Lovingly Yours

She was born unwanted-not because she was unworthy of love, but because her existence was born from violence.

Her birth giver never chose her. She was conceived in a moment where fear overpowered consent, where a life was forced into being through pain. From her first breath, she carried a history that was never hers to own.

For the woman who gave birth to her, she was not a beginning. She was an ending - the living proof of a life that had been taken away. Every cry echoed the past. Every small hand felt like a reminder of what the mother could not forget.

"She ruined my life."

Those words lived quietly between them, unspoken but heavy. The mother could not separate the violence from the child, the trauma from the blood they shared. Loving the baby felt impossible when survival itself was already fragile.

And so, a decision was made.

She was given away, not to strangers-a quiet act of mercy disguised as disappearance. She grew up knowing she was not born from love, but she was raised with it.

Still, something lingered-a quiet fracture inside her. A sense of being hidden. As if her life existed in the shadows of someone else's pain. She learned early that her existence was something to be protected, not celebrated. Something fragile enough to destroy another person if revealed.

Two lives bound by the same violence, separated by a lie meant to protect them both.

She grows into a person shaped by silence, wondering why she must remain a secret.

And when the truth eventually finds its way into the light-as truths always do-one question remains:

Will she be able to see that child not as the embodiment of her trauma,
but as a survivor-just like herself?