A page from my book...

I had it all planned out. I was going to perform. I was going to be a performer for Cirque du Soleil. I spent most of my life in a smelly gym, flipping and twisting through the air, doing nearly impossible acrobatic skills. Since the age of eight, I trained gymnastics and when I was fifteen, I began to train the art of circus. My entire life changed when I left home at age sixteen to join the circus. Yes, I was still in school, but I spent every waking moment that I was not in school at the gym, training aerials, acrobatics, contortion, and much more. I was training about forty-five hours a week. Like I said, I had it all planned out. Or at least, it was all planned out for me. Until I left.

On May 4th, 2015, I walked away from that gym and never looked back. One might wonder why I seemingly gave up my future. The plans I had made, the friendships I had gained, the talent I had. It certainly seems as though I walked away from a great opportunity. Sometimes it does feel like that, however, I see it as finally removing myself from a very toxic situation. Living in a manipulative and controlling environment for four years of my life was no walk in the park. The numerous opportunities I had to be a normal person were whisked away from me the second I left home. Spending junior and senior year of high school training for something I only half-heartedly wanted. Missing prom. Going to a college down the street from where I was living, therefore not staying in a dorm and missing out on the full college experience. Instead, I did things like train with Cirque du Soleil artists, direct circus shows for First Night Boston three years in a row, write articles on contortion, and learn how to be a stunt double for film. All of those experiences were remarkable and it is hard for some to believe that I was willing to walk away from it all. Some people would say it was burn out. Some may say I wanted to take advantage of the college experience and move on to bigger and better things. There were a few rumors that went around when I left. But the truth, is that I was done. I was done with the secrets and the lies. I was done with the manipulation and the confusion. I was done with the abuse.

I spent most of 2015 and 2016 in treatment for a number of things, including PTSD. Being at that treatment center for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and my 21st birthday was exceedingly difficult in more ways than one. I started to dig deep within myself and began to discover who I am. I gained confidence in my abilities and even and even had moments of love and compassion for myself. Although I am still in the early stages of my journey of recover, I know that I want to use the experiences I have had to help others who are going through similar challenges. Something that truly helped me while I was in treatment was hearing how others fought through difficult times in their lives. It was humbling to hear others' stories and then to see them walking the path of recovery. It made it easier to believe that there is hope for a better life.

Recovery is not an upward slope. It is a roller coaster with many twists and turns and upside down moments. I struggle every day. But does the fact that I do not want to get up in the morning mean I won't? Absolutely not. I fight every day. Not just for anyone or anything. I fight for me.