My story starts long before Freebird. I grew up in a vibrant, unpredictable home shaped by alcoholism, where there was rarely a dull moment. It left me hyperalert and always questioning the nature of reality. I became skilled at reading people and sensing the mood of a room, a skill that later served me as a therapist, though I learned it the hard way.

Medical trauma ran through my family too. My sister had a serious head injury as a teenager, my grandmother and father both lost their vision, and mental health struggles ran deep. I got really good at handling crises. I was later diagnosed with ADHD, anxiety and depression, and discovered in college that I was dyslexic. Looking back, much of it was likely my nervous system doing its best to cope.

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For a while, I coped the ways many of us do. I numbed out, dissociated in various clever ways, stayed stuck in old protective patterns, and in the process became fiercely independent. But somewhere underneath, I knew this wasn’t my true path, and that knowing set me looking for another way.

I want to say it though, it wasn’t all hard though. There was also so much beauty along the way, too: love, friendship, laughter, and moments of real grace and meaning. All of it has taught me that what we carry can soften, and that freedom, however you wish to define it, is possible, even after hard things.