Big Truth Advocate

Big Truth Advocate ⚠︎SA Survivor & Advocate⚠︎
Speaking My Truth
Exclaiming Boundaries
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There was a time I held my own shoulders because no one else would.I walked through silence, through the ache of being u...
06/10/2026

There was a time I held my own shoulders because no one else would.
I walked through silence, through the ache of being unseen, learning to protect myself in ways the world never taught me.

There are traumatic experiences that change the way you move through life, the way your body remembers what your mind tries to forget.
For a long time, I didn’t know what it meant to feel safe.
I learned to walk with my guard up, always scanning, always bracing, convinced the world was something I had to survive rather than trust.

I never knew the luxury of walking the earth with blind freedom.

But slowly, almost quietly, the light began to shift.
Not all at once, just enough for me to notice the softness I had forgotten existed.
Calm mornings, gentle air, small signs that maybe the world wasn’t only made of shadows…

Now I stand in the open field with my hands lifted high, trusting, that the same world that once felt cold and indifferent might guide me somewhere kinder.
I am not lost. I am finally living.
Every breath, every sunrise, every quiet moment of faith and prosperity is proof that healing doesn’t arrive in a single moment, it unfolds, like wings learning to open for the first time🪽

My childhood was a staged performance.Everything looked soft and picture‑perfect from the audience, the props, the smile...
06/08/2026

My childhood was a staged performance.
Everything looked soft and picture‑perfect from the audience, the props, the smiles, the carefully curated scenes.
But when the lights dimmed and the curtains closed, the truth was nothing like the show.

I grew up with a father who didn’t just distance himself, he mocked his own children openly, turning us into the punchline of his bitterness.
No child should have to walk on eggshells around the man who’s supposed to make them feel safe.

A mother who poured all her warmth into every child except her own, chasing admiration from the outside world while leaving us empty‑handed behind the scenes.
No one should have to feel that strange, hollow awkwardness with their own mother, the kind that comes from a relationship built on curated lies instead of love.

And a family who saw the darkness building, who saw the flaws as clearly as I did, and still chose silence because pretending was easier than confronting reality.

It was theatre, costumes for the world, cruelty in the quiet.
A performance everyone protected, even when it meant abandoning the children living it.

For years, I carried the weight of their production in silence.
Now I’m stepping out of their script, out of the roles they chose, out of the illusion they built.

This time, the story is mine, unmasked, unperformed, and finally honest.

Growing up, I was taught that being skinny wasn’t something to be proud of, it was something to fix, hide, or apologize ...
06/07/2026

Growing up, I was taught that being skinny wasn’t something to be proud of, it was something to fix, hide, or apologize for. I heard words like boney, unhealthy, too thin, skeleton long before I ever understood what body dysmorphia was. And when you hear those things as a child, they don’t feel like comments. They feel like definitions. They shape the way you see yourself before you ever get the chance to decide who you are.

For years, I believed my body was wrong. I believed that thin meant unattractive, unwell, unacceptable. I believed that no matter what I did, I would never look “right.” And that kind of thinking doesn’t just live on the surface, it settles into the way you move, the way you dress, the way you stand in photos, the way you shrink yourself in rooms. It becomes a quiet battle between what you see in the mirror and what the world has told you to see.

Body dysmorphia isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s the soft, constant hum of “not enough.” Sometimes it’s the way you pick yourself apart even when no one else is looking. Sometimes it’s the way you brace yourself for comments before anyone even speaks.

But I’m learning.. slowly, gently.. that my body was never the problem. The problem was the lens I was given. The problem was the belief that beauty only exists in one direction. The problem was being taught to hate a body that was simply mine.

Today, I’m choosing a different story. I’m choosing to see strength where I once saw flaws. I’m choosing to honour the body that has carried me through every version of myself. I’m choosing to unlearn the shame that was never mine to hold.

I am more than the labels I was given.
I am more than the names I was called.

My body is perfect the way it is and it’s time that I listen to what it needs and not what everyone else wants to see🤍

I will love you from afar,trusting that one day your heart will riseand find its way out of the shadows.When you are rea...
06/06/2026

I will love you from afar,
trusting that one day your heart will rise
and find its way out of the shadows.
When you are ready to step into the light,
I will be here,
steady and open,
a soft place for you to land as you begin again

Xo

For years I lived inside a body that felt caged, trapped beneath judgment, isolation, and the quiet ache of feeling unhe...
06/04/2026

For years I lived inside a body that felt caged, trapped beneath judgment, isolation, and the quiet ache of feeling unheard and undervalued. I carried the weight of being dismissed, of having my voice treated as if it didn’t matter, until it twisted me into someone I barely recognized.

But the day I finally quieted the noise, something in me broke open. I gathered every wound, every injustice, every moment I felt powerless, and I let it fall away like petals in the wind.
In that release, I was reborn.
I rose lighter, freer, unbound, like a body turning back into butterflies.

This is my rebirth: a life no longer shaped by manipulation or fear, but by the certainty that I deserve to prosper. I deserve to move with weightlessness, guided only by what my soul desires and rooted in the tranquility I fought so hard to find.

This is the day I stop living a life built for someone else’s approval and start building one that feels like my own.For...
06/02/2026

This is the day I stop living a life built for someone else’s approval and start building one that feels like my own.

For years, I chased acceptance, believing that if I followed the path laid out before me, I would finally feel worthy, successful, and enough. Instead, I found myself growing further away from who I am. Piece by piece, I traded my peace for praise, my passion for permission, and my dreams for expectations that were never truly mine.

But not anymore.

Today marks the first day of taking back my power. The first day of trusting my own voice over the noise of obligation. The first day of choosing a future that feels alive, meaningful, and true to me.

I no longer measure my worth by how well I fit into someone else’s vision of success. I measure it by the peace I feel when I wake up, the passion that fuels my days, the kindness that surrounds me, and the freedom to become who I was always meant to be.

I deserve a life that nourishes my soul, not one that slowly silences it.

So here I sit, grounded in the present, grateful for the lessons, at peace with what I’m leaving behind, and excited for everything that lies ahead.

This is not just the end of a chapter.
This is the beginning of my own story.

She loves only what she can bend to her will, even if it means breaking what she swears she cherishes.She shaped the wor...
06/01/2026

She loves only what she can bend to her will, even if it means breaking what she swears she cherishes.
She shaped the world around me with her lies and deception,
turning familiar faces into witnesses for her performance,
stories polished until she gleamed as the victim and I became the shadow she pointed toward.

My pain became her shield,
my suffering her stage,
my father’s darkness the perfect curtain
to hide the monster she refused to name.

She rehearsed healing like a script,
spoke of therapy as if she were doing the work, but honesty would have unraveled her…

The truth: My father was not the only danger
walking the halls of my childhood home.

And it wasn’t and isn’t just me.
She‘ll hurt anyone to exonerate herself.
She speaks of her own children as burdens,
spinning the same tale for anyone who will listen, hungry for pity, eager for applause.
Secrets fall from her like sparks,
igniting fires in every room she enters,
not just mine, but everyone’s.
I know every hidden truth she carries,
because she cannot hold anyone’s trust.

Yet they chose to believe her cries,
blind to the storm she carries.

I have nothing left to give,
no fight or care to prove her darkness,
So here I stand,
proud of myself,
steady in who I am,
finally stepping out of the
story she wrote for me for so long.

Her shadows now rise behind me,
out of reach from the woman I’ve become.
And I will never let her or anyone else allow me to believe that her manipulation is something I need to quietly suffer.

When my childhood felt dark, lonely, and impossible to escape, I found refuge in nature, specifically on this rock. It b...
05/30/2026

When my childhood felt dark, lonely, and impossible to escape, I found refuge in nature, specifically on this rock. It became my sanctuary, the one place where I could breathe, think, and simply exist. I spent countless hours here, often staying until my brother came looking for me at dinner time. When the weight of life felt too heavy and the thought of giving up crept into my mind, this place reminded me to look up. To watch the sky. To listen to the wind. To remember that the world was bigger than the pain I was living in. This rock held space for a little girl who was trying to survive, and it quietly whispered what she couldn’t yet believe: one day, there would be more than this. One day, there would be peace.

I spent so much of my life believing love was supposed to feel conditional.Like I had to earn softness. Earn safety. Ear...
05/29/2026

I spent so much of my life believing love was supposed to feel conditional.
Like I had to earn softness. Earn safety. Earn understanding.

I grew up in an environment where I felt judged more than supported, silenced more than heard, and treated like I was always “too much” or somehow a problem to fix. Even when deep down I knew I deserved more, I didn’t have anyone around me to validate that feeling in a healthy way.

Then I met you.

You loved me in a way that didn’t require me to make myself small. You reminded me that being sensitive is not weakness, that my voice deserves space, and that I am worthy of gentleness, patience, and care. You helped me see myself through kinder eyes when I had spent years being taught otherwise.

And to your family, thank you.
Thank you for showing me warmth without conditions. Thank you for making me feel included, safe, supported, and valued in ways I never experienced before. The love you share has shown me what family is supposed to feel like.

You all gave me something I didn’t know how badly I needed: a sense of belonging.

Thank you for reminding me of the woman I am, the love I deserve, and the value I bring into this world. I will never stop being grateful for that.

There weren’t many places that could quiet the noise in my head,the ache in my chest, or the anxious current running thr...
05/28/2026

There weren’t many places that could quiet the noise in my head,
the ache in my chest, or the anxious current running through me.
But the water always knew, it unraveled what the world tightened,
letting pieces of me loosen and drift away.
Floating, I felt something inside me unclench,
as if I was shedding a version of myself I’d carried too long.
And when I let my ears slip beneath the surface,
the silence felt like a new beginning,
a calm so complete it was its own kind of rebirth.

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