Before she learned to write her name, she had already learned silencehow to hold her breath through screaming matches, how to clean blood from skin that wasn't done growing, how to stay small enough that pain might miss her.
This memoir unravels those secrets. In scenes as vivid as lightning strikes, Shyanne takes you from the kitchen table where she hid trembling, to the school locker room where warm water felt like mercy, to the moments she became a mother and discovered the sacred art of breaking every cycle she was born into.
Through trauma, resilience, motherhood, and reclaiming identity, she reveals the quiet rituals that kept her aliveand the fierce love that finally made her bloom.
This is not a story of what broke her.
It's the story of how she built anyway.
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