"compassion is knowing your darkness well enough that you can sit in the darkness with others" - pema chodron

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my story comes in the form of highs and lows, complete darkness and the brightest light, utter abandonment and complete connection. and of course everything in between. I believe that sharing my story and living my life out loud is my purpose. 

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I grew up a very lucky girl on the island of Kaua'i with my 3 siblings and mother and father. I was a part of a small, close knight religious organization called Jehovah's Witnesses. My mother and father both parented me the best they could but they came from a place of their own wounds and ancestral trauma. The religious community felt hypocritical to me from an early age - claiming that they are a religion of love and peace yet their love was conditional and tough. 

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I was baptized at 14, making a lifelong commitment to the religion. The consequences of that decision were incomprehensible for my child mind, for if I ever changed my mind and left, I would be shunned from my community. 

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Not knowing how to reconcile this, I started to quickly lead a double life of partying, drug use, irresponsible sexual behavior and disassociation. For two years I was two people: a good Christian girl, going door to door preaching about the end of times; and a constantly hungover, lying teen who stole and cheated her way through high school. Within two years of this lifestyle, my body and soul broke down. I became bedridden with respiratory and digestive issues, with the inability to eat for a month. My parents only agreed to nurse to health if I agreed to repent and return to God.

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However, once I was better, I ran all the way to California. I was taken in by non-religious grandparents. I continued my disassociation lifestyle for another year before finally giving it up and going back to being a Jehovah's Witness. From age 18-21, I studied the Bible, immersing myself in the JW interpretations, trying to believe, trying to find the truth. But I knew it was not for me. At 21, I made a conscious decision to again leave the religion. I left behind a lifetime of friends, mentors, and of course, my family. 

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I write this on my 10 year anniversary of making that decision. When I walked out of that church in 2013, on a crisp night with ocean salt in the air, I cried with sadness of ending one life but joy for the life I could now create. I remember thinking that in many years from now, I will remember this moment and be proud of the decision I made to be free, to be fully me, and to trust that I will always be okay.