Healing Through Storytelling: My Journey From Trauma to Transformation
How I went from the scared little girl in the red house to the woman breaking cycles and why I'm sharing it all with you
Today's post is going to be different and honestly, the hardest one I've ever written.
I'm going to share my own story.
Now of course, my full story is in my book, I Was Once The Girl In The Red House, available on Amazon. But I was thinking about that TikTok trend where people say, "When people think I don't know ball… oh, I know ball."
And I realized I needed to share why I actually know what this journey looks like.
I want you to understand:
Why I have a podcast
Why I wrote my book
Why I'm so passionate about helping others who are stuck in the darkest part of their journey
Whether you just started healing or you're struggling with the decision to go no contact I share my story to show you that it does get better.
And more importantly, that you're never alone in this.
The Decision That Changed Everything
My mother and I have been no contact for about 13 years now.
I made that decision when I was 19 years old, right in the middle of my parents' divorce.
The moment I decided to go no contact wasn't just one thing it was a series of events where her behavior became more erratic and more dangerous. I didn't feel safe anymore.
That final realization that I had to protect myself was both terrifying and necessary.
That decision wasn't easy, but it was critical to my mental health and my life.
What It Was Like Growing Up
My mother was my biggest critic my biggest hater for as long as I can remember.
Nothing I did was ever good enough for her. Everything was always about what she wanted, what she needed.
I woke up every single day scared, wondering if she was going to have a good day or if she was going to make my life miserable.
The verbal abuse was constant. She found so many ways to:
Put me down
Make sure I knew she was superior and I was nothing
Make me feel like a shell of a person
I hated myself. I constantly wondered why she hated me. And I blamed myself for years.
I would tell myself, "If my own mother doesn't love me, why would anyone love me?"
I lived in constant fight-or-flight mode, always wondering when I'd have to face her wrath again.
I always felt alone. And that's why it's so important to me now to make sure no one else feels that way.
The Long Road to Healing
Once I went no contact, my entire life started to change. But it took me a decade to finally heal.
I tried therapy multiple times but never found a therapist who could help me deal with the trauma. I knew, with all the brick walls I'd built around myself, that I had to do this myself.
That's when I started writing letters. And later, I wrote my book.
The 10-Year Book
My book took me 10 years not because I'm a slow writer, but because I would start, and then it would get too painful to remember the hardest parts of my childhood.
I had so many different drafts that I completely scrapped.
I started writing during the anger phase of my grief. 10 out of 10, do not recommend.
But the turning point came when I realized what my book was missing: my healing journey.
For years, I wrote about the trauma, about what happened to me. But I finally reached a point where I felt healed enough to write about how I healed and how I was able to move on.
I had the strength to talk about my experience without crying, without being hurt by it anymore. That's when I knew I could finish it.
My final copy took a full year, from start to finish.
And writing that book is the reason I was finally able to see: Wait. This wasn't my fault. I was a child. It was her job to protect me.
My Driving Forces
My driving force through all of this has always been picturing the little girl I was alone in my bedroom, wishing anyone could save me or even just listen to me.
I never want anyone to feel that alone. That's always been my purpose: to make sure people know they're not alone.
Breaking generational cycles has been my other driving force so my children get the best version of me.
Breaking the Cycle With My Children
When it comes to breaking the cycle with my own children, I do things very differently.
I Give Them a Voice
I allow them to speak up when they don't like something.
I Apologize When I'm Wrong
Saying "I'm sorry" to my children is one of the most beautiful things I can do, because I never got an apology from my mother. Not once.
I Remember They're Just Kids
I remind myself every day that they're just kids learning how to be in this big, crazy world. So I try to have patience with them while they're learning.
I'm There for Them
I give lots of hugs and kisses and tell them every day how much I love them. I give them that reassurance that even though mommy might be mad at you right now, it doesn't mean I don't love you.
My kids are still really young I have a two-year-old and a five-year-old so I'm navigating cycle-breaking in an age-appropriate way. But I'm committed to it. Every single day.
What I've Learned About Healing
I've learned so much about myself on this healing journey. And I want to tell you, if you're on your own path of healing:
You're stronger and braver than you've ever known. No one can ever take that away from you.
You survived the worst part of your life.
It's Not a Straight Line
I would be lying if I said I just woke up one day and every negative thought or emotion I had about my past was suddenly gone.
Healing hasn't been a straight line.
I've had to learn how to take things day by day, and for someone who's always been a planner, that's been one of the hardest lessons to learn.
I'm still figuring things out. Still learning how to embrace the good, the bad, and the downright ugly parts of life and healing.
Some days I feel strong. Other days, I find myself slipping back into old thoughts or patterns and have to remind myself: You're not there anymore. You've come too far to go back.
Find What Works for You
What works for me might not work for you.
I used to spiral when I felt triggered, sometimes falling into deep depression. Now, I've found ways to talk myself through the process instead.
It doesn't mean I don't feel pain, but I know how to give myself space to move through it instead of being consumed by it.
Journaling and just writing my feelings has been the most therapeutic tool for me.
Maybe for you, it's something different. Maybe it's:
Meditation (even though I'll admit I can't sit still for long without my mind drifting off)
Running (that sounds like torture to me, but hey, we all have our thing)
Art
Music
Therapy
The point is: healing doesn't look the same for everyone. It's not supposed to.
It's about finding healthy ways to move through your emotions without letting them define you.
The Hardest Thing I Ever Did: Forgiving Her
Once I left the stage of anger and finally accepted everything that happened in my life, I realized something:
For me personally and I'm not saying you have to do this but for me, in order to move on, I had to forgive my mom.
But I will never have a conversation with her. She doesn't deserve that.
The Questions I Stopped Asking
For most of my life, I searched for answers. I questioned:
Why things had to happen the way they did
Why I never felt safe
Why love from her always came with strings
Why wasn't I enough for her to choose me, to protect me, to see me?
And maybe the hardest one: why I had to be the one to break the cycle
I wanted her to change. I wanted her to apologize. I wanted her to acknowledge the pain, the silence, the damage.
But she never did. And I've realized she probably never will.
So I stopped waiting.
Closure Was My Choice
Closure didn't come in the form of a conversation. It came in the form of a choice my choice.
I chose to:
Stop begging for love from someone who couldn't give it
Mother myself in all the ways she never did
Give my children a different story than the one I lived
I broke through the chains she placed on me when I was too young to understand what they were.
She doesn't get to control me anymore. She doesn't get to live in my head, or my heart, or my motherhood.
The house that built me will forever remain in my memories—sometimes warm, often haunting. But it doesn't own me.
The red house tried, but it never broke me.
I'm free at last.
What Happiness Looks Like Now
For years, I craved happiness like it was always out of reach. I used to think it would come once I checked certain boxes once I fixed everything, once I felt whole.
But what I didn't realize was that I was the one standing in the way of it. I was waiting for permission to feel joy. Waiting for peace to show up instead of choosing it in small, quiet moments.
These days, I find myself genuinely appreciating what I have and who I have in my life.
I don't mean that in a performative, social media caption way. I mean I actually feel it.
I notice:
The way my children's laughter softens the hardest parts of my day
How good it feels to be around people who don't expect me to perform or shrink myself to be loved
I'm not chasing anymore. And that, in itself, feels like peace.
The Truth About How Hard Healing Is
Healing myself has been the hardest journey of my life.
So many people just say, "Well, you have to heal." But no one talks about how hard healing truly is.
How many times you'll:
Wake up in the middle of the night crying
Scream inside your mind because you feel like you're going crazy
Ask yourself, "Why do I feel this way?"
"Why am I always sad? Why am I not happy? My life is great now—so why am I not happy?"
I wasn't happy because I never dealt with the past. Pushing everything away just made me angrier. It made me sadder. I pushed everything and everyone away.
And that's not a way to live.
You Don't Have to Do This Alone
Look, I'm not a therapist. If therapy works for you, absolutely do it. If talking to other people helps, that's awesome. If you're like me and you have to write everything down and get it out of your head because you over-analyze everything cool, do it.
Everyone heals in their own time, in their own way.
But feeling alone is something no one should have to feel on this journey.
So when I say I understand, it's because I truly do.
Healing Is a Daily Choice
I used to think healing meant reaching some kind of finish line, some final version of me who had it all figured out.
Now I understand that healing isn't a destination. It's a daily choice.
It's learning to show up for yourself:
Even when you're tired
Even when you're hurting
Even when the past creeps in without warning
I'm still a work in progress. I think I always will be. But that no longer feels like a failure it feels like freedom.
Why I Share My Story
Healing was so hard for me. But it's also been the biggest blessing I've ever had.
Will I say my life is completely perfect now? Of course not. You still have those days where things creep into your mind.
But now I'm able to sit here and talk about the most painful parts of my life—and it doesn't destroy me.
I have people reading the most embarrassing and vulnerable moments of my life when they read my book. But if I can help people with my story, then everything I went through wasn't for nothing.
I want to help you on this journey with the lessons I've learned along the way.
Healing is not easy. But you don't have to do it alone.
If you have questions about my story or you want to share a little bit of your own story, send me an email at hello@kaylavolturno.com
Read my full story:
I Was Once The Girl In The Red House (available on Amazon)
Write your own story with support:
Listen to the podcast:
Connect with me:
Instagram: @beyondtheredhouse
Website: kaylavolturno.com
