When asked how my journey to self-intentionality began, I always return to the very beginning. As my therapist often reminds me, I’ve been navigating trauma for as long as I can remember. Healing, truly loving oneself, and finding peace isn’t linear—it’s a path full of detours, setbacks, and small victories. To understand who I am today, I must revisit my past, touching on milestones that collectively shaped the woman you see before you.
Domestic violence was woven into the fabric of my earliest memories. I remember being just three or four years old, forced to drink raw eggs and smoke half a cigarette by my mom’s boyfriend—my sister’s father—as punishment for picking up a cigarette butt in my grandmother’s yard. I was watched like an animal as I gagged, forced to start over or drink my own vomit, woken in the middle of the night for “ceremonial discipline.” Even as a small child, I felt helpless, frustrated, and angry, with no control over my circumstances. The abuse escalated as I grew older. My kindergarten teachers noticed marks on my body, which I tried to hide. By third grade, I had been pulled from class after scratching my wrists with paperclips in a desperate attempt at suicide.
At that time, my biological father intervened and tried to take custody of me, but the court system failed. I was returned to my mother’s home, where my abuser warned me in no uncertain terms: if I ever spoke about the abuse again, I wouldn’t survive. Survival mode became my default. As a child, I became highly intentional in how I navigated life. I was a straight-A student, careful to stay out of trouble, and acutely aware of my actions, believing that if I behaved and performed well, I might somehow survive to adulthood and start over.
Throughout my teens, I juggled school, nearly full-time work, and a social life. Intentionality wasn’t always at the forefront, but looking back, I realize how dedicated I was to maintaining balance and preserving my peace.
I managed this delicate balance until the end of my sophomore year of college, when life abruptly shifted. At 19, I became homeless due to conflicts with roommates at a neighboring university. Seeking independence, I moved in with coworkers from my job, only to be kicked out and threatened within a month. I was fortunate that another coworker offered me shelter, but I quickly learned I wasn’t prepared for life in the heart of Druid Hills, Baltimore. With my car full of belongings and sleeping on a worn mattress in an apartment infested with mice and bugs, I realized I had to shift my mindset if I wanted to change my circumstances.
During those three months, I poured into myself—journaling, reflecting, and exploring my spirituality. Then I met a woman seven years my senior, who had experienced similar challenges in college. She co-signed our apartment lease and paid the first month’s rent. Her presence was transformative. She taught me self-care, self-love, and the profound impact of intention in shaping one’s life. I even began noticing Angel Numbers and considered my calling as a healer. Her vibrancy and guidance ignited a spark in me, though the journey was far from over.
After her departure in the second month, I faced eviction and a new, daunting challenge: a lupus diagnosis. Following nearly two weeks in the hospital, with barely any food or water as doctors struggled to identify the issue, I returned home with an overwhelming array of medications—painkillers, steroids, and opioids—to manage chronic chest pain and debilitating back spasms. I remember telling my dad, a surgeon, “I can’t maintain these medications—they make me feel strange, exhausted, and weak in the knees.”
Trying to balance school and work with lupus proved impossible. But I refused to live like a “zombie” on prescriptions. I shifted my lifestyle intentionally: adopting pescetarianism, prioritizing exercise, maintaining low stress, and getting adequate sleep. Slowly, my flares subsided. I felt stronger physically, mentally, and emotionally than ever before—though, as life would show, this stability would again be tested.
Nine months later, I discovered I was pregnant, ending my junior year of college. Depression and stress followed as I dropped out to begin my career in property management. Yet, I knew I had a responsibility to my daughter. Determined to provide the stability and love I never had, I leaned into intentional living. By the time my daughter turned one, I owned a condo and managed a property portfolio, finally feeling a sense of control, accountability, and purpose.
The stability faltered again when I met my ex-husband, who initially seemed stable but turned out to be abusive, an alcoholic, and an addict. I attempted to help him, foolishly believing he could change. By the time our second daughter arrived, I realized the danger I was in. He continued to be manipulative and violent, forcing me to hide the severity of our home life to protect myself and my children.
After discovering I was pregnant with my third daughter, his abuse escalated—he choked me and tried to kill me. Though he manipulated me into returning once, I left with a renewed determination to protect myself and my children. Over the next year and a half, I rebuilt my support system, journaled, and processed the trauma that had defined my life for so long.
The breaking point came when he pawned precious belongings, including my last daughter’s stroller, and attacked me physically with the baby in my arms. I packed my bags, called my therapist, and left. With a protection order in place, we moved, and we haven’t looked back since.
Throughout these experiences, self-love and affirmation were my lifeline. Feeding myself positivity and surrounding myself with supportive people illuminated even my darkest moments. Over time, intentional living became second nature. Each deliberate choice—from how I spoke to myself, to how I parented my daughters, to the businesses I supported—shaped my present.
Today, I run my shop, Mom-Tings, encouraging women to build intentional relationships with themselves through simple acts like using a bar of soap, alongside intuitive healing services. I use my platform to demonstrate that deliberate deposits into self-will reap profound returns. Intentionality, born from childhood survival, has become the essence of who I am. While I’m far from perfect, every day I strive to show up fully, modeling for my daughters and community the power of co-creating a life rooted in conscious choice and self-love.
Living intentionally means showing up every day and deliberately making decisions aligned with your highest self. My journey is a testament that, even from the deepest pain, a life of purpose, resilience, and light is possible.
