I don't know when I stopped believing in unicorns and rainbows. But I know I was a kid. A very troubled kid. Life wasn't as easy as it should have been for a child. Everything was bigger and scarier. Especially the things and the people that were supposed to make me feel safe and protected.

Home wasn't safe. I thought it was. I thought we were the Cleavers. My parents were perfect. My mother worked hard. She kept a beautiful home and prepared perfect meals. She kept her kids in line and made sure we were all just right before my father came home. My father was a soldier. The man that was protecting the entire country, our neighborhood, our home. But not me. He did not protect me.

The unicorns did not protect me. There was no treasure at the end of the rainbow. And my mother and father were not protecting me.