Share Your Strength Project

Every struggling kid/teen/adult needs to read this story and share it! Inspiration!!!

Surviving The Streets | Lindsay

I don't have a drug problem or mental illness and I've never gambled. I believe that the word "homeless" can be understood in many different ways. The first, and the most obvious, is "the lack of a house". The second, in my case, is "the lack of a home in a house". I believe I was homeless long before I was on the streets.

I was born on July 30, 1990 in Newark, DE and grew up in Wilmington. My dad was a business owner and my mom is a pharmacist. Due to their work schedules, I rarely saw them when I was growing up. It was up to my older brother and I to find a ride to and from school. I had the drive to learn, so I never played hooky. My brother was another story. By the time I was in first grade, I was dressing myself and packing our lunches for school. I didn't think that the way I was living was abnormal because it was all that I knew.

One spring night when I was 13, I found myself in a bad situation. I couldn't find a ride home, my parents were forwarding my calls, and I was with a bad crowd that wouldn't let me leave. They pulled me by my hair and tied me down. That night I was r***d. For years, I struggled with the thought that it was my fault. That's what everyone in my school was saying, so that's what I started to believe: It was MY fault I didn't yell louder. It was MY fault I didn't kick harder. Maybe I really DID "ask for it"... I decided to tell my parents in the spring when I was 16. Their judgment matched everyone else's: they blamed me for putting myself in that situation. They wouldn't even look me in the eye. I wasn't their little girl anymore. I was a slt and they were very insistent in making sure I knew that.

I decided to leave home. I ran away. I rode my bike to my deceased grandmother’s house. The house had been vacant for 6 months. I used a rock to break the window and crawl through. There were no utilities but I was grateful to be somewhere absent judgment. Most of the furniture, kitchen supplies, and clothes had already been removed. I continued to take the bus to school and I made it a point to keep my grades up and stay involved in sports. It kept my mind off of things and gave me an excuse to shower at school. I made money by taking office supplies from Staples dumpsters and selling them at school. I actually made enough money to pay for AP books and tests, college applications, and laundry. Most of my clothes came from the lost & found. I stole most of my food from the cafeteria and bakery dumpsters.

One night when I got back to the house after a volleyball game, I saw that the front door was wide open. I hid in the bushes while I watched a group of guys take everything that wasn't nailed down, including my textbooks. Someone called the cops and I ran. I never went back to the house because I knew my parents would press charges for me squatting there. From then on, I started sleeping in class and during lunch so that I didn't have to sleep outside at night. I got a friend of mine to front me some w**d and pills, so I spent most of my nights running around the city making money. I cut my hair, dressed like a boy and wore lots of layers, even in the summer, so I would look bigger. I was only 5'2" 115lbs so I wasn't intimidating. I got my ass kicked and robbed many times. But I still made my way to school (almost) every morning. It's amazing how much teachers will overlook as long as you don't make a commotion in class. My senior year, I spent many nights sleeping in the woods by my school. I felt a lot safer there than in the city, I just had to watch out for people walking their dogs early in the morning. Also the money wasn't that good in the suburbs. People that have ‘a lot’ won't give, and those that have ’little’ give everything.

During the winter of my senior year, I got really sick. I had pneumonia, mononucleosis, and (what was much later diagnosed as) interstitial cystitis. Just when I was going to give up, stop fighting to breathe, stop fighting to get good grades, stop fighting to stay alive, my teacher pulled me aside. I had been using her address for my college applications. Not only was I accepted into 5 out of the 6 colleges that I applied to, but I got two scholarships to the University of Delaware! The rest of the year flew by because my spirits were high and I started dating a guy that had his own place. I kept positive because I knew that I would get healthy and I would be living in a DORM next fall!

I continued selling drugs through college because that was all I knew. I graduated from UD with a Bachelors in Pre-Veterinary Medicine and Animal Bioscience. I became a vet technician soon after, but got very frustrated at how poorly the shelter animals were being treated. Just because an animal, or a person, doesn't have a family, it doesn't make them any less of a being. I quit and started painting. I sell my hats under "Puff Puff Hats" and I travel all over the east coast during the summer selling them at different festivals. I guess I kind of "fell" into modeling. The pay is good and it gives me a reason to travel and meet new people.

I stopped selling drugs when I moved in with my fiancé in Wilmington. He is a paid firefighter/EMT so he runs into a lot of my old friends from the street. Not much has changed since then except that I have a roof over my head, my fiancés loving family, and the confidence to know that I can get through anything.

- Lindsay in Delaware

The I Have a Name Project | Practice Compassion

Hey here is the photo and story behind the guy writing the book about BACA, he was in Omaha for the 100 mile ride and wants to travel to all the main chapters meeting the ppl! It's really cool so read it, share it and help support it if u can!!

The faces of BACA (Bikers Against Child Abuse) A photographic book project documenting the amazing men and women bikers that put their lives on the line to protect abused children.