Educated by the School of Hard Knocks

I had my first child at 17.

I was still a child myself — navigating life, identity, and uncertainty — while suddenly responsible for another human being. There was no guidebook, no safety net, no help. Just me. Alone. Trying to figure out how to raise a child while still growing up myself.

That was my crash course in resilience.

While some were learning life from textbooks, I was living the unfiltered version. I wasn’t taught — I survived. I didn’t study resilience — I became it.

From Welfare to a First Home

There were years where every dollar mattered. Welfare was a lifeline, not a choice. I hustled because I had to. I showed up for work, my child, my responsibilities — with nothing to fall back on but grit.

And despite every obstacle, every doubt cast in my direction, I rose. I worked, saved, sacrificed — and bought my first home. Me. The teenage mum people counted out. The woman who refused to stay small.

I've Been Knocked Down — And Got Back Up Every Time

Life hasn’t been linear. I’ve risen. I’ve fallen. I’ve gained. I’ve lost. I’ve built. I’ve rebuilt.

I’ve survived heartbreak, domestic violence, financial ruin. I’ve had to start over more times than I care to count. But every time, I’ve come back stronger. Wiser. Fiercer.

My strength isn’t found in a resume. It’s lived in the quiet moments of survival. In the late nights, in the early mornings, in the moments when quitting would’ve been easier — but I didn’t.

So, When Someone Says I’m Not Resilient Enough…

I smile. Because I know they’re not seeing the full picture.

They see a woman and measure her worth by what’s on paper. They forget to ask what she’s been through to stand in that room. They forget that resilience isn’t polished — it’s scarred, tested, and forged in fire.

I am the product of everything I’ve had to overcome. Educated by the School of Hard Knocks. And I wear that degree with pride.

To Every Woman Who’s Ever Been Underestimated:

You are not behind. You are not broken. You are not defined by anyone else’s perception of your strength.

You’ve survived what many couldn’t even comprehend. You’ve built a life — not in ideal conditions, but against all odds.

That is power. That is resilience. That is leadership.

So, wear your scars proudly. You didn’t just survive — you thrived.

With love,

Mumma

DISCLAIMER

I am not a licensed therapist, psychologist, or mental health professional. The information shared in this blog is based on personal experience, research, and general knowledge, and is intended for informational and supportive purposes only.

It should not be taken as professional advice, diagnosis, or treatment.