“I grew up in Dalton, Georgia, but say I’m from Chattanooga because that’s where I lived my adult life and raised my children. I always wanted to live at the beach, so when I got the opportunity, we high-tailed it out of there.

The short version of a long story is that the first 50 years of my life, I experienced more trauma than most people go through. Girl, I’ve had them all. You name a big trauma, chances are it’s been part of my life.

My parents were childhood sweethearts, very involved in our local church. My father was a kind man, but he had a temper and didn’t treat us children the way we should’ve been treated. My middle brother was the black sheep of the family, addicted to alcohol and drugs by the time he was probably 10. In and out of jail. For whatever reason, he was my mother’s favorite.

When I was probably 7 or 8, my parents went out for the evening, and my brother was watching me. As soon as they left, he shoved me into the bottom of a sleeping bag, tied the top, threw me in a closet, and pushed furniture in front of the door. He left me there for what seemed like days. Of course, I wet myself. I was hysterical.

When my parents came home, he made up a story that I was refusing to go to bed, worked myself into hysterics, and peed on his sleeping bag. So I got punished. My dad came in—off came the belt. Not only had I spent all that time in a terrible situation, but my parents didn’t believe me. Then I got beat for it.

I will never forget that. Not only how my brother treated me, but also the betrayal from my parents.

Fast forward to when my brother tried to commit suicide, and my mom was sick with cancer. I was dating a fella who was a heavy drinker. When I tried to break things off, he said, ‘No, no, no, I’ll get sober for you.’ He was there through the whole brother situation and my mom’s death. We had a trauma bond, and I married him, knowing he was an alcoholic.

All I wanted was a family and children. When I found out I was pregnant, I told him he was gonna have to get better. He was in rehab the entire time I was pregnant. I did the pregnancy alone and had a beautiful baby girl. Soon, he was drinking again and doing dangerous things; we divorced before our daughter’s first birthday. I was awarded sole custody.

It was me and her against the world.

When she turned three, I decided I didn’t want to be alone and wanted help. I went on Match.com and met this guy. Charming. Checked all the boxes. Soon after we got married, I found out almost everything about him was false. There was physical abuse, emotional abuse, financial abuse, mental abuse—you name it. It was horrible. I only stayed because I had to, but I separated from him when my second daughter was six months old. Then our house burned down, and for a short time, we were back together.

Shortly after that, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My youngest daughter was about a year old. Because of my mom, they did the genetics test: I checked positive on every marker. They said they needed to take everything: bilateral mastectomy, lymph nodes, ovaries, uterus. All of it.

They also told me it couldn’t all be done in one surgery, but I had no choice. It was just me taking care of my girls, and I could only be out of work once. I was under the knife for 24 hours with six surgeons working on me.

When my husband heard about all the surgeries, he looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘You will be worthless without boobs.’ That stuff demolishes your self-esteem. I soon packed everything and left with the girls.

That was all in 2009. I was a banker, and my primary customers were spec home builders. My whole department got laid off after the housing crash. Not only had I spent every dime fighting cancer and getting a divorce, I also  lost my job and had nothing. Within 45 days, the eviction notice was posted on the door. Here I was with two little kids, no job, no money, fresh out of cancer, and still weak as hell. We packed our things in a pod and lived in my car.

A guy I knew from banking had a rental home that had been sitting empty for 6 months. He let us live there rent-free for 60 days.

I went from an $85,000-a-year salary to a $15,000-a-year plus commission. There were times when we had no power, no gas, no heat. No nothing. The girls called it frontier days. We would camp in the living room, build a fire outside, and boil water for baths. I tried to make it fun, so they thought it was an adventure.

I learned not to judge people. I remember picking up free food while driving a fifty-thousand-dollar car because that car was our home for a couple of days. I couldn’t let them take that car, and I had to have that free food.

All my life, every decision and responsibility has fallen on my shoulders. That’s exhausting. If it weren’t for my children, I would’ve given up a long time ago. I was all they had—that’s what kept me going.

In a crazy twist of fate—or karma—the summer before my oldest daughter went to college, her father won the lottery. The state wouldn’t give him any money until he paid me 18 years of past-due child support. He won a $150,000 scratch-off. The government gave me $125,000. When I got that money, I thought, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. How did this even happen?’

I paid off my daughter’s tuition, bought us both a car, and we moved to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. It was time to reinvent ourselves.

I got a job with the Chamber of Commerce there. When my boss announced he was leaving to be president of the Chamber in Gulf Shores, I told him, ‘When you get down there, if you have an opportunity for me, let me know.’ We moved down in October.

I love it here and have built such a close group of friends that I call them ‘framily.’ A sign on my wall says, ‘Friends who become family’ because it’s better than my own family.

I started with Lee Charities in December of 2024, and I’m transforming people’s lives every day. To lay my head down every night knowing I improved somebody’s life is pretty incredible.

I have walked their path and know what they are going through too well. My job is also what feeds my soul.

Our Sea Glass initiative is helping the homeless here. People like me: good people, bad circumstances. Not bad people. Almost 100% of them had something happen in their life. A sick child, loss of a job, loss of a spouse. The domino effect. Their car breaks down, they can’t get to work, they lose their job, and they lose their house. You can’t always bounce back from that without help.

I think God has me here because I get it.

My biggest fear is becoming a burden to my children. I have sacrificed everything to make sure they get a good education and live their fullest life. I don’t want them to have to take care of me.

I still struggle, and I’m still sad that I never got to have an actual marriage. I have so much love to give, and I have never truly known what it feels like to be loved unconditionally. So much of my life has been filled with manipulation disguised as love. But I still hold onto hope that one day I will experience love that is genuine, honest, and given freely.

I’m alone, but I’m not lonely. I have no less than two dozen people I could call right now and find somebody to have dinner with tonight if I wanted to. I wouldn’t trade the life and friends I have here for anything in the world.”

Penny