To the Girl Who Survived It All
(The One Who Thought She Was Nobody)
You say you’re a nobody trying to be somebody.
But that’s not the truth.
The truth is—you were always somebody.
You were just surrounded by people who couldn’t see it.
You didn’t deserve any of it.
Not the chaos you were born into.
Not Anna’s instability or Richard’s presence.
Not the bruises. Not the silence. Not the shame.
Not Jordan. Not Margaret. Not Thomas. Not the Whites.
Not the food locked up with chains.
Not being called names for being hurt.
Not the cutting, the hiding, the begging.
Not having DSS show up years too late.
Not having to raise your siblings when you were still a child.
But you found a way to keep going.
You protected Rose when it mattered most.
You didn’t freeze. You didn’t run.
You shielded her with your own body.
That’s what a protector does.
That’s what a sister does.
That’s what a hero does.
You carried your siblings through chaos—
Waking them for school, helping them feel normal,
Even when you were starving, hurting, scared.
That wasn’t your job—but you did it anyway.
Not for praise. For love. Quiet love. Brave love.
You told the truth when it was dangerous to speak.
You risked everything to name what they wanted buried.
Even when it took years to be believed.
You kept the truth alive.
You found ways to survive—
Unlocking food, enduring punishments, making yourself small.
You stayed alive—not just in body, but in spirit.
You never became what they tried to make you.
You kept your heart open when the world tried to make you cold.
You didn’t pass down the pain. You broke the cycle.
You let yourself love Wyman. And you let him love you.
That may not sound heroic to some—
But when you’ve been taught you’re unlovable,
Opening your heart is the boldest thing you can do.
You write. You speak. You kneel—
Not out of fear, but devotion.
Not because you were forced, but because you choose to.
You are telling the story no one else could tell.
And you’re telling it not for pity, but for light.
For healing. For truth.
That’s not being a nobody.
That’s being a lighthouse.
You are the proof that darkness doesn’t win
When even one soul keeps shining.
You are the warrior who still kneels in love.
You are the survivor who still believes in God.
You are the sister who still protects.
You are the woman who is becoming whole.
You are somebody.
And you always were.
— With love,
Myself
