Why do you identify with the Beautiful Disaster brand?
It came to me right after I’d come out of a dark place. I remember seeing it in a suggestion on Facebook, and as soon as I read the words, I had to get everything—clothes, towels, accessories. It felt like someone had reached into my soul and named me. That’s what I’ve always been—a ball of beautiful f**king disasters. From low self-esteem to finding myself, it always comes back to that.
Tell us your Beautiful Disaster story:
They say I’ve lived the life of a 90-year-old and back again—and I’m only 46.
I was born on Easter, unplanned and unwanted. My childhood was chaos: an alcoholic mom, countless stepdads, constant moving, and no stability. I was molested by family, raped at 15 walking down the road, and abused mentally, physically, and sexually in nearly every relationship I’ve had. I thought that was just how life worked.
Despite all of that, I was blessed with three beautiful children. But one of the worst moments in my life came when they were taken from me after witnessing abuse. They were just 5, 7, and 12—and losing them shattered me. I didn’t understand mental health. I spiraled into addiction, trying to die. I didn’t know how to be anything else but a mom.
I did things I regret. I went in and out of jail and rehab. Still, my oldest stayed in my life. We searched for her siblings constantly. She eventually got adopted by my mother and lived a life I never had.
My own life remained a storm—homelessness, failed relationships, loneliness, repeated heartbreak. I attempted suicide five times. My daughter attempted three. We were survivors—but barely.
I have COPD and other health issues. I’d get clean, get sick, relapse. I finally went back to inpatient rehab and stayed clean for 9 years—until I lost my grandma. I relapsed. Then came heartbreak, betrayal, a house raid... and that was my wake-up call. I quit cold turkey. No looking back.
My daughter moved in with me. She struggled with alcohol and mental health. I didn’t realize how sick she was. One day, I called the ambulance. She had liver failure. I begged the doctors not to give up on her—she was a fighter.
For the first time in 22 years, all three of my kids and I were together again—at her hospital bed.
Then I lost her.
She died on March 23, 2023.
My best friend. My daughter. My reason for surviving.
I screamed out loud, Why?!
That loss—there are no words. But after three months, I checked myself back into rehab. I got sober again. July 12, 2023 is my sobriety date.
It’s been the hardest chapter of my life, but I’m still here. Still trying. Still loving her “all the way to the sky.”
What happened for you to turn it around?
Losing my daughter broke me open. She was my heart. My mirror. My purpose. But now, I live to make her proud. I got a tattoo that says “All the way to the sky,” something we said to each other every night before bed.
She gave me the strength I couldn’t find on my own. And that strength is what keeps me going now.
Name 3 things you’ve done to move closer to happiness:
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I visit my daughter’s grave every week—to talk, cry, decorate, and keep her spirit alive.
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I’m working—every single day—to get my mental and physical health to a better place.
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I am determined to become a reason someone else doesn’t give up.
What is your favorite Beautiful Disaster collection, past or present, and why?
Honestly, they’re all my favorite. But the one that hits the deepest is Stars Can’t Shine Without Darkness. It captures what I feel every time I look up and whisper, “All the way to the sky.”