#lifewithoutfear

I was 12 years old when I experienced my brother's first outbreak of violence. I was 17 years old when I realized my brother's violence would never end. I was 17 when I confessed to my father that I was afraid of my brother. I was 20 when I managed to leave the province where I am from and came to Buenos Aires to study. I was 20 years old, my father had passed away and could no longer protect me. I was alone in a huge city, and my mother helped me as much as she could. I was 22 when I was able to return to my province, to my home, to visit without fear because my brother had been imprisoned. No one should live like this. I should not have lived like this. I didn't deserve it, but it made me very strong.

Every day I wake up and I don't regret leaving my home because I would still be controlled by my parents, I wouldn't be able to study what I want, eat what I want, or talk to whoever I want. At my parents' house, I am their property, but in my own home, I am only mine and no one else's.