Survival doesn't end when you escape.
That's the truth no one tells you when you're busy just trying to make it through. You think once you're out, once you're safe, once you've rebuilt some version of a life: that the hard part is over.
Then hell comes back.
Not the same way it showed up the first time. It's sneakier now. It shows up in a smell, a sound, a tone of voice. It shows up when someone gets too close or when you're left too alone. It shows up on a Tuesday afternoon when you're doing something completely ordinary, and suddenly your chest tightens and you can't breathe.
That's what my next book is about.
The Girl That No One Claimed told the story of what happened. Foster care. Abuse. The kind of childhood that should break a person but somehow doesn't. It was about learning to survive in a system that didn't protect me, in homes that didn't want me, and finding ways to keep going anyway.
Writing that book was hard. Reliving it was harder.
But it needed to be written. Because there are too many kids like I was: invisible, unclaimed, surviving in silence. And there are too many adults who grew up that way and think they're the only ones still carrying it.
You're not.
The Girl That No One Claimed: When Hell Comes Back picks up where survival leaves off.
It's about the years after you escape. The years when you're supposed to be fine now. When people expect you to have moved on because you're an adult, you have a job, maybe a family. You look okay from the outside.
But inside, you're still fighting battles no one can see.
This book is about triggers. About why trauma doesn't stay in the past just because you want it to. About the long, messy, frustrating work of adult healing: and why it's worth it even when it feels impossible.
Triggers are your body's way of remembering what your mind tried to forget.
They're not weakness. They're not you being dramatic or broken or unable to get over it. They're your nervous system doing exactly what it was trained to do: protect you from danger.
The problem is, your body doesn't always know the difference between past danger and present safety.
So when something reminds you of what happened: even something small, even something that wouldn't bother anyone else: your body reacts like it's happening again. Right now. In real time.
Your heart races. Your hands shake. You feel like you need to run or fight or disappear. You might not even know why. But it came back as a person.
That's hell coming back.
And if no one ever explained this to you, you might think you're losing your mind. You might think healing isn't working. You might think you're just going to feel this way forever.
You won't.
Here's what I've learned about healing from childhood trauma as an adult.
It doesn't happen in a straight line.
You don't just decide to heal and then get better every day until you're fixed. Some days you feel strong. Some days you feel like you're back at square one. Some days you do all the right things and still end up on the floor crying for reasons you can't explain.
That's normal.
Healing looks like:
Taking two steps forward and one step back
Learning the same lesson multiple times before it sticks
Celebrating small victories that no one else understands
Forgiving yourself for not being further along
Showing up for yourself even when it's hard
You can't always avoid triggers. Life doesn't work that way.
But you can learn to work with them instead of against them.
Name what's happening. When you feel triggered, pause. Say to yourself: "This is a trigger. I'm not in danger right now. My body is remembering something from the past." Naming it creates distance between the memory and the present moment.
Ground yourself in the now. Use your five senses. What do you see, hear, smell, taste, touch right now? Describe your surroundings out loud if you need to. This reminds your nervous system that you're here, not there.
Breathe like you mean it. Not the shallow panic breathing. Slow, deep breaths that fill your belly. Four seconds in, hold for four, four seconds out. It sounds simple because it is. It works because it tells your body the threat is over.
Don't judge yourself for having feelings. You're not weak for being triggered. You're human. You survived something hard, and your body remembers. That's not something to be ashamed of.
Find your people. Not everyone will understand. That's okay. Find the ones who do: whether that's a therapist, a support group, or one good friend who gets it. Healing doesn't happen in isolation.
When Hell Comes Back goes deeper into these moments.
It's not a self-help book with ten easy steps. It's a real story about what adult healing actually looks like: the mess, the setbacks, the small victories, the days you want to give up and the reasons you don't.
I write about specific triggers and how they showed up in my life. About relationships and trust and why they're so hard after trauma. About parenting when you didn't have good parents yourself. About career and money and the ways childhood poverty follows you.
I write about therapy and medication and spirituality and all the things people tell you will fix you: and what actually helped versus what didn't.
Most importantly, I write about hope.
Not the fake kind that pretends everything gets easy. The real kind that says you can build a life worth living even when hell keeps trying to come back.
You survived something hard as a kid and thought you'd be fine by now.
You're tired of people telling you to just get over it or move on.
You've done therapy, read the books, tried all the things, and you're still struggling some days.
You feel like you're the only one who can't seem to heal right.
You need someone to tell you that slow healing is still healing. That setbacks don't erase progress. That you're not broken, you're rebuilding.
That's what this book does.
The Girl That No One Claimed: When Hell Comes Back isn't out yet. I'm still writing it. Still living it, honestly.
But if you haven't read the first book yet, now's the time. It sets the stage for everything that comes next.
Right now, I'm offering signed copies of The Girl That No One Claimed with a free gift. It's my way of saying thank you for being part of this journey.
If you want one, reach out through the website.
And if you want to know when the second book releases, stay tuned. I'll announce it as soon as I can.
Writing about trauma is hard.
Reading about it can be hard too.
But there's something powerful that happens when we stop pretending everything is fine and start telling the truth about what healing really looks like.
Hell might come back. It probably will.
But you're stronger than you think. You've survived worse. And you don't have to do this alone.
That's what I want you to know.
That's why I'm writing this book.