As told by Patty:
Things weren’t perfect growing up. In fact, they were far from it. I experienced abuse, bounced between residential homes and foster programs, and struggled to keep friendships. I was a young child crying out for attention in all the wrong ways—and nobody seemed to hear me.
Everything changed when I was nearly killed by another child in one of those programs. That was the breaking point for my mom—she finally pulled me out and brought me home. But the damage was already there.
My grandfather was my anchor—my father figure, my best friend, my everything. When he passed away, things began to spiral once more. Not long after, my mother asked me to make an impossible choice: keep my job, my friends, and my schooling… or move with her to another state for her own relationship. I stayed behind.
Everything I stayed for included my boyfriend. Turned out he mattered more than I truly realized. His name is James who went from high school sweetheart to my wondeful husband.
When I turned 18, my family tried to kidnap me. It failed, but what followed was another string of chaos. I ended up living with James and his mom, but when she moved, we chose to stay behind. His stepmom didn’t like the way I dressed nor our computers and games. Eventually, she forced us apart. I was left at a McDonald’s in Clear Spring Maryland with all my belongings on the curb and about an hour of prepaid phone time left.
From there, I stayed with my best friend and her mom. After a severe reaction to a flu shot, I was sick for months. Her mom kicked me out my senior year of high school because I couldn’t attend class. That’s how I ended up in the New Hope shelter in Waynesboro.
Despite it all, I graduated from Franklin County Career & Technology Center, studying graphic design. I got a job, paid for my own prom, and got my own apartment all while in my senior year. I was the youngest person in the shelter to do all of that on my own. But the path wasn’t smooth. I ended up in an abusive relationship and had to claw my way back again.
Eventually, James and I found our way back to each other and two years later, I was pregnant with twins. In 2017, shortly after Thanksgiving, we moved to Massachusetts to live with my mother with our beautiful newborns. During that time, I attended a trade college for computer-aided drafting and design. But things took a heartbreaking turn—our twins, Alex and Sonya, were taken from us due to birth-related injuries that doctors failed to catch.
It was only after Sonya’s clavicle appeared misaligned during a routine appointment that the state intervened. Rather than investigate properly, we were blamed. Only later did I discover from my birth report that my son had also been injured at birth—and that’s what led to the issues. We lost precious time with our children during that first year. The judge was furious with the system for how we were treated, especially for preventing me from breastfeeding my babies. Eventually, we got them back at the young age of 10 months old.
We returned to Maryland, stayed with James’ parents again briefly, and then—right before the twins turned two—we got our own apartment. That moment was a victory. A marker of how far we’d come.
Looking back, I’ve faced so much darkness. But through it all, I’ve learned. I’ve grown. I’ve worked. I’ve raised my children and paid my own way. I’ve done what others said I couldn’t. I went to school. I graduated. I held jobs. And more than that—I’ve learned how to be a light for others.
James was a major turning point. He helped me see my worth. He treated people with respect no matter what, because as he says, “You never know what someone’s going through.” Even on my worst days, he saw the best in me. He helped me stand up to the adults in my life and say, “Enough.” That was the moment I truly began to move forward.
I did get therapy as a child—however back then, no one believed me. When I finally spoke up about the abuse that happened to me in the system, I was told it was too late. I was 15, about to turn 16, and the system said, “There’s nothing we can do.” But through the years, I’ve found healing through people who showed true love and joy—through soul sisters like Shelly and Micki, through people like Shari and Ernie who became family. They listened. They believed in me. And they helped me become who I am today.
My twins and husband drive me bananas on a daily, but I wouldn’t change the craziness for anything in the whole universe. Alex is silly like his daddy and smart like his mommy with a love for karate — Sonya is a wild sun child that follows her daddy’s interest with mommy’s attitude — my husband James is a goofball with a lack back attitude who would give the shirt off his back.
Because of everything I’ve experienced, I feel called to help others. At the New Hope Shelter, I was the first to volunteer, clean, help in the kitchen—anything I could do. I helped renovate the Alexander Hamilton Library, helped design the teen room, and even danced with a little girl in braces who couldn’t join the others. I told her, “Use my feet as your feet.” That moment—the joy in her eyes—reminded me why I do this.
I may not be a social butterfly, but I believe in being there for others. Even if it’s just a small gesture. Even if it seems trivial. Because you never know how much that moment might mean to someone else.
We wake up every day and find one good thing. One positive thought that doesn’t rely on circumstances. That’s how we keep going.
Life will knock you down. But your past doesn’t define you. What matters is what you do now—how you rise, how you heal, and how you help others do the same.
