For a long time, I went to bed early, always reluctantly, grumbling, cursing, and dragging my feet. The time to go to bed was suffering, a break from life, a phase that nothing or no one would eve ... [+]
There once lived a girl named Hope, in a grand house that never felt like home. She lived with her mother, stepfather, and two stepbrothers. People who filled the rooms with noise but none with warmth. Her real father had been a gangster, deported, attempting to abuse her leaving behind nothing but whispers and her name.
At home, Hope was treated like a servant. Her mother made her scrub every corner of the house. If the dishes weren't spotless, she'd have to start again and again until her mother's anger ran out. Most times her anger turned into physical beatings. Hope learned from a young age to just lower her head and stay quiet, making herself small. When she wasn't cleaning, she was locked in her room, her mother's footsteps always threatening to break through the door. Some nights, the bruises on her arms pulsed with pain; others, it was her heart that hurt more.
No one knew what she endured. At times, she thought of ending it all by silencing the pain forever but something deep inside stopped her. Maybe it was her future self whispering to her.
At school, Hope could breathe. She didn't have many friends, but even a smile in the hallway felt like sunlight. School was her escape, her tiny rebellion against the life waiting for her at home. She once asked her mother if she could join the soccer team, but her mother refused.
At random moments, her mother would call her stupid and insist she'd grow up to be a failure. Once, she even showed Hope a picture of Cinderella surrounded by children with no father and said, "That'll be you someday." Those words stung, but Hope whispered to herself that they weren't true. She held onto the secret belief that one day, she'd prove it.
Every night, she wrote letters to her mother, letters full of love, apologies, and hope. "I still love you. I wish you loved me too" she'd write. Her mother read them but never replied. Hope wrote anyway. It was the only way she knew how to cope.
She wasn't a straight A student, but she passed her classes. And when graduation day came, during Hope's graduation ceremony her mother seemed to be satisfied but never heard it from her mother. Hope smiled anyway because she was happy with her own accomplishments.
After high school, she enrolled in college and still lived at home for a little while. Her commute was three hours by bus, but it was worth every mile. She joined the wrestling team and met a boy who made her laugh. For the first time, she felt seen.
But things at home grew unbearable. Every argument, every insult, pushed her closer to leaving. When her grandmother offered her a space at her studio, Hope packed her things up and left. Having no plan, no safety net. She was nineteen and alone in the world, but free. Finally, a free bird.
She juggled work and college, paying bills, learning how to survive. Having to learn so many things along the way without any guidance. There were nights she ate cereal for dinner and mornings she woke up before dawn to catch the bus. She switched her major three times, trying to find where she belonged.
Then one night, after a fight with her boyfriend, Hope broke down. She called the police on herself, sobbing that she didn't want to live anymore. The police then admitted her where she spent two days in a mental hospital, echoing days that changed everything. She realized she never wanted to end up there again. She had been given another chance, and this time she would go all in. Making a promise to herself she'd never end up in a place like that.
After three years with her grandmother, Hope and her boyfriend moved in together, but the struggles didn't stop. Bills piled up. Hope had to drop out of school for a while to work full-time. Yet she never gave up the dream of finishing her education.
Eventually, she returned to school, steady job in hand, her focus sharper than ever. She began rebuilding her life piece by piece. Then came a phone call from her grandmother: her mother was sick. Hope hesitated, for a week she really gave it a thought; about visiting her mother then decided to make the visit. Despite everything, she still loved her. Some part of her always would. Communication with her mother was very occasional.
As college neared its end, Hope met with a counselor who told her, "If you want to finish within three years you must, go full-time."
It terrified her; quitting her stable job, risking her income, walking a tightrope with no net. But Hope had spent her whole life in survival mode anyway so this wasn't unfamiliar. She quit her job, took the leap of faith, and went all in.
All at the same time, she ended her long-term relationship. Due to feeling she wasn't herself and staying stagnant. It hurt, but she knew she couldn't grow while standing still. So she moved out again, found a part-time job, and poured everything she had into school.
The stress was relentless bills, homework, loneliness but she kept going. She then seeked help and started therapy. Joined the Rowing team, her early morning practices became her sanctuary.
Then, one morning on the way to practice, she crashed her car. The metal twisted, glass shattered but she survived. After telling her mother and step father she was in a car accident Hope expected them to help her in any way possible. That wasn't the case. Hope cried herself to sleep that whole week. Everyday Hope got on the bus day by day, bruised but breathing, determined to keep moving forward.
Having no one to lead on for support, Hope had to find ways to get back on the road to success. She biked to class, took late buses home, and worked late night shifts to make rent. Some days she cried from exhaustion. Hope fell into deep depression and felt unloved, but this made Hope resilient and made her not give up. This feeling was very familiar. Some nights she prayed for a sign that it would all be worth it.
She felt out of place at her university, invisible in crowded halls. Feeling like she didn't belong because she couldn't make new friends and even feeling socially awkward. Eventually, she was diagnosed with ADHD and mild autism. The words explained so much her anxiety, her loneliness but also gave her strength. She wasn't broken; she was different. For the first time, she understood that her mind wasn't her enemy, instead it was her superpower. Her empathy, perseverance, sensitivity, were the very things that kept her going.
Through therapy, faith, and relentless effort, Hope began to heal. She learned that love didn't always come from family, sometimes it came from within.
Hope graduated with a bachelor's degree in Adapted Physical Education, a field born from her pain and her passion. She dedicated her life to helping children with special needs, to showing them that their challenges did not define them.
She opened a facility for kids who needed a place to belong, a place she once wished existed for her. She became a motivational speaker and author, sharing her story with others who felt like giving up.
Standing before a crowd one evening, she said:
"Sometimes life takes everything from you; your safety, your faith, your joy. But when you decide to go all in, to fight for your dreams even when no one believes in you, that's when you win. I didn't have a plan B. I only had hope."
Hope became the woman who taught the world that even the smallest spark can light the darkest path as long as you never give up on it. The woman who became her own light.