7/11 Now Belongs To Me! Meet Candie <3

I Planted a Tree Today

Some anniversaries deserve to be rewritten. Today, the anniversary of the day my mother married a monster, I rewrote one of mine.

I planted a tree today and named her Candie.

You see when I was a little girl—quickly becoming a young woman without the guidance of an absent, neglectful mother while trying to survive the monster she married—I had very few places where I felt truly safe. Even now, so many years later, he still lives in the corners of my mind.

But every once in a while, I found a refuge.

One of those places was Miss Candie’s house, where I spent many summer days swimming in the backyard pool and picking fresh fruit from the trees that filled her little slice of heaven. It was there that I learned, not through lectures, but simply by watching the way she lived, about honesty, compassion, understanding, self-worth, dignity, and love. Those weren’t lessons she tried to teach—they were simply who she was.

Her home was one of the safest, warmest, and most loving places I’ve ever known. It holds some of the happiest memories of my childhood. More importantly, she believed me when I needed someone to. I have never forgotten that.

I promised myself that if I was ever fortunate enough to have a forever home of my own, I would plant fruit trees—to create a place that was just as giving, welcoming, and full of love as hers had been.

Today, I took the first step toward taking my life back.

On the anniversary of the day that began eleven years of hell, I planted my very first fruit tree. Instead of letting this day belong to my past, I gave it something new. Something living. Something beautiful.

And it feels so very good.

Thank you, Miss Candie, for the lasting impact you’ve had on my life. Thank you for believing me, for nurturing me, for my very first string bikini, and for always being a place of safety and love during one of the darkest times of my life.

I know this peach tree will flourish because it was planted with love, hope, and intention.

Just like the little girl you helped nurture all those years ago.

May everyone who finds refuge in my home someday feel the same love and safety that I found in yours.