My Story — A Timeline of Healing and Becoming
Early Childhood
I was born into instability. My parents divorced early in my life, and my mother began a relationship with a man who had a history of criminal activity and drug use. Our home environment quickly became unsafe—marked by chaos, drug activity, violent arguments, and frequent visits from the police and DCF.
Foster Care Years
After one particularly dangerous situation, the police showed up and removed my sister and me from our home. We were placed in three different foster care homes. We were just kids—confused, scared, and desperate for safety. Eventually, my father—who had previously been absent—gained full custody of us.
Life with My Father
What followed was a new form of trauma. My father was controlling, financially unstable, and mentally unwell. He spoke in made-up languages, practiced witchcraft openly, and used fear and spiritual manipulation to control us. My sister and I were isolated—cut off from normal childhood experiences like birthday parties, sports, family vacations and holidays.
I wasn’t allowed to shave my legs, paint my nails or wear makeup. He read my journals, timed my showers, yelled if I took too long, and ransacked my room. At one point, when we couldn’t afford rent, we were forced to move in with my great-grandmother in a different state who had dementia. My father took the only available bedroom while my sister and I slept on a freezing, enclosed porch in them middle of a New England winter—navigating a brand-new high school my freshman year for just six months before we moved again.
Estrangement and Separation
Eventually, the day we graduated high school —my sister and I were kicked out of the house with nowhere to go. Everyone’s families were throwing thoughtful graduation parties, while my sister and I were packing our belongings, uncertain of where we were going to go next. She, already vulnerable due to a cognitive disability from a premature birth, chose to seek the care of an extremely religious family who later moved her to another country. We lost most, if not all contact with her. At the same time, my mother—who also had mental health challenges and a learning disability—lived in isolation just an hour away, unable to offer any support.
Post-High School Survival
When I graduated high school, I had no home, no license or car, no health insurance, and no roadmap. While others were heading off to college, I moved in with my (maternal) grandparents who gave me shelter and love. Still, I silently struggled with depression, anxiety, and a deep sense of alienation and confusion. Watching others live freely while I carried invisible burdens only deepened my pain. I was so misunderstood by everyone, and my pain was beyond my comprehension at only the age of 18.
Love, Pain, and Growth
After spending a year with my grandparents and staying with friends, at the age of 19 I moved in with a boyfriend. He had a troubled past and reputation, but I saw the good in him. Unbeknownst to me, he was struggling with substance abuse and addiction. I was working full-time and attending school, too overwhelmed to see all the signs right away. I eventually told his family the truth, which led to him getting help and becoming sober. We are still together today, but the relationship hasn’t always been easy. I often feel unseen, emotionally unsupported, and deeply lonely—a reflection of patterns I’m still learning to break.
Where I Am Now
Today, I am doing the inner work to reclaim my life. I’m learning how to heal not just from the trauma, but from the survival identity I carried for so long. I’ve immersed myself in meditation, yoga, herbalism, business and spiritual wellness—not as an escape, but as a way home.
I created Rebloom with Rebecca to share my healing journey out loud. I want others to see that even if your story starts in darkness, you are still allowed to choose light. You can break cycles. You can set yourself free. You can bloom in your own time.
What I Believe
• You are not broken. You are becoming.
• You don’t need permission to heal.
• Your truth is enough.
• And it’s never too late to come back to yourself.
