It’s incredible how life seems to know exactly what you need and delivers it at just the right time. The memories of living with my great grandparents during the first four years of my life are what still carry me through my hardest days. I couldn’t have asked for a more loving, nurturing home. Looking back now, I see how that early foundation gave me the strength to survive what came later in my childhood. As I reflect, I can clearly see God’s hand in my life. For every trial, there was always an angel placed in my path to guide me through. Remembering that has helped me trust life more deeply and move through difficult seasons with a little more grace.
I don’t remember the exact day my great grandparents retired to Florida and I went to live with the stranger I called Mom. What I do remember is that the five years that followed were filled with domestic violence. I was just a small child, screaming and trying to help my mother as I witnessed the abuse from both husbands she had during that short span of time. Eventually, my mother and I escaped to a battered women’s shelter. That period is forever imprinted in my mind—a time when, despite being homeless, I finally felt safe.
I’ve spent years working to release the shame of finding myself in the very circumstances I grew up in. I was only 16 years old and about to become a mother. Looking back now, it breaks my heart to think that my own children lived through the same abuse I experienced as a child. At the same time, I understand it was simply what I knew. It was my “normal.” Just as my mother didn’t know any different, neither did I.
By 17, I was a mom, and by 20, I had three children. I desperately wanted better for them. At 18, I started my own business, driven entirely by the desire to give my kids the best life possible. Over time, I grew that business into a six-figure company. I was able to provide a home—complete with a dog—private school, and family vacations. Yet beneath it all, I was also giving them a home that mirrored my own childhood, one filled with fear, domestic violence, and dysfunction.
One day, I stumbled upon a small metaphysical store. To this day, I don’t know how I found it, but it marked the beginning of my spiritual journey. That journey led me down paths I never expected to walk, yet ones that brought healing and insight in ways years of therapy never had. It all started with a small book: You Can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay.
I never imagined that a book and this new path would give me the courage to leave my abusive marriage, but after 13 years, I finally did. I felt free—able to live life on my own terms. Then, as life often reminds us of its impermanence, one night changed everything. I almost lost one of my children to a very serious suicide attempt. The emotions were overwhelming. I felt completely numb. Deep down, I knew I needed something to help me survive this pain. I had recently found yoga and attended a talk given by my instructor about how “no one can hurt you.” The words stayed with me for weeks, and instinctively, I knew I had to reach out to her.
I will always be grateful for Lindsay, the remarkable woman who spent countless hours on the phone with me, gently explaining that my suffering came from wanting things to be different than they were. At the time, I thought she could read my mind. Now I understand that she was simply pointing to a universal truth. She guided me toward meditation teachers, and that guidance changed my life forever. Meditation became my secret weapon—helping me ease my anxiety, gain clarity, and survive one of the darkest chapters of my life.
Today, I intend to use meditation and Eastern philosophical teachings to heal myself, bring more good into the world, and offer others the same tools that saved my life. This past year, I worked alongside my Senator to help create a law that makes it easier for victims of domestic violence to file reports in New York State. Together, we passed it, and my Governor signed it into law in September 2019. That idea was born on my meditation cushion. I plan to continue using these teachings to help women navigate life’s challenges and connect with their children in deeper, more meaningful ways. I never truly understood what it meant to “find your bliss” until now. I found mine—and I hope, in time, you find yours too.
