes, tangled stories, and countless “in-betweens.” My childhood was marked by confusion. There were multiple divorces, step-parents, and new siblings from both sides. My parents built new families, and somehow, I no longer fit anywhere. On the outside, I seemed like a sweet, kind, and beautiful little girl. But inside, I was lost , frightened, unseen, and alone. I grew up believing that life was something that simply happened to you. My habits reflected my pain: endless hours online or watching television, trying to escape the noise inside my mind. I had never learned how to feel. My father, though present, never expressed sadness, only anger, often shown through violence. And so, I too became angry, confused, and emotionally stunted. I was raised to believe that vulnerability was weakness and that love had to be earned through performance and perfection. Over time, this created a deep wound within me, a wound of unworthiness. I became insecure and hungry for approval, constantly trying to fill an invisible void. Step Two – The Shatter High school became a stage, and I played my role perfectly. I wore the mask of the confident, popular girl - “Courtney Bence,” the funny, beautiful, social butterfly. Everyone loved her, but no one knew me. I chased acceptance through attention, fashion, photos, parties, and boys but every time the lights went off, I felt emptier than before. My first relationship mirrored what I had seen growing up: betrayal, anger, and abuse. The man who raised me had cheated and hurt women, and naturally, I attracted the same dynamic. That relationship broke me open, depression started to settle in, and soon after, self-harm became my secret ritual. When it ended, I rushed into another relationship to fill the void, still drowning in unhealed pain. My depression worsened, but when I tried to speak to my parents, they couldn’t understand.