A Letter to the World

 To those who still sleepwalk through life —

I was born in a small village in Portugal most of you will never hear of. I came into this world innocent, curious, and full of light. But like so many children, I was misunderstood, silenced, and shamed for being different.

I had dyslexia, but no one knew what it was. They thought I was stupid. Lazy. Unworthy. I lived in fear of writing — because every attempt brought ridicule, not recognition.

But life is strange.
Healing is powerful.
And the truth refuses to stay buried forever.

After facing the emotional ruins of my childhood, I found something I thought I’d lost forever: my voice. And now I write. Not because I want attention or applause. I write because the truth must be spoken — even if it’s messy. Even if it’s not well articulated.

I would rather offer raw, honest truth than polished, performative lies. And if you’re still clinging to illusions that feel safe, I understand. I once did too. But know this: no illusion is safe for long. Eventually, the bubble bursts.

The truth is not cruel.
The truth does not destroy.
The truth liberates.

I write for the child I once was.
I write for the children still trapped in emotional prisons.
I write for those standing on the edge of freedom, not knowing they’re allowed to leap.

If you're looking for me on social media, you won't find me there.
But if you’re looking for the truth — I’m still here.

You’ll have to dig for it.
Just like I did.

And if you find it — I promise, you’ll never be the same again.

— Sylvie Shene