…as my new reality.
I built my world from scratch, brick by brick, around the space left by my family’s absence. At first, it was a desolate landscape. But over time, it blossomed into something uniquely mine. I found solace in literature, losing myself in stories that weren’t my own, and in music, where melodies mended the fractures in my heart. I wrote, too—pouring out words that formed the shape of my pain, my loss, and my eventual resilience.
Spokane was kind to me, offering anonymity that allowed for reinvention. I became close friends with a group of artists who taught me that family could be chosen. They embraced me without questions, welcoming me into their fold without judgment. In their company, I discovered laughter again, the kind that fills your chest with warmth and makes you feel lighter.
