Growing Through It: A Journey to Healing

When people talk about childhood homes, they talk about warmth. The smell of

dinner. Laughter in the hallway. But when I think of ours…

I remember the quiet. Not the peaceful kind — the kind that

hums after a storm, when everyone pretends nothing broke. Our mother called

it “ keeping the peace.” But peace built on silence is just another

kind of war. My sister and I learned early how to disappear. Not physically —

just emotionally. We learned to nod, to smile, to change the

subject. To never mention that night. We grew up fast —