Anchor in the Chaos

      After my internship at Disney ended in June 2015, the magic quickly gave way to reality. I returned to what I consider my hometown—Virginia Beach, the only place I’ve lived long enough to truly call home. The transition was emotional and grounding. I had to adjust from the whirlwind of Disney life back to a more typical rhythm.      Shortly after my return, I reconnected with my ex-boyfriend, Leo. After several attempts over the years to make things work, we decided to give it another shot—this time with more commitment. We moved in together, marking a major milestone: my first apartment with my name on the lease (his was on it too), outside of the Disney housing. Until then, I’d always lived with roommates in places they rented or owned. It felt like a huge adult step.      Our relationship felt smooth, whether it was the honeymoon phase or the comfort of familiarity. In September 2015, Leo proposed. A year later, in September 201...

       Life has a way of throwing curveballs when you least expect it. My move to Wilmington, NC was supposed to be a fresh start—a chance to better myself and chase something more fulfilling. And in many ways, it was. But beneath the surface, I was still searching for love in all the wrong places, hoping to fill a void that needed healing, not distraction. 💔 Wilmington: A New Beginning with Unexpected Turns 💔      Wilmington held promise. I had a job, a new city, and the hope of transformation. But then, the unexpected happened—the company I worked for shut down its Wilmington office, leaving many of us jobless. It was a tough blow, but thankfully, I had already started applying elsewhere. One of those applications was to the Disney College Program in Florida—a long shot, but a dream nonetheless. 🎢 Orlando Bound: Living the Disney Dream 🎢      To my surprise and delight, I was accepted into the program. This was more than just a jo...

     The year of 2013 into 2014 was yet another chapter of chaos in my life—though I didn’t know it then, change was on the horizon.      I stayed on a destructive path: drinking too much, staying out too late with friends, and constantly searching for love in all the wrong places. I was still living with Kara—who was like a mother to me—trying to be somewhat responsible by paying rent, keeping up with bills (to an extent), completing online college courses, and working full-time. But none of that ever stopped me from drinking.      After attending a friend’s wedding, I had a moment of reckoning. I looked in the mirror and saw someone I didn’t recognize or want to be. I was miserable. I was gaining weight from the drinking. And deep down, I knew I needed a change.      After a heartfelt conversation with Kara, we agreed it was time for me to move on. I ended up relocating to Wilmington, NC, with her then-husband, Bill, in hope...

     This phase of my life was a whirlwind—blurry, raw, and filled with lessons I didn’t yet know I was learning. Through it all, I was lucky to have Linda in my corner. She was more than a friend—she was a quiet force of grace, always trying to advocate for me, even speaking with my dad during a time when I couldn’t quite find my own voice. Our lunches at Tropical Smoothie were a small comfort, and her son Jimmy was one of my early relationships here in Virginia Beach.      While I stayed out of legal trouble during this time, I didn’t stop drinking after my DWI. I thought I could be more responsible—control the time and place—but the truth is, I was still trying to numb myself. I was working at Homewood Suites until September 2013, and I’ll never forget being nominated during National Travel and Tourism Week. That meant something to me.      I later transitioned to SpringHill Suites to become a Night Auditor. I wanted more experience becaus...

    From the outside, my life between 2010 and 2012 probably looked like a wild, carefree young adult figuring things out. But the truth is, it was a blur—one I thought at the time was me "living my best life." Looking back now, it was anything but that.      In April 2010, I lost my Nana to cancer. That was the beginning of the unraveling. She and my Granddaddy were the foundation of our family—our traditions, our love, our togetherness. Her death left a hole, not just in me but especially in my Aunt Sharon. They were best friends, and losing Nana shattered something in all of us.      I was drifting—moving in and out of my dad and stepmom’s house depending on whatever reason I was given. “You woke your dad up with your footsteps,” or “If you say you’ll be home at 10, be home at 10.” “His house, his rules.” It wasn’t a home—it was a place I passed through. Deep down, I know I was craving love and comfort, things I felt like I missed out on d...

    After my 21st birthday, something shifted within me. Sometime before and thereafter, my family started calling me “crazy” or even “coocoo for cocoa puffs” because I had reached a point where I didn’t care about anything or anyone but myself. I’m not entirely sure what caused this version of me to surface—maybe it was the fact that I had to grow up fast, being the oldest, afraid of getting into trouble. But in the end, those were just excuses.      What does “crazy” mean in this context? Well, relationships became my escape, my priority, my rebellion. I would stay out really late, not coming home, or I would stay the night at my boyfriend’s house—one night often turning into two, then three. My dad hated this. He hated it more than I cared to admit. At that stage in my life, I didn’t care what he thought. I did what I wanted anyway.      At one point, I had a Ford Focus. My dad, being the co-signer, threatened to sell it—and then did. I wa...

     I was never the perfect child. In fact, I was just starting to come out of my shell as I adjusted to life in a new state—Virginia. I had officially entered adulthood… or so I thought. I was building new friendships and slowly learning who I was becoming outside the comfort of my hometown.      About a month before my 21st birthday, someone offered me a fake ID. I turned it down. Part of me was still a little scared, but honestly? I wasn’t that desperate to drink. I figured I could wait—it wasn’t that deep.      Then came January 31st, 2010. My 21st birthday. A night I’ll never forget. My friends went out of their way to make it special. My very first shot was pink lemonade vodka (yes, I remember it clearly), and we ended up playing Pretty Pink Princess —with marshmallows. It was ridiculous and hilarious, and I felt so loved. That night was pure joy, surrounded by people who genuinely cared about me.      After that night? ...

     The summer of 2007 was a turning point in my life. Leaving Pickerington, Ohio meant saying goodbye to the familiar—a town I had called home for two years, my first jobs at Steak N Shake and Kroger Marketplace, and countless friendships and acquaintances. But the hardest goodbye? Felisha .      Felisha wasn’t just a friend—she was my best friend. We had built a bond so strong that every weekend felt like an extension of our family lives. If I wasn’t at her house, she was at mine. There were days when we dressed as twins, just because we could. Our friendship was effortless, deep, and meaningful.      Our senior Prom was supposed to be something we skipped, but we realized that this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. So, we did what made sense—we went together as each other’s date. The night ended at Steak N Shake, filled with laughter and memories that would stay with me forever.      Felisha’s family became an extension ...