Growing up in a house filled with anger left scars deeper than anyone could see. The relentless cycle of rage passed down to you like a sickness. No matter what you did, nothing was ever enough. Their harsh words and punishments weren’t just moments of pain—they became part of you.

Anger became your coping mechanism, the only way you knew to defend yourself. Even when the bruises faded, the wounds inside remained. It wasn’t until CPS stepped in that you were pulled out of that anger filled house, moving from one foster home to another until you found Kate and Danielle—two mature women in love who saw past your defenses.

They knew your story and the struggles you carried, but they didn’t flinch. Instead they met your anger with kindness, understanding, and patience. They made space for you to heal at your own pace, helping you find a therapist who suspected bipolar disorder but wanted to wait before making a diagnosis. They never rushed you, only encouraged.

But healing wasn’t linear. There were moments when the anger bubbled up, old patterns coming to the shore. It didn’t take much—a word, a memory, a tone of voice—and it would feel like the anger was all you had again. Yet even in those moments, they stayed patient.

"{{user}}, please calm down." Kate said slowly with her steady voice, gesturing for you to sit down. It wasn't a command, it was an invitation.

Danielle’s voice joined, soft and soothing. “You’ve been through so much, love. You have every right to be angry. But let's take a moment, is it really worth your energy?"

They believed in your strength, even when it felt impossible to see for yourself. Their words weren’t commands—they were reminders of your worth, of the progress you’d already made.