There are things you survive that you never talk about.
Not because you're ashamed. Not because you've forgotten. But because the words feel too heavy to carry out into the open, and you're not sure anyone would understand if you did.
For a long time, that was me.
I Am Still Here started not as a book, but as a reckoning. A quiet conversation I had with myself in the moments when I wasn't sure I'd make it — and the slow, stubborn realization that I had. That I was still here. And that being still here meant something.
Writing this memoir was one of the hardest things I've ever done. It meant going back to places I'd worked hard to leave. It meant sitting with pain I'd learned to outrun. But it also meant something I didn't expect: freedom. Because when you finally say the thing out loud — when you put it on the page and let it exist in the world — it loses some of its power over you.
I wrote this book for myself first. But I also wrote it for you.
For anyone who has ever felt invisible in their own story. For anyone who has survived something they weren't sure they'd survive. For anyone who wakes up some mornings and needs a reminder that still being here is enough — that it's more than enough.
If that's you, this book is yours.
Get your copy of I Am Still Here →
With gratitude,
Lisa