As a 2-year-old, I stepped outside into the warmth of the sun, its embrace wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. But amidst the brightness, a dark shadow loomed behind me, evoking an inexplicable fear that drove me to run inside, tears streaming down my face. That childhood memory became a poignant metaphor for the shadows that would follow me throughout my life—the lingering darkness of abuse.

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In the corridors of my childhood, those shadows were filled with fear and doubt, a constant companion that threatened to overshadow the notes of my piano keys. Yet, even in the midst of the overwhelming darkness, the stage became my sanctuary. Under the bright lights, amidst the sounds of the piano, I found not only a reprieve but also the beauty that is inherent to our world.

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In 2014, a call from Representative Angela Romero changed the trajectory of my life. She asked if I would share my experiences with child abuse, testifying before the legislature to support her bill on sexual abuse prevention in schools. I deliberated, aware that revealing the specifics of my shadows meant exposing my vulnerabilities to the world. It was a choice between the comfort of privacy and the responsibility to be a voice for the voiceless.