Growing up, I was surrounded by my entire family, grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, and even great-aunts. Although most of the time it was just me and my mom (my parents divorced when I was two), I was never really alone. My family built a village around me, pouring love and support into my life and helping my mom raise me.
Being an only child and the only grandchild on my mom’s side for 18 years meant I was doted on constantly. My family members weren’t just relatives; they were also my closest friends. My grandparents lived just two doors down from my great-grandmother and great-aunts, all nestled around the same cul-de-sac. That little neighborhood became the heart of my childhood.
It’s where I spent summer days running through the creek, picking flowers, painting, or hanging off the clothesline pretending it was a jungle gym. When neighborhood kids weren’t around to play, my family always stepped in. I never lacked company, laughter, or love.
My grandmother, MawMaw, especially shaped me. She had been a nurse, but after retirement she became a painter. She filled her art room with canvases and brushes, and before you even reached the doorway, the smell of turpentine prepared you for the creativity ahead. She passed her love of art to me, and I’ve since passed it on to my children. I still hang her paintings in my home and give them as gifts, carrying her legacy forward through her work and the creativity she instilled in us.
When I was in college, my aunt Judy, who has always been like a second mom, welcomed her first child, my cousin Ely. I loved him as if he were my own little brother. Two years later, his sister Nichole was born, and my heart expanded even more. Those two gave me a glimpse of what motherhood might feel like, and from then on, I knew I wanted a family of my own.
In graduate school, I met my first husband. We married soon after and moved to Birmingham, Alabama, where I began working at Samford University. Three years later, I became a mother to my first daughter, Gwendolyn. From the moment she was born, I was connected to her in a way I had never experienced. Caring for her came naturally, and I loved every moment. Returning to work when she was just seven weeks old was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, but like many working moms, I adapted.
Six months later, we moved back to Texas to be near my family. A year and a half after settling in, I started working at a local school district. Not long after, our second daughter, Graelyn, was born. Life was full and busy, but over time, distance and apathy crept into my marriage. After nine years together, we divorced. Gwen was five, and Graelyn was two.
Being a single mom was tough. I had chosen this path, but that didn’t make it easy. The hardest part was forgiving myself. I had promised I wouldn’t repeat my childhood growing up with divorced parents—yet I found myself in the same place. Eventually, I learned to release the guilt. With time, I began to see how God used my struggles to give me a unique perspective that now strengthens me as a mother and a wife.
For a while, I was convinced I would stay single. But God had other plans. A high school friend who was also going through a divorce re-entered my life. We talked, leaned on each other, and before long, we were more than friends. We had known each other since middle school, so there was no awkward “getting to know you” stage—everything just clicked.
Soon, we found out we were expecting a baby together. Both of us were 38, with two children each already. Life felt overwhelming, but we knew what to do: get married and join our families. In 2014, we said “I do,” and a year later, our son Beau was born. He became the glue that bonded all four of our older children together.
Blending a family hasn’t been without its challenges, but Jason and I knew from the start we had to stand united. We don’t divide the kids by “yours” and “mine.” We discipline them equally, set the same rules, and back each other up. Faith has also been central, we pray for our kids, for our marriage, and we trust God to guide us.
Now, eight years into our marriage, I can say it hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been worth it. Jason is my best friend, and together we’ve built a home filled with love, chaos, and laughter. With five kids, three dogs, and full-time jobs, life is busy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
We’re not perfect, and we don’t try to be. We fight, we disagree, but we always stand by each other. Our kids know they are loved, supported, and prayed for. Looking back, I’m so grateful for the family village that raised me. It prepared me to raise the family I have now. And though I didn’t see it then, I know God’s hand was guiding me every step of the way.
