​There is a specific kind of exhaustion that comes with being “unclean.” It isn’t just about the dirt or the sweat; it’s about the heavy, soul-deep degradation of being denied the basic tools of humanity.

​For many, a hot shower or a box of period supplies is a given. For me, during the years I spent living on the streets, those were luxuries I never had. People look at me now and see the founder of the Blue Bag Foundation, but the truth is, I am still that girl. And every day, I have to be the mother that child never had.

​Survival is Not Pretty

​People like to romanticize “resilience,” but there is nothing romantic about having the flu with nowhere to lay your head but the pavement. There is no comfort in navigating a period when you have no pads, having to wrap toilet paper into a bundle and shove it into your private area just so you won’t bleed everywhere.

​I remember the literal weight of washing my panties in a sink and wearing them semi-wet because I had no choice. I lived with the fear that the very things meant to help me could kill me. Leaving a tampon in for days because it was all I had, knowing it could cause an infection that would end my life. To this day, I won’t touch one.

​Sleeping with the Rejected

​It’s crazy thinking back, but I was using the same bathrooms the junkies were using to get high in. Because I was there, I would get kicked out right along with them. I was just a child, but I was forced into sleeping with the broken, the dirty, the rejected, and the unwanted. I was treated like the world’s “trash” before I even had a chance to grow up.

​Reclaiming the Narrative

​Some people still don’t see me. Some still think I “stink” or refuse to believe in me because of where I came from. But the “tea” on survival is this: The dirt never reached my soul. The world might have despised my “small beginning,” but Zechariah 4:10 tells us, “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.” My beginning was in the gutter, but that is where my strength was forged. I am the mother that child needed, and through the Blue Bag Foundation, I am providing the dignity I was once denied.

​Final Sip

​I share these memories not for pity, but to shed light on a reality I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Psalm 34:18 reminds us that “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” My spirit was crushed, but I was preserved for this purpose.

​To anyone who feels “less than” because of their past: your dignity is not found in a mirror. It is found in the fact that you are a child of the Most High. 2 Corinthians 12:9 says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” I was at my weakest, and His power is the only reason I am standing here today.