"Nothing made sense to me anymore. I knew I was young, I knew I was small. But I was worried that I might already be ruined."

I always say that I prefer books that resonate with me rather than ones I find relatable. 

This is a childhood so very unlike mine but I resonate so deeply with it that it hurts all the same. I know what it is to have a father you cannot trust, and a home that never quite feels right. 

I recognize OCD anytime I see it, and I empathize with those urges. I never prayed to a god or wore crosses but I sure as hell worried I would be like my dad somehow, and did everything in my power to be unlike him. The organizing of his things for some semblance of control feels like a mirror image. 

I always appreciate when people share their hardest stories. I need them too.