As I tell people about genocide, I get the opportunity to redeem myself. I’ve had the chance to do something that’s worth me being alive... The more I tell people, the less the nightmares haunt me.

I am six years old and instead of celebrating with birthday cakes, I chew on a piece of charcoal.

In my heart I know the truth, but my mind cannot accept the reality of what this all means.

I think living in the West, we live in a culture where everybody strives for perfection, whether it's in body, health, spirit, skin, hair, nails. Perfect happiness would be a constant state of bliss, which doesn't exist. Growing up and going through the loss I went through, I never had a moment where I believed a constant state of bliss was possible. Instead, I tried to create many moments. But, I didn't know how to get there. Because of what I went through, I have a natural tendency towards darkness. Though it may be in my DNA as well.

Courage is when you dare to be yourself, in whatever ways you want to be - to not be afraid, to just do it.

To all the survivors out there, I want them to know that we are stronger and more resilient than we ever knew. We survived, that should be enough but it isn't. We must work hard to become whole again, to fill our soul with love and inspiration, to live the life that was intended for us before it was disrupted by war and horrors, and help rebuild a world that is better than the one we had just left.

When I arrived in America, though I had left the war physically far behind, in my mind, the soldiers were still chasing to kill me, my stomach was always hungry, and my fear and distrust kept me from opening up to new friendships. I thought the war was over when I left Cambodia, but I realize now that for survivors and all those involved, the war is never over just because the guns have fallen silent.