Thorns I’ve Written Through”.

For years, I stayed quiet to keep the peace — but that peace was a prison. These journals hold the truths I was never allowed to say out loud.

They begin in the shadows of family abuse and continue through the trauma of life and ended with surviving my husband’s manipulation, emotional torment, sexual violence, and the drug-fuelled nights I tried to rationalise as love. I wrote through gaslighting, survival, and grief, until the final straw.

This when every mask he wore began to fall, and everyone else around me showed their true colours.