The ember of low self-worth grew into a fire of illness. I developed a disease called Churg-Strauss. For years I tried to put out the flames, but nothing could stop the wildfire inside my body. “You have an auto-immune disease, where your body physically attacks itself.” “Do you think there’s a link with your disease and the fact that you hate yourself so much?” Those profound words made by a friend were the catalyst to me walking through the fire and becoming my own hero. Self-hatred is gradual and eats away at your soul. There wasn’t one major event that made me feel unworthy, it was many moments built up over time. The traumas and tragedies scorched my voice and hammered away my power. I lost myself and misplaced my purpose. It all began when my house burned down when I was 17 years old. This was my first taste of the molten heat. An inferno stole the structure of my life and left me feeling unsafe. For years I would choke on the emotional smoke. I didn’t know how to deal with this traumatic event, and it started to chip away at my spirit. I was lost and needed comfort. So, I sought refuge in men who in turned abused me emotionally, mentally, and physically. Each relationship chained me more to the idea I am not loveable. Then at 22, my dad couldn’t see his worth and decided to run from his pain. He faked his own death. He made us believe he drowned in the frigid waters. Hundreds of people scoured the shore searching for him. We dragged the river for three days before accepting he was gone. The flames grew. The most important man in my life abandoned me. This devasting event destroyed me and left me with third degree burns and ugly scars. In a twist of fate, he couldn’t go through with it. My father returned home. Only now can I see how incredibly brave he was for coming back. However back then, we were filled with humiliation. On the outside we were one happy family but, on the inside, we were broken. The fire of depression branded us to be social lepers. We were left to feel ashamed of a man battling his demons and faced the stigma of mental health issues. I masked up my pain and internalized it. I punished myself. I loathed the heat and resented the blows. I withdrew further from the fire. However, when we don’t deal with our emotions and learn to accept the flames, they will eventually deal with you. Two years later I developed this life-threatening disease. The burns consumed me, and I couldn’t see through the smouldering maze. I felt if I could project perfection and mask up my agony, then I could survive it. The problem with that mentality is, you will never thrive. Enduring the beatings, the heat, and the flames shattered me even more.
9
In 2013 I received a ray of hope when my baby girl was born. She was the light that pierced the darkness and showed me what unconditional love means. God knew I needed her love to bring me to the other side of hell. I fight through the flames for her. Three years later, I experienced my first miscarriage. Lies flooded my mind again and I thought agony was my life sentence. I spiralled into a deep depression and thought my baby girl would be better off without me. I was an unworthy woman and now an unworthy mother. Each devasting punch caused me to retreat. I still couldn’t see these blows were there to help me. Then a defining moment changed the trajectory of my life. I went to a church meeting where a woman healing minister was going to be, and I felt drawn to go. I said a prayer to God, “If there’s any hope for my life, please God, give me a sign.” In the middle of the service, the woman stopped and said someone was drawing on her so much she couldn’t continue. She walked over to me and told me, “God hears your cry. He sees your pain. The tears will end. Joy will come and you will write a book about it.” That was my sign! Hope reminded me my life wasn’t over, and I still had purpose. The fire was there to build resilience and power within. What I didn’t know is that I needed that sign of hope to carry me through more traumas and torment. I ended up having a collapsed lung while pregnant. I needed an emergency chest tube and a three-hour ambulance ride. I battled for my life and fought to keep my baby alive. My body couldn’t hang on though – another miscarriage. The flames of grief burned deep. This time was different though. Instead of resisting the firestorm, I stepped further into the blaze. This led me to write through my pain. I took those encouraging words from that minister and I birthed my book. Another blow was about to test my commitment to resiliency yet again. While writing my book, I experienced a third miscarriage. This was my transformation. I knew I could push past the suffering and rise through the ashes. This is what I was made for. I had set out what I wanted to do. Even though I had struggled to birth another baby, I was not barren. I began to birth my purpose and a Heroine was born. I realized if I hadn’t gone through all those fires, I wouldn’t have ever authored my book and rewritten my narrative. Heroine: Embrace Your Flaws & Own Your Awesome is the ultimate love story that embodies women empowerment.