I wasn’t born into safety.

I was separated from my birth mother at birth and adopted into a home where emotions were absent. No hugs. No “I love you.” Just silence, comparison, and guilt. My adoptive mother often reminded me how much better her deceased daughter had been—as if I was just a stand-in. That kind of neglect doesn’t just hurt—it convinces you you’re unworthy of love.

By my teens, I was unraveling. Anger, self-harm, addiction, and eventually, a coerced abortion at 16 that was treated like it never happened. That moment shattered me. What followed was years of self-destruction, desperate for love in all the wrong places.

My first marriage nearly killed me—literally. After years of brutal physical abuse and a gun held to my head, I fled with my baby, traumatized but alive. My second marriage brought emotional abuse, manipulation, and abandonment. No bruises this time, but the scars ran deep.

When both of my adoptive parents died, I lost the last scraps of stability I had. I remarried and moved to Germany with two of my children and a newborn—forced to leave one child behind. It broke me.

David, my new husband, had his own hell to heal from. As a boy, he was brutally beaten, locked up for days with little food, and treated like the family scapegoat while his siblings were celebrated. He survived by disappearing—emotionally, mentally, spiritually.

We loved each other, but trauma doesn’t disappear just because you cross an ocean. Germany brought cultural clashes, spiritual confusion, and toxic in-laws who targeted me. I became isolated, rejected, and deeply depressed. Eventually, I hit bottom and tried to take my own life.

But even there, God met me.

Not religion. Not shame. But the real Jesus—the one who rescues, rebuilds, and restores. Slowly, I began to heal. And so did David. We broke generational cycles, confronted hard truths, and built something new on the rubble of our past.

Today, I’m a trauma-certified coach, a speaker, a mom of five, and an Oma to five more. I help survivors of abuse and religious trauma reclaim their voice, their faith, and their freedom.

Our story is proof:
God doesn’t waste pain.
Healing is possible.
And your past does not disqualify you—it equips you.