This Is Who I Am

As a child, I imagined myself married by twenty-two, travelling the world and living with luminous freedom. This year I turned twenty-one and the entire concept of my future changed. I have grown up in a small town, knowing I need to leave as soon as the time is right. The funny thing about time is that it changes everything. Worry turns to wisdom, movement leads to meaning, and life goes on. The time is now.

Social media has exhausted the idea of childhood trauma, but in order for you to understand my story, I have to briefly mention it.

The memories from my childhood are masked by my mother’s illness. My mom had a genetic liver disease called PBC (Primary Biliary Cirrhosis). My recollection of my younger self is the anger I felt having to watch my mom die slowly. I have an older brother with Down syndrome, who I tried to shield from the reality of our mother’s illness. My anxiety manifested itself into an early diagnosis of Ulcerative Colitis. Both my mother and I were hospitalized when I was ten.

The next year, my mother’s health continued to decline. My aunt was a perfect match to donate a piece of her liver to save my mom's life. I will never forget having to say goodbye to her the night before her transplant. We received a call that a surgeon had made a mathematical error, causing the transplant to be cancelled. The drive home after picking up my mom from the hospital was the most devastating day of my life. My family began to give up on the idea of having my mom alive much longer. At age eleven my school attendance significantly dropped. My older brother had an Educational Assistant at the time, named Mrs. Duke. To our surprise, she had tested as a perfect match to donate a piece of her liver. The transplant took place on March 26, 2012, and it was a success!

I grew up in a Christian home, yet I had felt nothing but the absence of God in my life. During this time I would cry, praying for my mom's pain to be mine. After the transplant, my mom had to undergo several surgeries, but eventually, she was mine again. God gave my family an angel to save my mom's life. God gave me my mom back.

I am now twenty-one and carry those days with me as if they were yesterday. As a child, I was always forced into therapy, but nothing ever healed like writing. This is how I turned blame into bravery and put the pieces together after I’ve torn myself apart.

I invite you to read, learn, and grow with me.