I spent my childhood in a broken family where poverty wasn’t the hardest part — disconnection was.
As the youngest of four, with three older sisters and a voice that rarely carried, I learned early what happens when people stop hearing each other.
I watched a marriage unravel under unspoken pain, conversations that arrived too late.
But there was another side to it.
With a child’s instinct — simple, unfiltered, not strategic — I offered something small.
Just recognition of their marriage.
The reason why they fell in love in the first place.
And they listened.
Something shifted.
For the first time, I felt what alignment actually feels like — that quiet relief when people finally understand their own, and each other’s identity. That moment became my belief.