Perpetual Ascensions
From Darkness to Purpose: How Loss Became My Greatest Teacher and Transformed Me Into an Advocate for Others
My ascension did not happen during the most beautiful moments of my life. It wasn't born from accomplishments, recognition, or even the immense joy of bringing my seven children into the world. My ascension was born in the darkest chapters of my life—chapters I once believed would define me forever.
I survived homelessness.
I survived addiction.
And I survived the moment that broke me more deeply than any other—the moment Child Protective Services took my children from me. My fifth son was only two weeks old.
There is no pain quite like being separated from the very souls you brought into this world. In an instant, everything I knew was stripped away. I was forced to confront every decision, every fear, every wound, and every part of myself I had spent years avoiding.
But what felt like the end became the beginning.
It became the moment I decided my story would not end in loss. It would begin in reclamation.
I fought my way back.
I rebuilt my life piece by piece.
I did the work, even when it felt impossible.
And eventually, I regained custody of my children—not because anyone handed them back to me, but because I earned my way back to them.
That victory did more than restore my family. It awakened my purpose.
To this day, I have never experienced fear as profound as the fear I felt when strangers entered my home, pinned me to the ground, and carried my children out one by one. I can still see their faces. I can still hear their cries. I can still feel the desperation of reaching for them while they reached for me.
Each of them looked back with fear in their eyes, unable to understand why police officers had their mother on the ground or why they were being taken farther and farther away from the place where they felt safest—their mother's arms.
That was not the last bad day.
There were many more.
Days when I felt so numb I could barely move.
Days when I blamed myself for everything.
Days when I had no confidence, no hope, and no belief that life would ever get better.
The anguish, despair, guilt, and trauma were so immense that no single word could adequately describe them.
Yet somehow, I kept going.
And winning my children back became the greatest achievement of my life.
After surviving the system, I refused to walk away quietly. I knew there were other mothers and fathers living through the same fear, shame, confusion, and heartbreak I had experienced. I knew there were parents being judged before they were understood, dismissed before they were supported, and silenced before they had the chance to tell their story.
So I became a parent advocate.
I became the voice I once needed.
I became the support I once prayed for.
I became a reminder that redemption is real, that families can heal, and that no one is beyond rising.
My influence is not theoretical. It is lived. It is earned. It is rooted in every step I took toward healing and in the relentless love that gave me the strength to break through every barrier standing between me and the people I loved most.
A Different Kind of Ascension
This is why advocacy matters to me.
This is why purpose matters to me.
This is why I believe lessons can become blessings.
Because I know what it feels like to lose everything.
And I know what it feels like to rise anyway.
My story is not about perfection. It is about perseverance.
It is not about image. It is about impact.
It is not about being admired. It is about being aligned with the woman I fought so hard to become.
If there is one thing my life has taught me, it is that growth is not a single event—it is a lifelong journey. Every challenge, every heartbreak, every betrayal, and every lesson has become another step in my perpetual ascension.
For many years, I believed strength meant enduring. I believed it meant carrying every burden without complaint, putting everyone else's needs before my own, and continuing forward no matter how heavy the weight became.
Life taught me otherwise.
Life taught me that true strength is not found in suffering silently. It is found in healing openly.
There have been moments of joy so profound they made my soul vibrate, and moments of pain so great they brought me to my knees.
Yet through every season, I discovered something powerful:
I was not being broken.
I was being transformed.
My story is not one of perfection. It is a story of resilience—a story of rebuilding when circumstances demanded it, of finding courage when fear felt overwhelming, and of choosing faith when the future seemed uncertain.
Every obstacle became an invitation to rise higher.
Every setback revealed a strength I did not know I possessed.
Like many women, I have worn countless roles throughout my life—mother, provider, caregiver, advocate, friend, professional, and dreamer. Each role has shaped me, but none of them fully defines me.
Beneath every title is a woman who continues to evolve.
A woman learning that her worth is not measured solely by what she does for others, but by who she allows herself to become.
There were times when disappointment, betrayal, and loss left me questioning everything. But those experiences became some of my greatest teachers. They taught me that healing is not weakness, vulnerability is not failure, and trusting yourself is one of the greatest acts of self-respect you can practice.
My journey has taught me that ascension is not about reaching a destination. It is about embracing growth at every stage of life. It is understanding that we can begin again as many times as necessary.
We can heal.
We can rebuild.
We can reinvent ourselves.
We can rise after every fall.
Today, I stand in a place of deeper self-awareness than ever before—not because life became easier, but because I learned to see challenges differently. I learned that every experience carries a lesson and every chapter serves a purpose.
The woman I am today exists because of every version of myself that came before her.
When people see strength, they often see the outcome. They do not always see the sleepless nights, the difficult decisions, the tears shed in private, or the moments when giving up felt easier than continuing.
But true strength is built in those unseen moments.
It is forged through perseverance.
It is strengthened through faith.
Perpetual ascension means refusing to believe your best days are behind you. It means understanding that growth has no age limit and that your story is still being written.
It means choosing to rise—not once, but again and again.
As women, we are often taught to shrink ourselves, to doubt our intuition, or to wait for permission before stepping into our power.
My journey has taught me the opposite.
Our power has always existed within us.
The challenge is not finding it.
The challenge is believing it.
My life is proof that we are capable of far more than we imagine. We are capable of healing from what hurt us, learning from what challenged us, and becoming stronger because of what tried to break us.
I am still growing.
I am still learning.
I am still ascending.
And perhaps that is the greatest achievement of all—not arriving, but continuing to rise.
