silhouette of man standing against black and red background
Photo by Elti Meshau on

The choice of my twenty-eighth birthday for my first article of this blog is not a coincidence.

Writing has always been my greatest passion, a passion that has never ceased to grow day after day.

I’m studying to become a lawyer because, above all, I have a strong sense of justice.

To many of us, especially the most sensitive ones, it can happen to find themselves in a relationship with the wrong man, a man who reflects upon us its negative influence, a man who leads us to believe that we are the wrong ones, that we don’t deserve much, a man who makes us fall in his sweet trap, convincing our minds and our hearts that we need him to be happy.

When we are in love with the wrong man our eyes do not see violence, justifying his behavior because we’re convinced that it is always only physical pain, but in reality we suffer a more profound wound, seemingly invisible but not less painful, which is psychological violence, mental control by the last person that we would expect to do us harm … the man we love.

I always knew that one day writing would save me and that it would play a major role in my life, both for me and for someone else, but I never imagined how far I would go to fulfill my dream.
I do not consider myself a feminist, much less self-pitying, rather well aware of the responsibility that we have when we let these dangerous individuals into our life, but I also know that this type of man, at the beginning of a relationship, pretends to be completely different, succeeding in deceiving us, taking away slowly all our resources, our energy, our strength.

This can happen to a student like me, to women of all ages, even economically independent, women who feel lonely, weak, fragile, sometimes without a strong character, but once they open their eyes to the world they realize that they are indeed strong and smart.

Now I’m finally ready to move on, starting a new life, demanding justice for the harm I’ve suffered.