Like many people my age, I come from a blended family. There’s my mom, step-dad, step-sister, my two brothers and me. I was six when my mom got remarried and I am now 22. While it was challenging growing up in a blended family, it was rewarding, too. Looking back now, I wouldn’t trade my situation because, in the end, it gave me my family, and I wouldn’t change my family for anything in the world. Read more »

I was asked to write an article for the “Stories that Inspire” section of this website. Wow. I never thought I would have made it to a point where I could inspire and be in a position where I could share my story. I have no way of telling how you wandered to this site and then this article, but I hope you find the support you’re looking for, as well as the words you need to hear to carry on. Read more »

Raised by parents who struggled with drug addiction, in an environment where abuse was rampant, I lived a childhood filled with setbacks, heartbreak and challenges. At 11, my dad beat my mom in the early hours of the morning and left for Cali and shortly thereafter ended up in prison. Read more »

I was in the 4th grade the first time someone called me the ‘n’ word. It was a teacher. At the time, I didn’t know what the word meant, but I remember going home and telling my family and the shock that swept over my mother’s face when I said it. Read more »

You can pretty much guarantee another baby.” I’m eavesdropping as I sit next to a girl talking to her friend on how to game the government benefits we are all here to collect. It’s a monthly check under a program called WIC (Women Infant and Children program) for moms that don’t make enough money to take care of themselves and their baby, or babies if you follow the advice of the girl next to me. It pays for things like formula and peanut butter. Read more »

My name is Mary Kominska and the story of my life may sound like something out of a novel or tabloid magazine. I say this because I have survived. Read more »

I was 17. It was another hot and humid summer evening and as usual my friends I were “partying”. Nothing that regular teenagers didn’t do at that time in the early 80’s. We always partied at the neighbors house because her mom worked the night shift and let’s be honest the rest of the parents would have never allowed that many teenagers in one house at one time. Read more »

Hello! My name is Jeanette.

I am an anxiety survivor. I didn’t know I was suffering from anxiety until I was in my 30’s. I
remember being told I Had mental health issues. I was handed a prescription and sent on my way. I sobbed all the way home from the Dr’s office. I didn’t know how I was going to tell my husband. After all, I thought I would need to be put in a straight jacket and locked in a padded cell. I mean isn’t that how Hollywood portrays mental health? I got home and told my husband. He said everything will be alright.

Fast forward a few years…I hadn’t told my parents about my diagnosis because I felt ashamed. Can anyone relate? We were getting ready to celebrate my father’s birthday, and one of the worst panic attacks kicked in. I didn’t want anyone to know. I went into the bathroom and turned the blow dryer on, pretending I was blow drying my hair. My Mom could still hear me.

She demanded that I let her in. I did, and I had to tell her about my anxiety and panic attacks. We stood for what seemed like forever. There was a single tear that rolled down my mom’s cheek. She then said, “I was hoping it would skip you, kids!” I couldn’t believe it. Did she just tell me that she had anxiety too? Here my mom was in her 60’s and she had suffered in silence all this time. That really clarified a lot of things throughout my childhood. It was at that point that even though I am only one person, my voice needed to be heard. We need to stop the stigma that comes with mental health. Here I am sharing my story with all of you.