My name is Dawnell, and I’m a single mother doing everything I can to rewrite the story I was born into. I have three beautiful children—ages 12, 9, and 5—who are my whole world. Every day, I fight to give them the stability and love I never had.
When I was just three years old, my mother was killed in a car accident. My father, an alcoholic, was never able to be present in my life, so I was raised by my grandparents. I grew up searching for love in all the wrong places, hoping to fill a void that loss and abandonment left behind. That search led me down dark paths—abusive relationships, addiction, and years of feeling like I wasn’t enough.
But seven years ago, I chose a different road. I got sober. I walked away from the chaos. And I started to rebuild.
Most recently, I escaped an abusive relationship. It was terrifying. I left with nothing but my kids and my courage. I worked hard, saved every penny, and finally bought our very first home in a small town—somewhere I hoped would be a safe and wholesome place to raise my children. I wanted to give them everything I didn’t have: roots, warmth, security.
But just one day after I closed on our home, my older sister—my best friend, my rock—was hit head-on by a wrong-way driver and killed. The grief shattered me. She was the only family I had left. The emotional toll, paired with the financial burden of unexpected expenses, sent me spiraling. I’ve since been diagnosed with PTSD from the trauma of her loss.
Now, I am drowning in debt I can’t climb out of. I’m behind on everything—utilities, mortgage, basic needs. Foreclosure notices have started to arrive. I feel like I’m watching everything I’ve worked for slowly slip away, and I’m terrified. Not for myself—but for my children.
I don’t want pity. I’m not asking for handouts out of laziness or irresponsibility. I am asking for help because I’m a mother who refuses to give up. Because I’ve fought for every inch of progress I’ve made. Because I dream of being a voice for other women and young girls who have endured trauma and abuse—proof that pain doesn’t have to be permanent.
I want to be a cycle breaker. A supermom. A safe place. An example of what’s possible when you don’t give up—even when the world tells you to.
Please, if you feel moved by my story, consider helping me get back on my feet. Any support you can offer will go toward catching up on essential bills, keeping our home, and giving my kids the future they deserve.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
— Dawnell 💛