Summary:
Hi, I’m Cadence, a first-generation college student studying Psychology at Juniata College. After growing up in an unstable and emotionally unsafe home, college became my first experience of safety, stability, and hope for the future. Due to financial hardship, loss of income, and ongoing health issues, I’m at risk of losing the life I worked so hard to build. I’m asking for support to help cover tuition, housing, books, and essential expenses so I can stay in school, remain in a safe environment, and continue building a healthy, independent future.
More About Me:
My name is Cadence. I’m a current first-year, first-generation student at Juniata College studying Psychology, and this is my story.
Before anything else, I want to share who I am: I’m a sister, a second mother to my sister’s kids, a granddaughter, and a cousin, and although I am technically a daughter, I have never truly felt like one.
I was homeschooled after fourth grade, and to put it bluntly, my mother had no idea what she was doing. My older siblings got to go to public school, but with me and my younger brother she was going in blind. She tried to socialize us with other homeschool families, but because she struggled to socialize herself, it never worked. As a result, my brother and I spent nearly all of our childhood and teenage years isolated inside our rooms and our home. To give an idea of how lonely this was: the highlight of my week as a kid was our Friday trip to Walmart for groceries. That was the only time I had a reason to dress up and go anywhere.
To understand my upbringing, you have to understand my mother. My father is not really part of this story; he worked long hours and came home exhausted every day. My mother, on the other hand, has always shown clear narcissistic traits, and I don’t use that term lightly. My siblings and I carry the consequences of this, and most of us are now in therapy because of it.
Although there are stories stretching back to when I was two years old, nothing compares to the last three years of my life. My mother had a serious spinal issue that doctors overlooked until she lost function in one leg and had trouble using her bowels. After she finally had surgery, I was the one left taking care of her every day while my dad worked and my younger brother stayed tucked away in his room and focused on school.
Imagine being 17, without a driver’s license because your mother insisted you didn’t need one, with no friends since fourth grade, and no one outside your home to tell you differently. Imagine being confined to a house every day, waking up every morning at 7 a.m. because your mother was crying on your bed again, talking about her fear of dying whether from her medical issues or by her own hand, and imagine her telling you over and over that you would be the one responsible for taking care of your father and brother after she was gone. That was my daily reality for months.
One moment from that time will never leave me. It was our first Christmas after her surgery. We were making Christmas cookies, and she became furious because she couldn’t find the paintbrushes we normally used for icing. My dad gave us a new set of brushes he had, and that should have solved it, but it didn’t. My mother couldn’t accept that things were different. When I tried to reassure her, she exploded, saying she was leaving and never coming back, something I had heard since I was two years old. She stormed out, tried to slam the door, then threw a snowman sign back into the house so she could slam it properly.
My brother and I sat in silence for five minutes and then quietly started icing cookies. Thirty minutes later she came back inside, apologizing but saying she “couldn’t take this anymore” and was “going to have to kill herself.” I went upstairs, but she followed me saying the same things until I told her to walk away because my brother was still downstairs alone. That night was the first and only time I have ever seen my brother cry, and the only time he ever let me hug him. That same night I remember watching her take a steak knife we had into the basement with her, and I had to threaten her that I would call the police if she didn’t come back upstairs. The next morning, everything went on as if nothing ever happened, like it always did.
I have hundreds of memories like this. I’ve lived in a constant state of panic for as long as I can remember, and it’s only recently that I’ve learned what it feels like to not jump at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs and to be able to fall asleep without worrying what I might wake up to the next morning. It’s only been since I left for college
My parents do not support me going to college, and even if they did, they couldn’t afford to. They filed for bankruptcy this past year. I’ve always been my own caretaker and because of how sheltered I was, I didn’t have my first real job until last year. That job gave me my first taste of freedom, which is what pushed me to take the leap and apply to college. I had always wondered about college, but my parents told me it was impossible. I worked hard to get here, but as you can imagine, paying for everything on my own is extremely difficult, especially with little time to save.
My plan was to return home and work as much as possible over breaks. I had a really good position at my job. I was a hard worker and employee of the month more than once, but they let me go due to budget cuts. On top of that, I’m currently dealing with some unknown health issues that have made it harder for my body to keep up physically. At college, I’ve had my final meeting with financial aid, and they aren’t able to offer me anything else.
I can’t afford college, but I can’t afford to leave either. For the first time in my life, I feel safe. I have amazing friends here. I’m studying what I love. I’m building a future away from the panic and instability I grew up with. I’m terrified by the thought of losing all of this and being forced to go back home. Sharing my story like this is uncomfortable and scary, but I’m doing it because I’m out of options.
Thank you for taking the time to hear my story. Any support you can give whether it’s a donation, sharing this page, or simply offering encouragement means more than I can express. Donations will go directly toward my tuition, housing, books, and medical expenses that I cannot cover on my own. With your help, I can continue my education, remain in a safe environment, and build a stable, healthy future. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for helping me hold onto the life I’ve worked so hard to reach.
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