Help Me Stay Housed While Recovering From a Life-Changing Accident On September 6th, my life changed in an instant when a driver crossed into my lane on Ortega Highway and hit me head-on. My car was thrown into the air and I nearly lost my life. My vehicle was completely totaled. I spent four months in the hospital. The first part was in a trauma unit where I was placed in an induced coma and underwent multiple life-saving surgeries. I was then transferred to an acute care facility where I required critical support, including IVs, a tracheostomy, a feeding tube, and dialysis. My injuries included: Loss of my right leg Six broken ribs and two vertebrae Broken pelvis, right arm, and wrist Multiple fractures in my left leg Kidney and heart failure from trauma Many of my injuries required surgical repair with metal hardware that I am still healing from After returning home, my focus has been recovery. I’ve faced infections, complications, and delayed healing that hav...
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Growing up, I was often told I didn’t fit in, and unfortunately, the school system failed to see my potential. As a child, I was diagnosed with hyperactivity disorder and put on Ritalin. One day, my dad came home to find me sitting on the couch like a zombie, drooling. Alarmed, he asked my mom what had happened, and she explained that my teacher thought I had too much energy and needed medication because I couldn’t sit still. My dad was furious and said, “If they can’t keep up with her energy, then they need to hire more teachers. But you’re not going to dope up my child.” Thank God he stood his ground.
However, this wasn’t the end of my struggles. I was led to believe I had a learning disability, which was only reinforced by my mother who constantly called me stupid. When it came time to learn my alphabet, if I made mistakes, I was punished. The beatings instilled a deep association between learning and fear, which I carried with me throughout my life. I didn’t have a learning disability—I had a fear disability. Tests became a source of terror, and I would almost blackout from fear, a direct result of the trauma I endured as a child.
At school, the teachers didn’t understand me either. I learned that I was a kinesthetic learner, which explained my constant need to move. I’m still fidgety well into my 50s. I didn’t fit into the rigid mold the education system tried to impose, and as a result, I was labeled an outsider, struggling to connect with both teachers and classmates.
Attending Catholic school was another nightmare. Nuns were allowed to physically discipline students, and I was on the receiving end of much cruelty. I recall rulers being smashed across my knuckles, and words that broke my spirit. Looking back, I’m amazed I made it through that period of emotional and physical abuse.
Despite all this, I always had a deep love for learning. Some subjects captivated me—mechanical drawing in junior high was a class I excelled in, and I also found history, art, and science fascinating. The hands-on experiments—like the sulfur and peanut tests—brought learning to life. I excelled in physical education, setting records in sit-ups and pull-ups, and enjoyed home economics, where I learned to cook and sew. In high school, I chose cross-country over track because the idea of running through hills was far more exciting than running in circles.
It was when I was discovered as a model that I truly began my real education. Living in Europe opened my eyes to new languages, cultures, art, history, and culinary delights. Museums became my classrooms, and I soaked in everything I could.
Upon returning home, I pursued courses in real estate, photography, and fine arts at a local community college. However, the structure of traditional education—with mandatory subjects like math and English that didn’t serve my passions—felt limiting. My self-education had already surpassed what formal schooling could offer, so I made the decision to drop out and follow my own path.
One thing I am incredibly grateful for is my natural creativity. As a child, I could effortlessly piece things together—whether it was fabrics, textures, home decor, or even arranging outfits. Later, photography and composition became second nature. I have always been drawn to the finer things in life, not necessarily luxury items, but the beauty in simplicity and the art of making something special out of the everyday. I create something out of nothing, using just a vision in my head and the ability to bring it to life. It took a few selfless people to point out my natural gift, and I will forever be thankful for them.
If only schools could take more time to recognize the uniqueness in each student, rather than trying to mold everyone into the same box. If they could develop and nurture individual talents, we would have a far higher rate of success, and we’d be raising a generation of inventors, creators, artists, thinkers, and philosophers. When you allow people to explore their passions, you allow them to thrive.
Today, I am working toward a PhD in Metaphysical Sciences, exploring the mind, brain, spirit, and soul. My journey has been one of reprogramming my subconscious mind, breaking free from the negative beliefs instilled by my mother, the school system, and society. These institutions tried to convince me that without formal education, I wouldn’t amount to anything. But I’ve learned that true education isn’t about a piece of paper—it’s about living, experiencing, and growing.
I know many people with degrees who lack life skills, self-awareness, and the ability to think critically. Their knowledge is often confined to textbooks, and many industries they trained for are becoming obsolete. I believe in the power of real-life learning and personal discovery. Education is a lifelong journey, and the richest lessons come not from classrooms, but from embracing life itself.
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