Nicole B's "Breaking Free: My Journey from Childhood Trauma to Self-Love and Empowerment"

As a little girl, I always dreamed of doing big things. But as I grew up and faced trauma, heartbreak, and pain, those dreams shrank—just like I did. I made myself smaller, quieter, more invisible, just trying to blend in and keep the peace.

You might be wondering, Why did I make myself smaller? Why didn’t I want to make waves?

When I was 12, my parents separated and eventually divorced. I didn’t know how to process the uncertainty of it all, and with three younger siblings, I felt an overwhelming responsibility to take care of them. That was when I first experienced depression and became fully aware of my anxiety. My parents, emotionally immature and focused on their own needs, weren’t present for us in the way we needed. So, I did what any eldest daughter does—I stepped up. I cared for everyone, especially my 3-year-old sister, who to this day feels more like my child than my sibling. I thought that if I kept everything running smoothly, if I avoided conflict, things would be okay. But the weight of it all crushed me. The stress and anxiety built up until they boiled over as anger—anger at the world, at my family, at myself. I was trying to keep the peace, but inside, I was falling apart.

By the time I reached 27, anxiety was consuming me. I was angry all the time, and it all came to a head when my youngest sister confided in me about our mother’s husband. This man had always crossed boundaries—he was a predator who sexually harassed my sisters, me, and even our friends. But hearing that my baby sister was experiencing even worse shattered me. That was the moment everything changed.

I won’t get into all the details, but from that day forward, my sisters and I cut him off completely. He was no longer welcome in our lives. It was the first time I set a hard boundary and held it. It was necessary, but it was also devastating—especially when my mother chose him over us. She stayed with him. She even moved to another state to be with him. That decision told me everything I needed to know about where we ranked in her life, despite the abuse we endured.

That pain could have destroyed me, but instead, it forced me to heal. Therapy saved my life—not once, but twice. The first time, through individual and group therapy, I met incredible people with similar struggles. I learned that it was never my job to take care of everyone else's emotions. That parenting my own parents was not normal. That no one had truly been there for me when I needed them most. By 2018, I felt strong enough to step away from therapy, and for a while, I was okay.

Then, in 2022, my mental health hit rock bottom. I knew I needed help again, and this time, my healing went even deeper. I realized I was still shrinking myself—still making myself small to keep my mother comfortable. Still carrying the weight of expectations that weren’t mine to bear. It was time to let that go. I accepted that my mother would never be who I needed her to be. And I refused to keep sacrificing my mental health for someone who wouldn’t do the same for me.

At the same time, I was drowning in corporate burnout. I had always been a hard worker, but I started questioning why. Why was I pouring myself into a company that didn’t truly care about me? Why was I allowing leadership’s insecurities to dictate my self-worth? So, I stopped. I set boundaries. I reminded myself that their reactions weren’t a reflection of me. And I chose to prioritize me for the first time in my life.

At the start of 2024, I leaned into everything I had been craving. I created a vision board for the first time. I went to events that scared me. I did boudoir shoots and started embracing my body at every size. I opened up to my husband in ways I never had before. I took control of my physical health and had gastric bypass surgery—losing over 100 pounds and gaining so much more than weight loss. I met incredible new people, and most importantly, I reconnected with myself.

Now, I’m learning to say fuck it and do what makes me happy—regardless of what others think. Because this is my life, and I finally understand that I deserve to live it fully, unapologetically, and on my own terms.

XOXO,Nicole