When I became homeless, I realized that I was more scared of having people know I was homeless than about the experience of living outside itself. That was a very confronting realization. My ego and my arrogance and my need to control how others perceived me was more terrifying to me than the prospect of living on the streets. Something had to change inside me and I didn't even know where to begin.

I was unfit to put a roof over my children's heads so they left to live with their dad across the country until I fixed my life and all the broken parts that were preventing me from being the caregiver I'd been for so many years.

So I took everything I owned, all the stuff I had accumulated in my years of success, and put it in the front yard with a sign that read "Single Mom Yard Sale: Everything Sells for $1." And I watched for a week as the people poured in and took my cherished belongings piece by piece.

After a brief period at a friend's house where I licked my wounds, I packed up what was left that could fit in my Camry and started driving west. I didn't know where I was going, just knew that I wasn't going to do anything until I stopped hating myself for failing. That was how I finally saw my true self.