From surviving to thriving.

My journey began in my 30's with what seemed like a simple feeling of being unwell. It felt like I constantly had the flu. I would take cold medicine just to make it through the day, convincing myself that tomorrow would be better. But tomorrow never came.

After living this way for nearly a year, I knew something more was going on. I sought answers from local doctors, but no one could explain why I felt so sick. Eventually, I traveled to the University of Chicago, where I was diagnosed with undifferentiated connective tissue disease and, later, fibromyalgia and arthritis.

I was relieved to finally have a diagnosis. I thought the right medications would restore my health. Instead, they only managed a few symptoms while leaving so many others untouched. The overwhelming fatigue, brain fog, chronic pain, migraines, digestive issues, foot pain that felt like I was walking on rocks, restless leg syndrome, asthma, and recurring lung problems remained.

So, I did what so many people living with chronic illness do — I kept pushing through.

"Just push through" became the theme of my life.

As new medications were added, so were new side effects. It became a never-ending cycle. While raising my daughter, Johnna, running my own nail salon, and eventually earning my college degree, I simply accepted that this was what life was going to be. I tried countless treatments, supplements, diets, and the newest "miracle" solutions that promised hope. Some helped a little. Most didn't help at all.

Looking back, I realize my story actually began much earlier.

It began with my mother.

As a child, I watched her struggle with many of the same symptoms I would later experience myself. Today, I still keep her handwritten notes in my Bible, and when I read them, it's as if I'm reading my own story. Our symptoms were almost identical.

We took my mom to doctor after doctor, specialist after specialist, hoping someone would finally have an answer. We watched her fight every single day just to feel normal.

There were seasons when she would come to my house during a flare, lie on my couch for days, and sink into a deep depression. I did everything I knew to do. I opened the curtains to let the sunshine in. I played our favorite Christian hymns and worship music. I tried to remind her that brighter days were ahead.

Nothing seemed to reach her.

Then one day, I walked into the bedroom where she was resting, and she quietly told me, "It's time."

I panicked.

I called my family, and together we surrounded her with love, got her out of bed, and slowly helped her find a little hope again.

Years later, I found myself standing in that very same place.

Not physically beside my mother — but emotionally, spiritually, and mentally.

I understood exactly how she had felt.

And that was the moment everything changed.

I made a decision:

I refused to spend the rest of my life merely surviving.

I began researching relentlessly, searching for answers that no one had ever given us. What I discovered completely changed the course of my life.

My only regret is that I didn't know these answers decades earlier.

I wish I could have shared them with my mama when her journey began.

For nearly 50 years she searched for answers. Doctors, specialists, hospitals, clinics, and countless appointments could never fully explain what she was experiencing until she was finally diagnosed with lupus at the age of 50. Just five years later, at only 55 years old, she went home to be with the Lord.

For years I asked God, "Why?"

Today, I finally understand.

My journey wasn't just about my own healing.

It was about walking beside my mother through hers, living through my own battle, and discovering the answers that neither of us had been given.

Those answers didn't simply improve my health.

They restored my life.

They gave me my energy back, my hope back, my purpose back, and ultimately, they brought me back to the person God created me to be.

Now my mission is simple.

To help others find hope sooner than I did, so they don't have to spend decades believing that merely surviving is the best life they can have.

Because healing isn't just about living longer.

It's about finally living again.

Looking back, I realize my journey didn't begin at age 30 when I started feeling like I had the flu.

It began much earlier.

It began in my twenties with four heartbreaking miscarriages. At the time, I didn't understand that my body was already crying out for help. I simply believed I was facing an unimaginable season of loss. I had no idea these experiences could have been early signs that something deeper was happening within my body.

I'm restored and I am so excited to share my story and how I reversed my diseases, inflammation and chronic daily pain!

For over two decades, chronic illness shaped my life quietly and completely. I learned to schedule around flares, apologize for cancellations, and grieve the person I thought I'd become. I wasn't dying — I was slowly disappearing.

When conventional care ran out of answers, I stopped waiting to be fixed. I started paying attention. I removed what wasn't serving me and made room for plants — real ones, whole ones, prepared with care. My body responded almost immediately.

This wasn't a healing without hard days. Prayer became the anchor. Every morning, before food, before movement — a few minutes of quiet asking for guidance. It didn't remove the mountains; it changed how I climbed them.

I'm not the same person I was at 25 or 35. I'm sturdier. My energy comes back. My mind is clear. And I want other women to know it's possible — that this life, this body, this hope can be rebuilt in seasons. That's what Surviving 2 Thriving is for.