“There was never a break. Being a single mom was time-consuming as is, add in juggling three small businesses and attempting to figure out how to heal in the midst of it all. Comparison knocked on my door frequently in the beginning.”
‘Within five years’ time I lost my mom to cancer, got married, lost two grandparents, had a son, got divorced and went broke.’: Woman’s journey re-defining definition of success
‘She’s conceited. She needs to get over herself. Felicia. Felicia. Felicia.’: Woman insists we ‘get lost in crushing goals and proving others wrong’ that instead we ‘crush ourselves’
“Someone judged me for not being at the same job for years like they have been. Another judged me for not getting a 4-year degree when I was supposed to, before 25. I’ve been judged for being overweight. They made me feel so pathetic that I couldn’t find one reason to like myself. I didn’t meet that person’s standards, let alone the world’s standards.”
‘At 15, I became pregnant with my daughter. I had to raise a child while still growing up myself. I received hate and rumors spread.’ Teen mom beats the odds to graduate college and ‘reach success’
“Everyone recognized me by pregnant belly, rather than by my face. I dealt with dirty looks and whispers in the hallways. In college, I got pregnant with my son. It wasn’t easy. I have been in abusive relationships, been days away from planning a wedding, only to find out I was ‘only an option.’ I wanted to give up, on everything. But I was strong for my children.”
‘I wasn’t the stereotypical addict on the streets with no teeth, begging for money. I had children. I was functioning. I’d get up, eat, go to the gym. Then, I’d go on a bender for days.’
“I’d do whatever I could to distract myself from the fact that I felt alone. I always wanted to stop, but I didn’t know how. People around me knew, but never said anything. It made me feel like it was okay. I didn’t realize I needed to change until I lost my children. I decided if I couldn’t beat this and see my kids again, I’d kill myself.”
‘This might sound like a weird question, but is he your son?,’ asked the gas station attendant, gesturing to my 24-year-old. We were in a town 3 hours away from where we live.
“I was surprised by her question, wondering how she would have been able to guess that. ‘Yes he is,’ I answered the young woman. ‘How did you know?’”
‘I was sexually assaulted. I decided this was going to become a long suicide. I was a loser, complete trash, and I sold my soul to drugs and alcohol.’
“Here I was at 23, with Multiple Sclerosis and I needed a wheelchair. I grew into a deep depression. The party had ended. My mother would have to bathe me, feed me, dress me. I’d repay her with years of heartache. Also in these years, I found opiates.”
