As a little girl, I wholeheartedly believed there was a monster under my bed. I pictured it being so furry I couldn't see its eyes- yet it could see me, even in the dark. This horrible demon had a mouth armed with sharp, razor-like teeth and made low-pitched scary roaring noises that echoed down the hallway outside of my bedroom. I would lie very still, listening intently for a sign that I was about to become its prey.

I was in second grade when I realized I had only imagined this monster. Monsters only exist in scary picture books and horror movies my babysitter described. I found it quite amusing that I was so fearful of something that never really existed! I realized I was safe and had nothing to fear. Or so I thought...

When I was 12 years old, the monster returned. This time it wasn't hiding under my bed. "It" was a "they," and both of them were living in my parents' room- but not under their bed. These monsters were IN their bed. They weren't furry with eyes that saw me even when I couldn't see them. They didn't have hundreds of razor-sharp teeth and didn't make loud roaring noises. They looked nothing like the monster I feared long before now. These monsters looked like my parents.

The monsters WERE my parents.

They reminded me daily that they didn't care if I lived or died. They said I had the lowest IQ in the family, and that I was a mistake they wanted to abort. "We can't love you unless you change," they told me. But I didn't know how to be anyone else but myself. When they saw me, they made me crawl out of the room, "to get out of their sight." How bizarre that the monsters I feared didn't want to see me. That's how monsters can be.

But monsters can be anyone. They can be the spouse who "loves you" by controlling your every move. They can be the significant other who tears down your boundaries, leaving you vulnerable, even paralyzed. They can be your lover one day and your worst enemy the next. They will tear you down then build you up, so you will continue to be fodder for their empty, hungry souls. And they will devour your soul whole. They will crush you, leave you for dead, then nurse you back to health so they can say they saved you. Of course, they will remind you daily that you owe them your life. That's what monsters need.

Know this: even when a monster loosens their grip, they leave an imprint on your soul. They visit you in dark nightmares then by day, masquerade as triggers that are tethered to their undoing of all you were. They are primitive in their thirst for licking up every ounce of your personhood but are complicated when cornered. They will hide, and lie, and cheat, even steal- steal all of you and your family too.

These days I know where my monsters are not. They are not under my bed, in my house or my life. Although they're gone, I still have work to do. I am equipped with a full toolbox to reinforce newfound boundaries and rebuild all the parts of me they tore down. I dip my brushes in vibrant colors to paint my once pale, withered soul. I planted flowers to decorate and celebrate the person who almost wasn't.

But I am! I found the voice they sought to silence. I am unafraid, and turn this voice into a roar when need be. But mostly I use that voice to sing. That's what happy, healed people do to celebrate there will never again be monsters under their bed.