How it Became My Calling to be a Life Coach
1989—–Born 8 weeks early. My mother and I both almost passed away during my premature birth, but we pulled through! While doing her C-section, they also discovered that I had been a twin, but my twin passed early on in her pregnancy.
1994—–Entered kindergarten. My mom stayed home with my older sister and me, so this was my first time in a larger setting with my peers. The first time, my appearance was made fun of.
1995—–Regular bullying began. Because I was born early, my ears stuck out, and I was regularly called a monkey, dumbo, and ugly by my classmates. I even got it from older kids on the bus. This was also the year we discovered I had a learning disability.
1996- I was a Jesus-loving little girl. I grew up Catholic, and while we didn’t always go to church, it was part of my life. I naturally had a connection to God and was so excited for my first communion. Back then, we went to a room where we faced each other. My dad worked seven days a week, and my mom stayed home with us, so we didn’t attend church every Sunday. The priest told me God makes time for me daily and questioned my priorities since I couldn’t make time for him once a week. He gave me a million penance (prayers to be forgiven) and told me I would go to hell if I didn’t start loving the lord the right way. I was crushed and cried my eyes out. This was when I turned my back on my faith.
1997—–3rd grade was the worst. I had a boy in my class who tormented me every day. He’d stab me in the leg with pencils, attack me once school was out if I couldn’t run to my bus fast enough, and he’d often make fun of and threaten me. Eventually, he broke my arm in gym class, and then his parents moved him to a different school due to fear of legal consequences. This is when I recalled the first time crying into my pillow to sleep, asking God to please take me out of this world and wishing I never survived my birth.
1998—–I was placed in speech and S.P.E.D courses within the school for my learning disability. I did not retain what I would read and struggled with understanding. I’d be taken out of class weekly to work with the special education teachers and given special tests that narrowed answers for me. In addition to my appearance being made fun of, I was also called retarded and stupid.
2001—–I joined track in 7th grade and quickly learned I didn’t know how to run long distances correctly due to my early birth. My hips often experienced pains that caused me to gallop more than run. I joined the discus team instead, and through practice, I slowly overcame the galloping and learned to run correctly. This was also the year I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s disease. I gained some weight, my hair was falling out, and I struggled with fatigue and skin issues. I was urged to get on thyroid medication for the rest of my life. My mother refused, and we went a holistic route instead.
2002—–The holistic practices got my thyroid levels back in range after around a year of naturally treating my disease. To this day, doctors say it is impossible and still act surprised when my records indicate a thyroid disease, only to see all my blood work come back flawless. In the Summer of 8th grade, I underwent plastic surgery to get my ears pinned back so I could go into high school without the constant bullying I had endured for so many years.
2003—–I spent my entire summer recovering from surgery and entered Freshman year feeling more confident than ever. I remember my aunt submitting pictures of me to a child modeling agency. (Nothing ever came from that entry, but it also boosted my confidence.) I met my first boyfriend in Spanish class, and in the Fall of 2003, I was invited to my first “cool kids” party after the Homecoming football game. There, I had my first taste of alcohol and got drunk for the first time. I had so much “trauma” and zero self-worth due to the past that I enjoyed the freedom alcohol provided me with, not to care what other people thought of me. I saw it as magical and amazing!
2005—–I got my first job the day I turned 16 at a hospital as an SPD Supply Tech. I delivered supplies to the doctors on the floor and restocked linens and supplies in patients’ rooms. I worked weekend shifts in the back warehouse by myself. One day the house supervisor of the hospital was doing rounds and talked to me about a porn documentary he had watched the night before about Jenna Jameson. He then said he wanted to show me some supplies I might not be familiar with. It was down the labor and delivery aisle, and while I was very uncomfortable, I thought maybe he would show me something that would help me at my job. He then began to instruct how a woman’s downstairs is cleaned after she gives birth and if she needs stitches how that process is done. I reported it, cops came and had to talk to me with my mom present due to being a minor (the supervisor was in his upper 40s), and he lost his job as well as his license. I was also sexually harassed at that same hospital in the elevator by the janitor who told me he would leave his wife if he could ever have gotten a chance to be with me. He was also fired.
2006—–I became somewhat “cool” at the end of my junior year and even got in the top 10 for homecoming queen. I continued drinking and partying when I could get away with it, but at the end of the day, none of the cool kids liked me. One of the girls spread a rumor that I had herpes because she didn’t want me weaseling my way into their crowd. I met up with older guys I had met online and began to enjoy all the positive male attention I’d get for becoming “hot” and desired. I began dressing promiscuously to gain that attention further. However, my virginity had always been something I cherished, but other forms of sexual acts began to be explored more often at this point. I thought if it wasn’t intercourse, it didn’t count as giving a piece of myself to those who didn’t deserve it. I began drinking the more I did these things because, deep down, it made me feel used and dirty because now, I was only ever liked for my once unacceptable appearance. So, I took the “acceptance” over rejection.
I snuck to my first college party, which consisted of 19-20-year-old boys. They learned of me and my friend’s virginity because we were so proud of still having it at 16 that we openly boasted about it. I was letting them make my drinks for me. Before I knew it, I was out of it and hooking up with one of the boys. I remember not having clothes on and laying on a mattress in a dark room. I began saying, “No. Stop,” but this boy wasn’t listening and was trying to have sex with me. Somehow, it clicked what was happening after I kept pushing him away from between my legs, and I started crying and ran out of the front door of the apartment. Some of the guys followed and asked what happened. I explained what went on, and the boy who had tried to rape me jumped out the window of the apartment and ran off, knowing what he did was wrong. I never reported it or anything. I felt just as at fault for it happening.
2007—–I entered a modeling agency where I took weekly classes in runway, acting, and makeup. I graduated modeling and was cast as a playmate in a fashion show. My parents were told, “It’s ok; she won’t be naked or anything because she’s a minor.” My coach took me aside and said I was a little “thick” and that I had around one week to drop 10 lbs for the leotard I was going to be in. This sparked the habit of not eating to look “better” than I did naturally. It was held at a local club, and my butt was grabbed by a man well over 21 as I climbed a ladder to model on a platform they had set up. Instead of realizing I was being made a sex symbol as a minor, it made me think, “I guess not eating worked! I’m sexy, even to grown men!”
2007 Continued—–I graduated high school and entered the University of Omaha, Nebraska, to become a nurse. I moved into an apartment with my sister at 18, right down the road from campus. I went to class but failed in most areas due to lacking motivation, partying, and being more concerned with the social scene than creating my future.
2008—–I put on weight due to eating fast food constantly, drinking lots of alcohol, and just having a terrible lifestyle. I lost my virginity to my boyfriend at 19 and began to feel fat due to my poor choices. My guy friends would call me “thunder thighs” in jest, and I didn’t want my boyfriend to lose interest, so I began being bulimic because I enjoyed eating, but not the results from that eating. I remember my boyfriend pointing to a picture of me when I was thinner upon meeting him, and he said, “You don’t look like this anymore. Stop eating so much Taco Bell!” So, I’d go through a cycle of not eating anything for a day, drinking my calories in alcohol, then starving, bingeing on fast food, and ultimately making myself puke it all up so I didn’t keep gaining weight. This was a regular cycle for a while.
2008 continued—–I dropped out of UNO and entered hair school. I excelled for the first time in a school setting. I even got scholarship money for doing well on a pretest I took to enter hair school. My teachers sometimes brought me in to help instruct the younger class. I was sitting at the top of my class. This was hands-on learning and something that came naturally to me. However, I continued with my poor lifestyle. I dabbled with the use of Adderall to keep me awake all night at parties, got a MIP and had to take diversion class, and began carving in my arm when I’d be super drunk due to being unable to cope with the emotional pain I felt about myself after my years of poor choices. Physical pain was much more tolerable than the emotional pain I had inside me. This was also when suicidal thoughts plagued me regularly.
2009—– I graduated from hair school and began my big girl job at a day spa. I was in a relationship, which I always seemed to jump right into, and I was still partying, of course. I lived for the weekends and often would stay awake all night at a party, only to sleep for an hour and be the first awake at 8 a.m., ready to shotgun a beer and keep the party going. There are days I have no recollection of. Many times, I’d have my guy friends call my work after an all-night bender and call me in sick while we were still drinking from the evening before.
2010—–I turned 21! On my 21st birthday, I face-planted outside the bar on concrete in front of two officers. I regularly became the girl falling all over the dance floors at bars or unable to sit in a chair without falling out of it. I was kicked out of many places for being overly intoxicated. I have had alcohol poisoning at least twice, where I struggled to breathe, remain awake, or make sense of anything. I’ve gotten in bar fights, shattered beer glasses, side-swiped a Burger King drive-thru, and gone home with random people at bars because they claimed there were after-parties- only to realize there weren’t. I’d be running down the road at 3 am barefoot and crying, calling my dad from a gas station phone, not knowing where I was. I hitchhiked at 2 am with a very odd and questionable man with a tomahawk on his front dash (which I didn’t realize until later). I’ve driven down the wrong way off-ramp to the interstate and had people flying off the sides to avoid me before I finally turned around. I went home with an older couple because they promised me more alcohol, only to realize they had none when I got to their house, and the husband was verbally and somewhat physically abusive to the wife. I remember trying to attack him when he was coming down on her physical appearance, and I walked home with bruises from my wrists to my elbows from him restraining my arms. I had a hit-and-run charge at one point where I had a warrant out for my arrest. I knew I hit my friend’s car, so I drove off, but a bystander called in my plates. The charge was dropped, but the “friend” cleaned out my bank account to fix her car. Again. There are some days I don’t remember.
2011—–I was passed out at a party which was held at my family’s house. A high school friend of my sisters who was at the party came into the bedroom I was in while I was passed out, and I woke up to him performing a sexual act on me. This happened several times over a few years. He had remained friends with my family because they had no idea what was happening then. He was also married. I never told anyone because, again, I wasn’t kicking and screaming to get him off me, but I also never consented to him doing it because I would be passed out from overconsuming. I didn’t want to be the reason his marriage failed, and I felt extreme guilt for allowing it to happen in the first place. I never returned the activity, nor did I do much of anything. I just laid there, in and out of consciousness, until he’d finish and leave the room. He never engaged in intercourse with me. He’d just violated me in other awful ways. This further made me feel used and discarded, and my self-esteem declined rapidly.
2012-2013—– I continued down the same path despite all I had experienced this far in life. Every week, I hated myself more. Every month, I’d lose more self-esteem. But the face I constantly put on for my friends was the fun, wild, happy Amanda. I was “the life of the party” and often the spectacle being made fun of for how drunk I’d get. But people embraced and accepted me; that was all I cared about. While my faith was still minimal, I regularly asked God why he was doing this to me. I often begged him to take me out of this world.
2013 continued—– I had my “wake-up call” and hit rock bottom. I was casually “talking” to a man who I knew was addicted to opiates, and later found out he was a heroin addict. (I found needles and drugs in his car.) We had gotten into a fight when we were both highly intoxicated. My ex-boyfriend, who I hadn’t spoken to in months, picked me up. I don’t remember ANYTHING. I woke up in a bed I didn’t recognize, naked, with black liquid surrounding my head. My ex-boyfriend was next to me. I guess I vomited Jager in my sleep. I have no recollection of having sex or if protection was used. I remember looking at myself in the mirror and being disgusted with what I saw looking back at me. I told the guy I was talking to within hours of what happened. He forgave me but said I had to go sober for at least a year if he was going to stay with me. I agreed, and shortly after, I found out about his severe drug problem. We went our separate ways, but I wanted to complete my year of sobriety.
2014—– At this point, I was single for the longest stretch of my life. I lived in a beautiful apartment, had a dog, and worked as a successful booth renter at a salon and spa. Four months into sobriety, I met my ex-husband. He was stable, handsome, and had his life together. He was the first guy with a truck, a career, a head on his shoulders, goals, and a self-sufficient life. We quickly fell in love and became an item.
2015—– I hit my year of sobriety without rehab or outside help of any kind, and I thought I could slowly reintroduce booze back into my life now that I was with a good man.
2016—– He proposed to me on a beach in Mexico. It was perfect. However, my wild side began coming out with drinking. It wasn’t as bad as it once was, but when she did come out, I did some things that he had never seen when I was sober. Things I regret ever having put him through.
2017—- I had the wedding of my dreams. It was beautiful and exactly what I had always dreamed of. We had had some big problems before marriage, but we went forward with it anyway and ended our wedding night crying together on the way home, “WE DID IT! WE’RE MARRIED!” A few days later, we went on our nine-day honeymoon in St. Lucia. It was one of the most amazing trips I have ever been on. We hiked to the Piton Mountains, sailed alone, kayaked the Caribbean Sea, went on a sunset cruise, and snorkeled the reefs. However, all-inclusive alcohol was at my fingertips, and many arguments occurred between us. By the time we got home, it almost felt like we both believed we may have made a mistake in getting married in the first place.
2018——8 months after getting married, I was drinking maybe four times a month with my husband, and every time, a huge fight would blow out due to me not wanting to leave the bar or due to me drinking too much. Intimacy ceased, and I felt unwanted again in my life. By the 8th month mark, I realized if I was going to save my marriage, I needed to go sober for two years this time. Within four months of that decision, I got pregnant with my daughter, Pennie.
2019—– Early on in my pregnancy, some things were discovered that would have ultimately caused us to divorce (no, it wasn’t infidelity), but as a mom-to-be and someone who was not financially stable herself, we pushed past it. Even though I was sober, pregnant, and trying to better myself, I think a wound in our marriage had already been created and was unable to be healed. I felt lonely during my pregnancy and like there was a disconnect between him and me. We were both very excited to become parents, but the love seemed to dwindle. We both had done some things in our marriage that caused the other to resent each other, and there was just no fixing it, even after trying couple’s therapy. Pennie was born all-natural on May 18, 2019. I think I refused any pain meds to prove to myself that my body could withstand the pain (even with being induced, which made it MORE excruciating!) after all the pain I had constantly tried to numb. And I did it after so many people said I couldn’t! A healthy baby girl and the best day of our lives!
End of 2019—–I felt like I was drowning. I was trying to figure out how to be a mother and go back to work, not to mention I had taken my newborn (5 weeks old) on a two-week road trip, which my husband decided not to come on at the last minute. This further filled the void between us. I felt like I was taking on more of the work with my baby, and the resentment in our marriage just continued to grow. A friend I had known for years before reached out to me via messenger, providing me with encouraging words when it came to being a new mom, and it felt nice to be noticed. He was in an unhappy marriage as well and was a seasoned parent of two. We began chatting via messenger more often than we probably should. By December 2019, I filed for divorce, and ironically, his wife served him with divorce papers at the same time, knowing he was chatting with someone else.
2020—– He was “my person,” it seemed. We met for the first time after divorces were filed. Sparks flew! And while we went about our union in a completely unethical way, we felt like we finally found someone who mirrored who we were as people. We had the same interests, goals, and outlook on parenting and enjoyed loving each other in the way we felt we needed to be loved. He also helped me reignite my faith in God. He explained the bible to me and opened my eyes to God’s love and forgiveness for us all. I fully reembraced my faith in the lord when I met him, and I’ll forever be grateful for that.
Ironically, MY ex-husband began dating his ex-wife! Crazy, huh? I was almost two years sober at this point and decided, yet again, to invite alcohol back into my life.
2021—–Fights grew to some pretty intense heights; some would even call them toxic, but our shared connection made us turn a blind eye to all of it. We decided to start fitness coaching, had an apartment together, and were merging our children wonderfully (He had two kids from his previous marriage, and I had my own). We moved from our small 2-bedroom apartment into a townhome that comfortably fit all of us. By the end of the year, I ended up in the hospital with a hemorrhagic ovarian cyst rupture. This is where a cyst bursts and continues to bleed into your stomach cavity. I refused to go to the doctor, regardless of the pain I was in, until I began passing out and losing consciousness. He saved my life by bringing me in. I was rushed to emergency surgery, where I underwent a blood transfusion due to losing half of my body’s blood supply. They saved my ovary, and I miraculously went home the next day. Nine days later, I was hiking the Badlands with my partner, who saved my life, and he proposed to me from a beautiful vantage point overlooking the Badlands.
2022—–We had to reschedule our wedding twice due to conflicts and things not going as planned. Things quickly went south, and God forced us to break each other’s hearts so we could independently grow in the areas we both needed to. Stress happened. Life happened. Before we knew it, our family of five was separated, and both of us lost the beautiful family we once cherished. Our kids lost siblings they once adored. Heartbreaking is an understatement. He moved out quite unexpectedly, and I was left fighting to provide for me and my daughter independently while he was left trying to rebuild his life living with his sister. Little did we realize this provided us with some intense growing pains for which we would later be thankful.
2023-2024—–These were the years of destroying decades of dependency on a partner. It was a year I stepped into providing for myself and my daughter emotionally, financially, and physically. During this massive healing stage, my limits were tested by my daughter, unfortunately being molested twice by two completely unrelated older children—one on my side and one on her dad’s side. Dealing with CPS and my baby’s well-being afterward was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to endure. Your child being violated and molested is every parent’s nightmare, but for it to happen twice, within opposite families and five months apart, is almost unheard of. Then, our new kitten, I got to bring some positivity to our lives, died unexpectedly three weeks after we rescued her at six months old, which piled on even more heartache and financial struggle.
There were so many weeks I didn’t think I could make it, but by the grace of God, I survived, and most importantly, I grew in the areas I’ve been so resistant to, and I did it SOBER! And my baby girl? She is 100% thriving and has become more resilient than ever.
I’ve had a lot of internal traumas I have had to heal from in my past, as well as hold myself accountable for. In doing so, I also learned to forgive myself for never loving “me” enough and making many wrong choices. God is my light, and Jesus is my savior. I do not attend church as my faith is more of a personal relationship. I read the bible weekly and see my daughter having the same natural connection I did with God/Jesus at her age. I have also been able to forgive all who have hurt me/my daughter throughout our lifetime, which has set me free more than I realized. I’ve remained sober through this treacherous roller coaster of events, which is such a blessing. I’ve never felt so much emotional pain in my entire life. But you know what? As I sit here before you today, I realize it all HAD to happen this way to succeed in becoming the best version of myself. Everything happens for a reason, and I am grateful for everything. Now, I dream of giving us the life I know we deserve. A quiet home with 20 acres, a vast garden, and animals that remind us how beautiful life is. I won’t stop working till I get there!