When I was fourteen my best friend wrote me a letter and told me she didn’t want to be my friend anymore. She told me I was weird and a loner and she was more into groups of friends. She steered me into the drama club then ditched, and I found my calling. Acting. Pretending to be someone else. Perfect. I learned how to be what other’s wanted me to be. That was the beginning of my life. Shortly after this epiphany I learned how to be social. Just as I was fitting in I decided to graduate high school early, doubled up on my credits, and got my diploma in three years. Not because I was brilliant but because I could. But I was bright. I knew I had to get out of school, get out of my house, get out of my home town, get on with my life. I was bright alright but with all I knew I was totally clueless. I had no real plan other than to escape. At that point I didn’t recall anything about the sexual abuse I endured. Totally blocked it out until I was eighteen.