There was a time when I had no home — no safe place to sleep, no privacy, and no idea how I was going to survive another day. Homelessness stripped me of everything I thought defined me. It left me exposed, judged, and emotionally wrecked. What most people don’t understand is that homelessness isn’t just about losing a roof over your head — it’s about the crushing weight of invisibility, the constant danger, the trauma of not knowing where you belong. For me, it came after years of abuse, addiction, and heartbreak. And it was one of the most humbling, terrifying seasons of my life. But it was also the beginning of a rebuilding I never thought possible. I clawed my way back — through recovery, healing, faith, and sheer grit. I rebuilt my life brick by brick, not just externally, but internally. Today, I carry the strength of someone who’s been at the bottom and made her way home — to herself. If you’re in that place now — or trying to heal from what you survived — I want to talk with you. I see you. I believe in your ability to rise.