Let’s welcome @Kimberly Balogh to the community.

I was five years old when I learned a word that would haunt me for decades. Jezebel. I didn’t know what it meant. I only knew my mother was being taken away in a police car. I only knew I was crying. I only knew I was running after her, begging her not to leave. And I only knew that before the car door closed, she looked at me and said: “This is all your fault.” At five years old, I believed her. I believed I was bad. I believed I wasn’t worthy. I believed I wasn’t lovable. I believed bad girls get left behind. For years, those beliefs followed me. Through foster homes. Through abuse. Through addiction. Through relationships. Through every place I searched for love while secretly believing I didn’t deserve it. What I know now is this: A wounded child will spend a lifetime trying to prove they are worthy of love. Until one day they realize they always were. Today, I am not that little girl standing in the rain. I am a mother. A grandmother. A survivor. A healer. An author. And I wrote the book I wish that little girl could have read. 📖 Writing Into the WoundThe Little Girl Who Survived Because healing begins the moment we stop carrying shame that never belonged to us. If you have ever felt abandoned, rejected, unseen, or not enough, this book is for you. ❤️ If this speaks to your heart, leave a comment with one word you needed to hear as a child. Mine was: “Protected.”