Phaedra Michaud

I’m Phaedra Michaud. I didn’t come to writing through classrooms or quiet studies—I came to it through survival. I grew up in the foster system, carrying stories that were never safe to tell out loud. Words became the only place I could set them down, the only way I could breathe without breaking.

Now, as a mother and a survivor, I write for the kids who were told they were unlovable, for the ones still sifting through the ashes of their past, and for anyone who has ever felt too fractured to matter. My pages hold both the weight of what tried to destroy me and the stubborn beauty of what refused to die.

If you’re reading my work, know this: it isn’t polished perfection. It’s real, it’s scarred, and it’s stitched together with hope. And maybe, in these lines, you’ll see a reflection of your own survival too.