Written by Dennis Harvell
There was a time when I didn’t want to remember anything — not the losses, not the trauma, not the weight I carried quietly for years. I thought remembering would break me all over again. What I didn’t understand then was that healing doesn’t come from avoiding your past. It comes when you’re finally strong enough to face it.
This year, something shifted. I stopped looking at my past with regret and started seeing the strength it took to get here. I began to like the man in the mirror. I found peace, contentment, and a new optimism for the future.
As I wrote my story — slowly, honestly — the memories didn’t return to hurt me. They returned to guide me. Some chapters made me cry, especially the ones about my brothers, but the emotions were already there long before the words.
I wasn’t meant to write this book last year or next year. I was meant to write it now, at the moment when I could honor my mother, my brothers, and myself with the dignity we all deserved.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’ve arrived at myself. I didn’t just write a book. I found myself in the process.
