When I was little, my mother told me fairy tales every night. Her favorite to tell me and my favorite to listen to was Peter Pan. I loved it because mom named me Wendy and it always sounded like I went on amazing adventures with this amazing boy who could fly.
When I was little, I would sit by my window and wait for Peter to come to take me to Neverland. I imagined that we would battle with the pirates and hunt with the indians and play with the mermaids. We would have treasure hunts with the lost boys.
It was funny, when I was too young to understand that fairy tales were nothing but fiction, I wanted to be Peter Pan. I never said I was going to grow up because in my mind I never going to.
My dad had never been around but I never minded much. My mom and I were as close as two people could get. When I was 10 there was an accident. We were in a car crash and everything was moving so fast and she wasn't in the car anymore.
I woke up in the hospital alone and an orphan. In that moment I knew, there was no such thing as fairies and there was no Peter Pan. I was alone.
I was put through the foster system and they all tried to get me to open up but I turned in on myself. It wasn't the best life, but I knew, if I were to survive, I would have to barre my heart from any and all people.
