Melissa DiVietri


The looks, the whispers, the use & abuse — I can see it, feel it, hear it.. But the difference is that I rise above it. I’m over it

I can’t control what has happened to me, its fucked up & I gotta live with it for the rest of my life. If the world needs to know what really happened TO understand what I am dealing with… fine. that’s cool, if it makes you feel good to know every little detail about my life.

From foster care to court dates — long hospital visits to different schools all the time. When has my life been stable? What is stability? Who the eff even knows. Am I able to ever live a life that I want to portray.. the perfect reality… blah. I like living on the edge; the rush is intense & I’m never promised tomorrow.

New places are enticing; adventures are exciting; different people with wild personalities are relaxing.

From my birthplace in Traverse City to my hometown of Jackson, MI. I started the youngin on the grind at a young age, Why was I such an asshole when I was a teenager? Why does highschool suck so much? Social acceptance really killed my personality.. I tried everything. I was the manager for the track team, volleyball, cheerleading, basketball, all of it. I volunteered at weekend events to meet different people from the school districts. Making new friends comes naturally. But the feeling as I hopped across the basketball court to get a snack or use the restroom; I could feel every single pair of eyeballs watching me.

I will never be the same person again..

It took years to start looking at myself in mirrors. To figure out why I use these weird objects to move around independently. Something so easy like looking in a mirror took so much effort. For years, I never went into changing rooms when I went shopping for clothes. It took a lot of deep thinking to finally love myself.

During college, I found myself and my friends brought out my personality. I have a full length mirror beside my bed now. I slowly check myself everyday – just to make sure my body looks proportional.

Melissa DiVietri



This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Previous articleGoogle+
Next articleDetroit