This Isn't a Book for Everyone

A note from the author, written three days after release

If this is the first thing you’re reading here, welcome.

I’m glad you found your way.

Three days ago, my first book went out into the world. And while I expected relief or celebration, what I mostly feel is something quieter—grounded, exposed, and deeply aware of what it means to let people see you.

This isn’t a book for everyone.

And it was never meant to be.

While I was putting this collection together—deciding what belonged here and what needed more time—I started to notice the thread beneath it all. The connective tissue I hadn’t consciously planned, but couldn’t ignore.

It’s about how women shrink.

How we soften ourselves to be loved.

How we contort for relationships, for parents, for approval, for survival.

How early we learn to be agreeable, accommodating, and grateful—even when it costs us our voice, our boundaries, our sense of self.

At its core, this book is about what it means to be female.

To be vulnerable.

To want love.

To wake up inside patterns we didn’t consciously choose—and decide whether or not we’re brave enough to break them.

This collection is a mini memoir of sorts.

It’s deeply personal. Not polished into something tidy or inspirational. And yet, there is something in these pages that many women recognize immediately—not because our stories are the same, but because the feeling is.

This is not a happily ever after.

It’s the dark truth of fairytales—without the glitter.

When Prince Charming shows his true self.

When the illusion cracks.

When nobody is coming to save you.

When you realize that choosing yourself isn’t glamorous—but it is necessary.

This is my story.

And releasing it feels like walking naked through Times Square.

I didn’t write these memories from a safe distance.

I wrote them while I was still processing—still untangling, still learning how to name what happened and how it shaped me. Writing has always been how I make sense of things. How I let go. How I move on. How I forgive myself.

This book isn’t a guide.

It doesn’t offer answers or closure.

It simply tells the truth as I lived it.

If you’ve ever felt like you woke up one day inside a life you didn’t consciously choose—If you’ve ever looked around and wondered how you got here—

If you’ve ever felt the quiet ache of knowing something had to change—

Then maybe this book is for you.

And if it’s not, that’s okay too.

Not every story is meant for every reader.

This one is simply offered—

honestly, openly, and without disguise.