Fuelled by today, this morning, all this … I don’t know. Either way, my head and my heart are so done carrying it all with me and letting it stand in the way of what I could have. Blocking me from trusting him, having faith in him.

Every scar, bruise, cut, wound, defilement of my body. Every punch, slap, kick and hand around my throat. Every man who took me against my will and every invisible mark left on me. Every piece of my shattered heart at the hands of my parents. Every ...