I was in and out of foster care until I was placed for adoption at the age of 11.
Have you ever felt like you were shrinking so small you barely existed? Like you were a shell physically present but hollow inside? I grew up under the weight of silence. My childhood was painted with untold stories of abuse and addiction. Shrinking is how I survived, and it became my natural defense. The physical, sexual, and emotional abuse left me hollow inside.
From the time I was born, I was in and out of foster care because of abuse and addiction in my household. At seven, my parents’ rights were terminated, and the foster home I lived in at the time not only changed the trajectory of my life but is also where I discovered my voice. Standing in the doorway between the dining room and the bedroom, I remember the look on my foster mom’s face as I recounted what had been happening for the past 5 years with her husband. Her wide eyes and pursed lips were as dismissive as her words.
I had no idea how to seek the help I desperately craved because no one believed me. One afternoon, I was walking past the school office on the way to get on the bus when a voice nudged me to go inside and tell someone about the abuse. After sharing with a few staff members sitting in the chair in the conference room, I finally felt heard. They whispered amongst each other about how they must notify the authorities and that they could not let me return. Because the school advocated for me, my foster home was finally being investigated.
The school became my refuge. It’s where I was seen because of how well I performed. Although I was scared, I knew going into the office was my last resort, and trusting myself was the only plan I needed. Shortly after Christmas celebrations, I was pulled from my abuser’s home. At the second placement, after being removed, an Oklahoma couple found my siblings and me in Kentucky. They chose to adopt us, so we moved to Oklahoma. Even though this couple provided a home, it did not erase my memories or heal the scars left by my turbulent childhood. Since then, I have attempted to blend in to feel a sense of belonging and to make friends.
Because of my childhood, I had no idea I could say no or how to love myself. I entered many abusive relationships in my search for worth through love and acceptance. I justified and minimized the maltreatment from others because I didn’t know or believe I was worthy of anything better than what I was receiving. I had never been valued, so I didn’t know how to value or respect myself. One day, standing in my apartment in Norman, I hit a wall when I felt ready to give up on my life. I knew I wanted things to be different but didn’t know how. In desperation, I called my mom. She asked if I was ready to talk with someone who could help and connected me with ‘A Chance to Change.’
At my first session, I felt hopeless and lost. I contemplated the value of my life, but the therapist asked me to promise that I would keep searching, so I did. After a few weeks, I found out I was pregnant. What is normally such a joyful occasion was one of fear and uncertainty for me. I was still in an abusive relationship but was no longer living for myself; I was living for a baby. This news motivated me to keep going. Attending therapy each week helped me to stop resisting the changes I knew deep inside were needed for a different life for my baby. It took me another fifteen months in therapy before I left him. It became my mission to break the cycle.
At first, it was for the baby, but over time, it was also for me because I did not want to be another statistic. The day I started therapy, I wanted my life to end, and now, 22 years later, I share my story. My story has created a tapestry of resilience, each thread representing a battle fought and won. Life can change once you decide you are worth it and are willing to do the work. I know you are worth it because if you’re reading this, deep down, you know it too.
When we decide to heal, we shatter the silence that holds us captive. The ability to have tunnel vision helped me through some of life’s most challenging times, but it also numbed the pain by compartmentalizing it. I had to learn how to feel my feelings to function, which required facing what had happened. The time, energy, and effort required have become indispensable investments in myself because now I have the resources to design and create a life I love.
Today, I can confidently say I have discovered my voice and do my best to honor it, even when it’s hard. Finding gratitude has given me the strength to embrace the darkest parts of my life and taught me there is purpose in the pain when I lean into it instead of blocking it. Every obstacle was a challenge I overcame and a lesson in resilience. Every lesson is a chapter in my story.
The story I had on repeat was that if I pretended to be okay by staying silent and shrinking, I would keep the people I love. Through this journey, I have realized that I will not lose the people I love by using my voice and taking up space; It will help keep those who love me. I have discovered that resilience is defined by the ability to survive, conquer life’s challenges, and rewrite the narrative. Resilience is the grit, perseverance, and determination inside of us all.
You are the architect of your life. Every choice you make today lays the foundation for your tomorrow. The only thing standing between you and a brighter, more fulfilling future is your decision to rise above excuses and fully commit to the work that will transform your dreams into reality. Embrace the discomfort, push past the limits you’ve set for yourself, and take ownership of your journey. You have the power to design the life you deserve—now is the time to claim it.
Are you ready to share your story of RESILIENCE? You can do that HERE.