A truth that deserves to be told

Growing up, my world was defined by pain. My father's alcoholism cast a shadow of fear over our home, transforming childhood into a constant state of anxiety and survival. I watched my mother suffer, feeling powerless and angry. At just eight years old, the brutal murder of my aunt who was only 24 shattered any sense of safety, and my brother's battle with addiction became another battle out family had to fight My own addiction was a desperate attempt to numb the pain. Drugs became my escape, I lost myself completely – watching my family cry while feeling nothing, experiencing three suicide attempts that were less about dying and more about screaming for help in the only way I knew how. The turning point came through loss and love. The death of our stepdad – the man who chose to love us when he didn't have to – broke something inside of me. In my deepest moment of grief, I began to understand the power of love. I also witnessed the devastating power of words. Friends lost to suicide, crushed not by drugs, but by the rejection and harsh words of those who should have loved them most. I realized that healing doesn't come from shame or judgment, but from compassion and understanding. My story isn't just about survival. It's about transformation. It's about understanding that our deepest wounds can become our greatest source of strength. I learned that words have power – they can destroy, but they can also heal. Today, I stand as a testament to hope. My brother is clean. I am healing. And I've discovered that true strength isn't about never falling, but about rising every time we fall.

Two weeks before my sister Crystal invited me to the women's retreat, I was in a very dark place I had yelled, screamed, and challenged God demanding he reveals himself like he had for the people in the Bible like Moses. When silence was my only response, I gave up. I stopped praying, closed my heart, convinced myself that God held no place in my heart anymore. The retreat invitation felt like a joke. I made every excuse to avoid going, but my sister's persistence won. I agreed to attend, not for myself, but to support her. I wasn't expecting anything in return from anyone especially God..Little did I know, the miracle I was about to receive...

Walking into the huge house, I instantly regretted it but Surrounded by my sisters and my cousin Briza, I started to feel comfortable As we gathered in the living room in a circle, I kelp my guards up, listening but keeping my heart at a distance. I met Melissa a few years ago. As she told her story to me. It hit different – She talked about how God changed every area of her life. As she shared her struggles, something inside me shifted I realized I wasn't alone in my pain. Her words about God's grace spoke directly to my heart, Her raw honesty convinced me that healing can sometimes comes through unexpected conversations.

During prayer and worship something happened. An intense, burning sensation, touched my heart in ways I couldn't understand. The weight of my doubt I carried for so long,lifted, filled me with hope again. In that moment, I heard God's whisper in my ear It me, "I'm here." The presence was so powerful that even the women sitting beside me felt the presence of something loving and real. It touched my heart in ways I still can't comprehend.

My sister Crystal urged me to share my story. I Just smiled and shrugged but a seed had been planted. I started a blog, pouring out my Thoughts learning that telling my story helped me make sense of my past. Weeks passed, and doubt crept in. Would sharing my truth damage relationships With family, the people that mean the world to me but then a friend told me my words had given someone hope who had been struggling. In that instant, I knew that even through my vulnerability, I decided to continue sharing my story not for sympathy, but to offer hope. Yes, my scars remain. Yes, old fears still visit me. But now I can recognize my patterns, forgive myself, and keep moving forward. I'm still healing. My story isn't about perfection, I'm a work in progress but by telling my truth, I found my strength.

I want to thank My sister Crystal.She stood by me through every stumble, every failure, never once turning her back on me. When others walked away, she continued to root for me, believe in me, and love me without condition. Your story needs to be shared," she would tell me, She saw my potential when I was blind to it, believed in my worth when I had lost all hope. My sister showed me the true meaning of unconditional love that many never get to experience, a love that stands firm through darkness, that lifts you up when you can't stand, that sees your light even when you're convinced it's gone. I am blessed to call her my sister. Thank you. I love you more than you can imagine