Healing is HARD.

Sometimes healing feels less like a gentle walk forward and more like standing at the edge of everything you thought you knew, setting it on fire, and walking through the ashes to build something new. That’s what unlearning feels like. For me, it meant starting over; completely. Cutting toxic ties, moving countries. A complete rebirth. I had to unlearn the lies that were sewn into me from birth. Lies that told me I was unwanted. That I was a burden. That I was unlovable. That my father didn’t want or love me. That I would never amount to anything. That I was a bad person.

For the majority of my life, I was ridiculed, silenced, and punished just for asking questions; for being curious. For being me. My ADHD (undiagnosed until 2024) made me inquisitive, but instead of being nurtured, or understood, it was treated as rebellion. I was accused of ‘thinking’ that I was ‘better’ than those around me and so, I became small. I stopped speaking up. I stopped dreaming, because every time I showed even a flicker of my light, someone tried to snuff it out.

Surviving wasn’t easy. I’ve lived through abuse, domestic violence, through the ache of miscarriages, the exhaustion of single parenthood, and the unbearable pain of widowhood. I’ve endured chronic illness for 17 years; Lyme disease, neurological symptoms, dizziness, chronic fatigue & more; missing out on so much life while trying to simply exist in a body that felt like it was failing me and yet… I kept going.

Despite being dragged down by my (maternal) 'family' of haters. Despite their slander. Despite the continuous threats. Despite the relentless lies. Despite the shame I refused to carry, for secrets I didn’t create. Despite the labels, the silence, the judgments.

Somewhere in that mess, I began to rebuild. From the ground up. I returned to faith, cautiously at first. I had been raised by religious hypocrites who twisted God into something fearful, hateful and controlling, but I found a faith that felt like home. One rooted in love, in grace, in truth. One that welcomed the broken parts of me, not just the polished pieces. I started studying again, from bed, then I returned to university full time, while still battling chronic illness. I decided to reclaim my voice, my story, and my purpose.

Unlearning is hard, but it makes space for reimagining and from that space, healing begins. I’m still figuring out who I really am without the noise, without the shame, without the false labels, but I know this: I am NOT what they told me I was. I am strong. I am healing. I am here to help others do the same. It’s not perfect. I’m not perfect, but I am true to myself.

And that, to me, is a victory.