They say a cuckoo never builds her own nest.
She lays her eggs in another bird's home and flies away-left out, misunderstood, a mother with
love but no place to give it.
For most of my life, I felt like that cuckoo.
As if my thoughts weren't mine.
Some arrived soft and beautiful. Others came like storms-loud, wild, and painful.
This is not a book about being "cured."
It's about feeling deeply.
It's about remembering the girl I left behind, the mother who hid her tears, the woman who kept breaking-but never stopped smiling. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 42. But I've lived with chaos, confusion, and intensity for as long as I can remember. The diagnosis gave it a name.
But healing? That came slowly. It still does.
I didn't write this to explain mental illness.
I wrote it to reach you.
If you've ever felt too emotional, too lost or too tired-this book is for you.
Pick it up.
Hold it close.
Maybe, just maybe, you'll find a piece of yourself in these pages.
You're not broken.
You're growing.
And here, you are not alone.
Here, it's okay to finally smile for yourself.