My name is Geneva Otero, and I'm about to turn 46. Almost every day, I drive to the cemetery to visit my daughter's grave. I bring her flowers, I talk to her, I make sure she knows she's loved. She can't answer back, but I keep talking anyway.
She died by suicide. My beautiful girl couldn't take the bullying anymore, couldn't take the pain of being rejected by a boy she cared about. The system that was supposed to protect her failed. The school that was supposed to be a safe place failed. And I failed too, because I couldn't save her.
But I'm still here. Still fighting. Still making sure she has fresh flowers.
I've been through hell and back - cancer, chemotherapy, radiation treatments that left me weak and sick. I've had my youngest son ripped away from me by authorities who gave him to someone who wasn't even his biological father. I've watched the system destroy my family piece by piece while I was powerless to stop it.
My best friend Eric comes over just to listen to me talk. He knows I need to get this story out, need to tell the world what they did to us. How they failed my daughter. How they stole my son. How they kicked me when I was already down, fighting for my life against cancer.
This is my story. It's about loss and love and a mother who refuses to give up. It's about how the system fucks over people like me - people who are already struggling, already broken, already doing everything they can just to survive.
But it's also about the love that keeps me going. The love that takes me to that cemetery every day. The love that makes me keep fighting, even when everything seems hopeless.
This is for my daughter. This is for my son. This is for everyone the system has failed.
This is my truth.