Keria
Bio
My name’s Keria. I’ve faced homelessness, rejection, and a lot of pain — but I write to heal and survive. If my story moved you, a donation or share would mean the world.
Stories (2)
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Not Every Home A Good Home
I left because she didn’t hear me. My mother and I — we always butted heads. Always. It wasn’t just small disagreements or little attitude moments; it was constant tension. No matter how much I tried, no matter how much I kept quiet or held in my feelings, it was like we could never meet in the middle. The frustration built up over time, until I felt like I was suffocating in the silence between us. No matter how hard I tried to make her understand, I always seemed to be the one at fault. No matter how much I bent, it was never enough.
By Keria9 months ago in Confessions
We're All Struggling- So Why Are You Judging Me?
Why let me make memories with you just for you to stop them now? I used to think help meant care. That when someone saw me drowning, they’d reach out because they wanted to see me okay. But now, I’m not so sure. Somewhere along the way, “help” started to come with strings attached — a favor you’d throw in my face later, or worse, something I had to earn by breaking myself down first.
By Keria9 months ago in Confessions
