I know that in this moment, you see nothing but a frightened stranger standing before you. Yet I ask you to look deeper, to see a life shaped by hardship and resilience—a life that still holds so much to give. Spare me now, and I promise my story will not be one of wasted breath.

I was born the illegitimate child of a single mother who juggled two jobs and a complicated relationship, striving to give me steadiness I seldom felt. For the first twelve years of my life, I was an only child, my world revolving around her unwavering love; then four cousins arrived, two boys and two girls, and our house burst into laughter and chaos. Those early years taught me to cherish every fleeting moment of happiness.

At nineteen I believed in fairy tales and marriage, only to discover my husband cheating in our storeroom on our wedding night. Three years later, I walked away. Five years after that, I found hope again, only to endure ten years of betrayal and the trampling of my dignity. Twice divorced, I poured my heart into a business that ultimately betrayed me, landing me in prison for five years. As if that weren’t enough, immigration challenges loomed—my two decades of contribution erased by a missing stamp.

Through each trial, I never gave up on kindness. I helped those in need, even when they remembered only my mistakes. Since my release, I began anew far from here, rebuilding trust with new friends and a new job. Today, I live quietly with my two dogs—my sole companions in a world where connecting has become difficult.

I share this with you not to excuse my past, but to show you the value of life that persists despite every blow. I can still offer compassion, loyalty and gratitude. You hold the power to end my story here—or to let it continue, to witness the healing I still hope to bring. Please, spare me, and grant us both the mercy of a life uncut by violence.