Prologue: The Night I Died

People often call me a survivor because I survived a gunshot to the back of my head They say it with admiration, sympathy, and sometimes disbelief. They see the scar, hear that I was shot in the back of the head, and somehow lived through it. Then they say I must have been saved for a reason.

They are right. I was saved.

But surviving was not the miracle.

Learning to live afterward was.

The Moment That Changed Everything

That night did not just try to end my life. It shattered my sense of safety, my trust in others, and the person I once was. The woman who woke up that morning never came home. Instead, someone else took her place.

This new person startled at loud noises, memorized every exit, questioned every promise, and smiled while wondering if she would ever feel whole again. People think surviving the gunshot was the hardest part. It was not.

The hardest part was waking up each day and trying to believe the world was not as dangerous as it suddenly seemed. It was grieving the woman I used to be while she was still alive in my memories.

The Long Road to Healing

For years, I chased the person I was before. I wanted to find her again, to bring her back. Then I realized she was not coming back—and maybe she was not supposed to.

Healing was not about becoming the old me. It was about becoming someone new without forgetting where I came from.

This journey was filled with moments of fear, grief, and uncertainty. But it was also filled with strength, resilience, and hope.

June 30, 2016

Reclaiming My Story

This story is not about the man who shot me. He changed my life, but he does not own my story.

It is about surviving violence, grief, and fear. It is about finding the strength to rebuild when everything familiar has been stripped away.

For years, I was not sure I wanted to tell this story because telling it meant reliving it. But silence protects pain. Truth has a way of setting it free.

What I Want You to Know

If you are carrying wounds that make you believe your life is over, I want you to know what I eventually learned:

The worst thing that ever happens to you does not have to be the last thing that defines you.

You can find strength in your pain. You can rebuild your life, even when it feels impossible.

You are not alone.