The Lie I Told to Survive

For most teens, fitting in and finding your crowd feels like a matter of survival in middle school.

Just as I was about to start fifth grade, my mom was incarcerated. I had to move to a completely new area to live with my grandmother, and I was eager—desperate, really—to make new friends. I tried striking up conversations. I invited classmates over for sleepovers. All I got in return were stares, laughter, or worse—silence.

School milestones that should have been moments of pride and joy—music recitals, science fairs, fifth and eighth grade graduations—were the hardest. I watched as other parents hugged and beamed over their kids’ achievements. For me, these moments came and went quietly, shared only in short, heavily supervised visits to see my mom.

I once confided in a classmate about my situation. I regretted it almost immediately. From then on, I stuck to my cover story: “My mom’s a globe-trotting fashion designer.”

My grandmother did her best. She would come to school when there were issues, trying to advocate for me. But her broken English didn’t carry much weight in a system that didn’t know how to support kids like me. I felt invisible—unseen by my classmates, unheard by adults. Without friends to reassure me that I mattered, without the foundation of family support, without a sense of right and wrong, I started to believe the lies others told about me. I put on a lot of weight. My anxiety got worse. The idea that I didn’t matter slowly became my reality.

Eventually, I looked in the mirror and saw exactly what the bullies wanted me to see.

Then, something shifted. We started a CTeen chapter in Kendall, Pinecrest, FL—and I finally began to thrive.

Instead of being judged, I was embraced. Instead of feeling invisible, I felt seen. CTeen gave me a place to grow, to give, and to matter. My new friends helped me build confidence, strength, and willpower. I learned Torah lessons from our amazing director, Traci Levine, who helped me keep my head high and move forward. Walking the path of Torah and mitzvot taught me something that no teacher or classmate ever had: that I had intrinsic worth. That I mattered because I exist. That I have a G-d-given purpose.

And that changed everything.

The anxiety that once controlled me began to fade. I lost over 100 pounds. I began to feel light again—not just in body, but in soul.

When I attended last year’s CTeen Shabbaton in Crown Heights, my chapter surprised me with a belated Bat Mitzvah celebration at a restaurant. It was beautiful and healing. Through CTeen, I’ve continued to grow. Last summer, I attended both the Leadership Retreat and CTeen Xtreme. The girls I met there? I still talk to them every day.

Today, I celebrate all those achievements—with my mom by my side.

I chose to matter. I chose not to be labeled or limited by what happened to me. I chose to rise.

If sharing my story helps even one person realize they’re not alone, it’s worth it.

We all hit bumps on the road of life—some of them feel like mountains. Sometimes it takes everything you’ve got not to fall off. But I truly believe that Hashem never gives us a journey we can’t handle. And knowing how important I am in His eyes… that’s what gives me strength. That’s what makes me radiate.

Today, when I look in the mirror, I don’t see what others tried to define me as. I see the reflection of who Hashem always meant for me to be.