I was introduced to the horrors of crack cocaine addiction by my abusive boyfriend in 2012. What followed over the next two and a half years was a chaotic rollercoaster of emotional and physical trauma that changed the lives of myself and my children forever. My abuser, whom I will only refer to as “Danger,” became the bringer of confusion, distress, and torture. Along with the bone-deep anguish and terror that came with his daily physical and sexual abuse, his lack of accountability and narcissistic mental Olympics threw me into a turbulent tornado of emotions. When faced with either suffering his uncontrollable anger or joining his criminal antics, I mistakenly chose the latter. I was already the single mother of a fifteen-year-old daughter when I first met Danger. To my dismay, I became pregnant while I was using, and gave birth to my son seven weeks early. Thankfully, I stopped smoking crack just long enough that my baby was born free of drugs in his system. Still, the guilt of remaining addicted during any part of my pregnancy—and perhaps contributing to his later autism diagnosis—has stuck with me to this day. Through my faith in God, Narcotics Anonymous, and intense professional therapy, I escaped Danger’s grip. My clean and sober date is August 20, 2014. I am now completely free of alcohol and recreational drugs, and have begun a deep journey of natural healing. With the support of my faith and community, I have come off more than ten pharmaceutical drugs that only masked my pain. I am a walking testimony of what God can do in a life surrendered to Him. I am breaking generational curses, conquering addiction, and turning my pain into purpose. Today, I have returned to college after a twenty-five-year pause—beginning my freshman year at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas at age forty-six. I am determined to become a licensed Art Therapist, using both my education and life experience to be a vessel of healing, especially for Black women and women of color who have suffered as I have. As a mixed-race woman (Black and Chinese), I know God has called me to mend and restore in non-traditional ways. I will use art therapy to create safe spaces for women to process trauma and reclaim their voices, using brush strokes, color, and clay. God did not bring me through the fire to hide my light under a bushel. I have transformed from victim to survivor, and now I intend to light the way for others—helping women who are lost in addiction and abuse to believe in their own restoration and healing.

The biggest influence in my life was my abuser—the father of my twelve-year-old son. His emotional, physical, and sexual abuse taught me how to survive, how to endure, and how to remain true to myself despite unimaginable circumstances. During that five-year relationship, I was introduced to crack cocaine. By God’s grace, I have been clean and sober since August 20, 2014. Art became one of the most powerful tools in my transformation from victim to survivor—and eventually, to creator. My ultimate goal is to become a fully licensed Art Therapist. In 2020, during the pandemic, I picked up a paintbrush for the first time. What started as a quiet act of self-care quickly became a spiritual breakthrough. I used painting to process sorrow, grief, and feelings of inadequacy. Each canvas gave me permission to release what words could not carry. Over time, I witnessed myself growing—creatively, emotionally, and spiritually—through every layer of pigment and movement of the brush. As I healed, I felt called to help others do the same. I began organizing small art-centered events in my community, painting alongside the elderly, children on the autism spectrum, and individuals who had experienced trauma, loss, or addiction. I realized that art offers a kind of language for people who feel silenced. I want to be a guide for those seeking healing in nontraditional ways and offer a place where people can rediscover their voice through creativity. After pausing my education for over 25 years, returning to school has been a deeply meaningful journey. It is motivated not only by my desire to heal, but also by a longing to leave a lasting legacy for my children. I am a proud mother of two: a 28-year-old daughter who is a gifted spoken word artist, and a 12-year-old son who is a brilliant, neurodivergent student thriving in STEM. Everything I do is for them. I want them to see what it means to rise after the fall, to pursue purpose with passion, and to never let pain define their potential. My heritage as a Black and Chinese woman adds a unique depth to my work. I draw inspiration from both cultures, often infusing ancestral symbolism, bold color, and sacred imagery into my art. My creative voice is deeply spiritual and emotionally raw. Each piece I create tells a story of resilience, of struggle, and of hope. I don’t paint just to be seen—I paint to help others feel and remember. What makes my artistic skill different is the truth behind it. My work is layered with lived experience. Every stroke holds meaning, every figure tells a story. Whether I’m expressing pain or joy, my art invites others to reflect, to feel deeply, and to believe that healing is possible. I plan to open a therapeutic art studio that serves underserved populations and those seeking emotional restoration. I envision a safe, welcoming space where people can come exactly as they are and create their way toward wholeness. Art saved my life. Now, I want to use it to help save others.

From the moment I picked up a paintbrush during the pandemic, after years of silence, I knew that healing couldn’t happen in isolation. For me, collaboration in the field of art therapy means creating spaces where souls can breathe together—where my story touches yours, and together we make something beautiful out of the broken. I am a mother, an artist, a former addict, and a student—rebuilding a life I once thought was lost. Today, I’m studying to become a licensed art therapist because I believe healing isn’t just something that happens to us—it’s something we create together. One of the most profound collaborative experiences I’ve had came from a community art project I led at my church. We invited people from all walks of life (teen moms, elders, ex-offenders, children on the spectrum) to paint their journey on canvas. As we painted side by side, we cried, laughed, and spoke truths we’d held in silence for years. There were no degrees or titles in that room. There was just humanity and healing. That experience showed me that therapy isn’t just about fixing; it’s about finding one another in the dark and lighting candles as we go. As a Black and Chinese woman navigating disability, motherhood, and the weight of generational trauma, collaboration in my intended field also means being seen. It means working with others who don't just treat symptoms, but who sit beside you and say, “Me too.” It means honoring cultural traditions, spiritual roots, and non-linear healing journeys. It means allowing others to leave fingerprints on the canvas of my calling. Last year, I collaborated with Ms. Angelique Daniels, the founder and curator of Angelique's Community Art Center in Las Vegas, NV, to host my first solo art exhibition. We featured over twenty of my best pieces and sold 75% of them, donating 100% of the entry fee to Angelique's Paint 4 Kidneys Non-Profit Organization. Even in my current studies, collaboration is the reason I’ve come this far. Professors who encourage, classmates who share resources, and mentors who believe in my future even when I’m struggling—each has poured into me. And in return, I bring my full, unpolished self: not just as a student, but as someone willing to be a mirror, a vessel, a guide. Collaboration in art therapy is sacred. It isn’t just about creating. It’s about co-creating. I’ve seen how a brushstroke, a shared story, or even just a nod of understanding can change someone’s life - especially mine.