Hey, it’s been a long time. I know I disappeared suddenly and completely, and I never explained why. For over 11 years now, I’ve carried the weight of just going silent, and I know that choice probably hurt or confused people who cared about me. I want to be honest about why it happened, what’s been going on, and where I’m at now.

The truth is, I wasn’t in a good place back then. Something very personal broke me in a way I didn’t think was possible, and I shut down. I thought if I just vanished, it would protect me from more pain. What it really did was leave a hole — in my life and in the connections I abandoned. I don’t say this to excuse it, but to admit it: I was too hurt to explain, so I chose silence.

Since then, I’ve been living quietly. I’ve been working at McDonald’s for 7 years. Life has been routine, but not meaningless. In my own way, I’ve been surviving. And recently, something unexpected happened: I started writing a My Little Pony movie project. At first it was just an outlet — songs, scripts, storyboards. But it’s grown into something bigger. The movie has become a place where I can pour my traumas, my grief, my questions about love, betrayal, family, and healing. Through the characters, I’ve been able to face things I couldn’t talk about directly. It’s been like ripping off old bandages I’d left on for too long, letting the wounds finally breathe so they can start to heal in a healthier way.

I won’t lie — I’m still very hurt by what caused me to disappear. That part of my story doesn’t just vanish with time. But for the first time in years, I’m beginning to come to terms with it. Not by pretending it never happened, but by acknowledging it and finding ways to process it through creativity.

I’ve also thought a lot about the ABDL side of myself. That part of me still exists, and I won’t deny it. Do I want to dive headfirst into that world again? Yes. Am I ready to? No. Not yet. For now, I’m focusing on healing, on finding balance, and on learning how to connect with people again without fear or shame.

I don’t know how this message will be received. If reconnecting isn’t something you want, I’ll accept that. But if you are open to it, I’d like to at least say hello again, share where I’m at now, and maybe — slowly and carefully — rebuild some sense of connection.

Even if nothing comes from this, I didn’t want to stay silent anymore. I wanted you to know that I didn’t disappear because I stopped caring. I disappeared because I was broken. And I’m finally trying to live again.