Growing up in a very dysfunctional family and seeing many of my family members struggling with substance and alcohol abuse, I had to become very mature at a very young age. I had to establish boundaries and define how my relationships would be with my family members. As I had to “get on the balcony” (Northouse 263), my adaptive leadership style took root. The household was full of domestic violence and life was in a constant state of stress and crises. I had to learn to “regulate distress” (Northouse 266) and remain calm and communicative. Being my own advocate, I had to talk to many adults, parents, police, social workers from Child Protective Service, psychologists, mediators, judges, and pastors, all of whom were trying to either help, hinder, or harm me. Communication was a huge learning process—I would constantly pray for wisdom and discernment. I had to articulate my thoughts and emotions through journaling and during counseling sessions. I had to look at myself and my situation and talk about it with others, which took a great degree of “disciplined attention” (Northouse 269) and practice. In the long run, it kept me emotionally sane and gave me confidence in myself in the fact that I could take care of me and represent myself not only well, but impressively in the eyes of adults. God was my strength and kept me from falling apart. He became my Father and my Comfort when my father was not doing his job. God is the source of my joy and the life of my smile that seems to never leave my face. He gave me a passion for fixing the injustice in the world as well as “protecting leadership voices from below” (Northouse 271) and hearing those that are usually marginalized or ignored.
Prayerfully waiting for the right time to act, I eventually came to a mutual decision with my mom that we would leave our family home—I was 8. We had to leave in order to keep ourselves safe and healthy and away from family that was trying to hurt us. Emotionally, I lost my family and even some friends as they did not understand my life and what I was going through—I had seen and was seeing so much more than anyone could’ve understood or experienced at the age of both 9 and even 59. Many adults didn’t believe me and couldn’t comprehend the fact that domestic violence was going on, that my dad was an alcoholic and had a mental illness, that my family was dangerous to me—they were uninformed and didn’t care to learn what was happening behind closed doors. I was emotionally more mature than my family and my friends and felt lonely and at a loss for community. I went through a period of depression as I grieved over my losses and the changes that were going on around me. Feeling rejected, I became more sensitive, empathic, and kind to others as you never really know what is going on in their lives. No one ever can know the full story, but you can show kindness is all that you do and maybe make someone’s day. Through it all, I learned great fortitude and faith—everything hurt, but I kept going. I didn’t crumble under it all and it didn’t break me—I was able to get up and out of the danger because of Christ Jesus. He provided miracles and the right people at the right time. When I was homeless, God provided my mom and I with places to be and people to stay with. When I was hungry, He provided generous people and food banks. God provides at the 11th hour at the 59th minute and 59th second, but He provides and taught me patience every single day in the process. Also, I came to terms with being set apart from others—I am very defined in that I am not easily peer pressured. I had to make bold and difficult decisions, and it made me strong and courageous. Looking back, I see that it showed me how “the other” of society lives because I was now one of them. I went to the food banks. I didn’t have a home. I spent a lot of time at coffee shops, at the mall, or in the car with my mom because we had nowhere else to go. I would do homework in between counseling appointments and my dad continuing to try to abuse me. Because of my experiences, I developed a passion for helping the homeless and the single mother. My maturity and empathy and love for others only continues to grow because I have experienced this.
In addition, my mom has PTSD among other maladies, and my dad is mentally ill and his brain is deteriorated because of his alcoholism. I had learned about my mom’s disabilities and come to understand them. My dad’s illness still shocks me, and it grieves me that I cannot do anything. These events combined grow my empathy, love, and my desire to help others. Now, I presently volunteer at Friends for Life, which is an adult daycare for those with disabilities.
My heart seeks to fix injustice, help those in need, fix the broken, and show others what God has planned for them if they would just let Him take control of their lives. My goal is for everyone to achieve their fullest potential in Christ and grow as an individual because I have seen through my family what happens when you don’t take care of yourself and don’t be who you are supposed to be in Christ. As a whole, my life hasn’t been easy and change is still hard, but God has grown in me the great tools to now build and maintain great, healthy relationships, understand others, understand myself, and be bold in the name of Christ Jesus. I have learned to trust myself and God and be an encourager and a leader in good times and in bad. In short, I simply have a passion for people and community.