What do we truly learn from deep inner reflection? When we look within ourselves, do we uncover the experiences that shape who we are?

I never knew writing could be so therapeutic. I still cannot fully describe the profound feeling that washed over me the first time I put pen to paper, just a few months ago. In that moment, I took the courageous step of sharing the most personal and painful horrors of my life. I did so in the hope of no longer carrying their weight alone — to know that someone else understood, and that the monster’s mask could finally be removed.

My sister took her own life because she was broken. She was only 27 years old and had struggled with suicidal thoughts and attempts since the age of 15. I miss her every single day.

Child abuse exists in our communities, often lurking in the shadows. It hides in plain sight, and my deepest fear is that too many people fail to recognize the signs — or simply look away because the truth is too painful. Yet it is that very pain that can spark real change. If we cannot protect the most innocent among us, then who are we? And if those same children cannot safely share their stories and express their pain without fear of judgment, how can they ever begin to heal?

My hope in writing this is for you to see me — and others like me — in the children around you: the quiet little girl sitting next to your own child in school, the boy on your son’s baseball team, the one who is mocked for not fitting in, or the one wearing a constant fake smile. As an adult, I still see my own face reflected in so many children’s eyes — the masked pain, the fear of what might happen if they speak up or step out of line.

We had no shield to protect us, and that reality should haunt every adult who allowed it to continue. For some, these truths are unwelcome — mere secrets and whispers best left unspoken in the name of “family.” But my sister’s life mattered. I am finished with the darkness. I will share my story, and I hope that through the horror, you will also feel the deep love we were fortunate enough to share. In the end, she saved me.