Have you ever felt like the cards were stacked against you? Like you had something to prove not only to yourself, but also to the people who had no faith in you, your dreams, or your hopes for the future?

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I have.

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There were so many people in my life who doubted my abilities. My mom’s friends would say things like, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” or “You’re just like your mom.” I hated hearing those words. They made me feel small and insignificant.

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One of my mom’s brothers, who she never got along with and eventually forbade me from seeing, once told me he was worried I would turn out just like her—mentally and emotionally unstable. I didn’t blame him for feeling that way, but it hurt that he didn’t believe I could be different from the person who raised me. He was one of many people in the camp of criticism I was determined to prove wrong.

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I could have let those voices control my destiny. I could have fulfilled their belief that I would be no better than my mom. And sometimes, their words did get me down. But more often, they fueled me. I became determined to make my life better and to break the cycle of trauma.

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I chose not to be a victim of abuse. Abuse was something that happened to me, but it was not who I was. Even though terrible things happened, I refused to let them define me. Trauma did not become my identity—yet there is no doubt it shaped me into who I am today.