Hello to all, please take a moment today and be kind to yourself and enjoy the present moments we have with our loved ones. Thank you for being here today.
Since 2016, it has just been the three of us. I walked away from a broken situation with two little boys, two dogs, and absolutely nothing else—no savings, no safety net, zero dollars. But I had my determination. I put myself through cosmetology school, built a thriving career behind the chair, and worked every single hour I could. By 2020, I did the impossible: I bought us a home. A real, beautiful house for my boys. We moved in two weeks before the world shut down.
That victory was stolen almost instantly. The pandemic locked me out of work, and suddenly I was drowning, trying to figure out how to pay a brand-new mortgage with zero income. It was terrifying and deeply embarrassing, but I survived on ramen and sheer willpower until I clawed my way caught up.
I thought the worst was behind us. Then, I broke my shoulder rollerblading and quickly learned I wasn’t 25 anymore.
As a hairdresser, my body is my livelihood. I couldn’t work for months. Short-term disability was a cruel joke compared to my bills, and the surgery alone—because I had to pay out of pocket for a top-tier specialist just to save my career—cost me over $15,000. I had to take out a personal loan.
While I was physically broken and unable to work, I fell behind on my mortgage. And that is when the trap closed.
Facing foreclosure, I trusted the system to help me. Instead, they buried me. They refinanced my loan at a punishing 8.5% interest rate, rolling the $20,000 I owed plus another $20,000 in closing costs right back into the balance. Everything I had already paid off was handed right back to them, with nearly double the interest.
My mortgage skyrocketed from $2100 to $3300 a month.
Working on commission means my income fluctuates wildly, especially during the slow summer months. I scratch and claw to pay it every month, but the late fees are now bleeding me dry. They are added constantly, keeping me in a permanent state of panic, exhaustion, and chronic stress, while other basic bills pile up unpaid. I am running myself into the ground, working as hard as humanly possible, but the math is rigged against me. Every payment goes to interest and abusive fees—none of it touches the principal. I am watching the equity and the future I worked so hard to build for my kids slip through my fingers.
I had no guide, no financial advisor, and no family to teach me how to navigate this. I was desperate just to keep a roof over my children’s heads, and the bank took brutal advantage of that desperation.
I am not asking for a handout; I am asking for a lifeline. I am willing to do whatever work it takes—I just need a strategy to win, and I need a chance to get ahead of this suffocating cycle before we lose the only secure home my boys have ever known.
If anyone can offer advice, a strategy to restructure this, or financial support to help us catch up and make a real dent in this principal, it would genuinely be a miracle. Even a little breathing room to stop the bleeding from these late fees would change our lives. Love and light to you and yours.
Thank you for reading my story, for holding space for my vulnerability, and for any guidance or support you can offer. I will be grateful for the rest of my days.