Writing became my way of expressing myself when I couldn’t communicate with my parents. I wrote to share my side of the story. I began writing again when my eldest daughter, Shruty, arrived—my miraculous firstborn. My writing continued with the arrival of Lilandra and Lucius, a double miracle. I wrote them poems and letters so they would truly know me. Sadly, these writings were accidentally destroyed, and I stopped writing for a while. I later enrolled in a creative writing course and was determined to write again for my children. This book is dedicated to them, my greatest teachers, who have given me so much joy. To my husband, Chew Hock Poon, who unclipped my wings so I could fly freely while our children remained safe and deeply loved. Because of him, I found myself. To Kirthana Ravintharan, who has encouraged me to publish this for the last three years and loves me quietly. To my friends—Aliyah Karen, Anitha Abdul Hamid, Elizabeth Sagayamary, Go Ashokh, Jacqueline Anthony, Jeyarani Sinniah, and Sharmini Suthan—who read my work, encouraged me, laughed and cried with me, and offered thoughtful feedback. I would also like to express my gratitude for the works of Dr. Gabor Maté, whose ‘In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts’ helped me reconcile with Appa, and for those of Brené Brown, which started me on this journey. This book is also dedicated to my parents, Appa and Amma, who showed me how to strive to be the best version of oneself while struggling with their own pain and allowed me to witness their inner wrestle. Thank you for being so beautifully imperfect. To Appa, who never had a chance to heal, and to Amma—may we have both time and hope on our side. To anyone who picks up this book by choice and treasures their own story: you are enough, and so am I.