![TW: Suicide, Depression, Sexual Assault
I hope you'll sit down with me a bit because this year is so personal for me. I turn 40 this year. And I'm more excited about this birthday than any birthday before it. You might be wondering why.
Honestly, as a kid and young adult, I never thought I'd make it to 40. I figured I'd be dead before I hit this milestone.
I grew up in a fairly dysfunctional situation. I have a teen mom and am also the product of rape. My mom and her mom, my Nanny, did not get along, which led to me often being a pawn piece in their game of chess and me working hard to be the adult that not only diffused their conflicts (which were, at times, physically violent), but also helped them heal from their abuses.
The cycle of abuse was strong in my family. My Nanny was abused. My mom. Me. I was first sexually abused at the age of 4 or 5. I remember when my mom found me being abused and blamed me for what was happening with a significantly older boy. She shamed me. My Nanny didn't believe me. I was so confused and so upset with myself. It started me down a very long road to recovery because from that point on, my disordered relationship with sex and shame and my self worth would become my Everest.
My mother attempted suicide many times during my life. Her desire to die was so palpable, but so was her guilt over it. As a young person walking into the hospital to visit my mom, who slit her wrists, it didn't even dawn on me that this was not a normal experience. For me, it felt normal. It felt ordinary. Living with a resting heart rate right below panic attack was just my baseline.
By the time my teen years arrived, my desire to stay on this Earth was slim. I didn't understand why I should want to, I had no concept of my own self worth, and I didn't have any people in my life who could model healthy relationships with themselves, with their loved ones. All around me, I saw addicts, people who were deeply depressed, people in abusive and/or dysfunctional marriages. Or worse, people pretending to be happy people. But my empathy was so high so I could always feel through that mask.
[More in comments]](https://geekgirltravel.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/325840996_212884384546595_3269018963513166867_n-256x320.jpg)
![TW: Suicide, Depression, Sexual Assault
I hope you'll sit down with me a bit because this year is so personal for me. I turn 40 this year. And I'm more excited about this birthday than any birthday before it. You might be wondering why.
Honestly, as a kid and young adult, I never thought I'd make it to 40. I figured I'd be dead before I hit this milestone.
I grew up in a fairly dysfunctional situation. I have a teen mom and am also the product of rape. My mom and her mom, my Nanny, did not get along, which led to me often being a pawn piece in their game of chess and me working hard to be the adult that not only diffused their conflicts (which were, at times, physically violent), but also helped them heal from their abuses.
The cycle of abuse was strong in my family. My Nanny was abused. My mom. Me. I was first sexually abused at the age of 4 or 5. I remember when my mom found me being abused and blamed me for what was happening with a significantly older boy. She shamed me. My Nanny didn't believe me. I was so confused and so upset with myself. It started me down a very long road to recovery because from that point on, my disordered relationship with sex and shame and my self worth would become my Everest.
My mother attempted suicide many times during my life. Her desire to die was so palpable, but so was her guilt over it. As a young person walking into the hospital to visit my mom, who slit her wrists, it didn't even dawn on me that this was not a normal experience. For me, it felt normal. It felt ordinary. Living with a resting heart rate right below panic attack was just my baseline.
By the time my teen years arrived, my desire to stay on this Earth was slim. I didn't understand why I should want to, I had no concept of my own self worth, and I didn't have any people in my life who could model healthy relationships with themselves, with their loved ones. All around me, I saw addicts, people who were deeply depressed, people in abusive and/or dysfunctional marriages. Or worse, people pretending to be happy people. But my empathy was so high so I could always feel through that mask.
[More in comments]](https://scontent-lax3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.29350-15/325840996_212884384546595_3269018963513166867_n.webp?stp=dst-jpg&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=8ae9d6&_nc_ohc=hGST7V42vaAAX_IdhNa&_nc_ht=scontent-lax3-1.cdninstagram.com&edm=ANo9K5cEAAAA&oh=00_AfDCILQCq8c045LzUFflJUmLyRPvM2TQFYiv8G2XNKYzOg&oe=63D950B9)
![TW: Suicide, Depression, Sexual Assault
I hope you'll sit down with me a bit because this year is so personal for me. I turn 40 this year. And I'm more excited about this birthday than any birthday before it. You might be wondering why.
Honestly, as a kid and young adult, I never thought I'd make it to 40. I figured I'd be dead before I hit this milestone.
I grew up in a fairly dysfunctional situation. I have a teen mom and am also the product of rape. My mom and her mom, my Nanny, did not get along, which led to me often being a pawn piece in their game of chess and me working hard to be the adult that not only diffused their conflicts (which were, at times, physically violent), but also helped them heal from their abuses.
The cycle of abuse was strong in my family. My Nanny was abused. My mom. Me. I was first sexually abused at the age of 4 or 5. I remember when my mom found me being abused and blamed me for what was happening with a significantly older boy. She shamed me. My Nanny didn't believe me. I was so confused and so upset with myself. It started me down a very long road to recovery because from that point on, my disordered relationship with sex and shame and my self worth would become my Everest.
My mother attempted suicide many times during my life. Her desire to die was so palpable, but so was her guilt over it. As a young person walking into the hospital to visit my mom, who slit her wrists, it didn't even dawn on me that this was not a normal experience. For me, it felt normal. It felt ordinary. Living with a resting heart rate right below panic attack was just my baseline.
By the time my teen years arrived, my desire to stay on this Earth was slim. I didn't understand why I should want to, I had no concept of my own self worth, and I didn't have any people in my life who could model healthy relationships with themselves, with their loved ones. All around me, I saw addicts, people who were deeply depressed, people in abusive and/or dysfunctional marriages. Or worse, people pretending to be happy people. But my empathy was so high so I could always feel through that mask.
[More in comments]](https://scontent-lax3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.29350-15/325825763_1253729068877935_4452180790133285637_n.webp?stp=dst-jpg&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=8ae9d6&_nc_ohc=W_1SsytodZgAX_hPL41&_nc_ht=scontent-lax3-1.cdninstagram.com&edm=ANo9K5cEAAAA&oh=00_AfAy181X1Jwg73Sn1_odHBw5KCLbSBrPcw5ZNKhfTIBN-w&oe=63DA976A)
![TW: Suicide, Depression, Sexual Assault
I hope you'll sit down with me a bit because this year is so personal for me. I turn 40 this year. And I'm more excited about this birthday than any birthday before it. You might be wondering why.
Honestly, as a kid and young adult, I never thought I'd make it to 40. I figured I'd be dead before I hit this milestone.
I grew up in a fairly dysfunctional situation. I have a teen mom and am also the product of rape. My mom and her mom, my Nanny, did not get along, which led to me often being a pawn piece in their game of chess and me working hard to be the adult that not only diffused their conflicts (which were, at times, physically violent), but also helped them heal from their abuses.
The cycle of abuse was strong in my family. My Nanny was abused. My mom. Me. I was first sexually abused at the age of 4 or 5. I remember when my mom found me being abused and blamed me for what was happening with a significantly older boy. She shamed me. My Nanny didn't believe me. I was so confused and so upset with myself. It started me down a very long road to recovery because from that point on, my disordered relationship with sex and shame and my self worth would become my Everest.
My mother attempted suicide many times during my life. Her desire to die was so palpable, but so was her guilt over it. As a young person walking into the hospital to visit my mom, who slit her wrists, it didn't even dawn on me that this was not a normal experience. For me, it felt normal. It felt ordinary. Living with a resting heart rate right below panic attack was just my baseline.
By the time my teen years arrived, my desire to stay on this Earth was slim. I didn't understand why I should want to, I had no concept of my own self worth, and I didn't have any people in my life who could model healthy relationships with themselves, with their loved ones. All around me, I saw addicts, people who were deeply depressed, people in abusive and/or dysfunctional marriages. Or worse, people pretending to be happy people. But my empathy was so high so I could always feel through that mask.
[More in comments]](https://scontent-lax3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.29350-15/325521449_841253413650355_1082411702875442231_n.webp?stp=dst-jpg&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=8ae9d6&_nc_ohc=x8XekIICedoAX9No7yI&_nc_ht=scontent-lax3-1.cdninstagram.com&edm=ANo9K5cEAAAA&oh=00_AfDVeZEUl9FVjSj3WTZykesOExMLUyh87vSObxL4nmbvBA&oe=63DAA986)
![TW: Suicide, Depression, Sexual Assault
I hope you'll sit down with me a bit because this year is so personal for me. I turn 40 this year. And I'm more excited about this birthday than any birthday before it. You might be wondering why.
Honestly, as a kid and young adult, I never thought I'd make it to 40. I figured I'd be dead before I hit this milestone.
I grew up in a fairly dysfunctional situation. I have a teen mom and am also the product of rape. My mom and her mom, my Nanny, did not get along, which led to me often being a pawn piece in their game of chess and me working hard to be the adult that not only diffused their conflicts (which were, at times, physically violent), but also helped them heal from their abuses.
The cycle of abuse was strong in my family. My Nanny was abused. My mom. Me. I was first sexually abused at the age of 4 or 5. I remember when my mom found me being abused and blamed me for what was happening with a significantly older boy. She shamed me. My Nanny didn't believe me. I was so confused and so upset with myself. It started me down a very long road to recovery because from that point on, my disordered relationship with sex and shame and my self worth would become my Everest.
My mother attempted suicide many times during my life. Her desire to die was so palpable, but so was her guilt over it. As a young person walking into the hospital to visit my mom, who slit her wrists, it didn't even dawn on me that this was not a normal experience. For me, it felt normal. It felt ordinary. Living with a resting heart rate right below panic attack was just my baseline.
By the time my teen years arrived, my desire to stay on this Earth was slim. I didn't understand why I should want to, I had no concept of my own self worth, and I didn't have any people in my life who could model healthy relationships with themselves, with their loved ones. All around me, I saw addicts, people who were deeply depressed, people in abusive and/or dysfunctional marriages. Or worse, people pretending to be happy people. But my empathy was so high so I could always feel through that mask.
[More in comments]](https://scontent-lax3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.29350-15/325583184_1392385928269097_2930411512082814624_n.webp?stp=dst-jpg&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=8ae9d6&_nc_ohc=fXKNgkP48tYAX_lDPc_&_nc_ht=scontent-lax3-1.cdninstagram.com&edm=ANo9K5cEAAAA&oh=00_AfB1jALDbOMBxwGhrFOcn8A__W0a0GHsIgqqkfnVleWEYQ&oe=63D9EFD8)
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At 5 years old, I fell in love with the art of photography. While on a trip, my grandmother handed me a camera and I ended up taking better photos than any other adult there. That one moment started me on a journey that is such a blessing in my life.
What started out as just taking photos became learning to develop my own film. And then using Lightroom and Photoshop to edit my digital photos. From film to digital, ever photo is an opportunity to document a moment in history and keep a memory alive forever.
Read all about my love of being a shutterbug and hopefully learn a little something along the way.
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