To tell you the truth, I have always been a caregiver. Because of the size of my family, I was the family babysitter at a very young age. Then I became a mother of two by the age of 17 — my oldest son was born when I was 16, and my second son at 17. My youngest came when I was 30.

But I had a strong support system in my family who helped me complete high school and college. I was lucky.

My journey as a caregiver really started when my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I had already left our home state in 2005, but in 2009 I had to move my mother in with me, because my sisters would not help, and I could not leave her to suffer alone.

That's when it became real for me. As Alzheimer's took my mother's mind and body, it made me understand how many other caregivers have a large family and still have no support. I'm the youngest daughter, and my sisters never helped me — so I understand how it feels to be left alone to watch the people you love suffer and pass.

My mother lived with me the last years of her life, living with Alzheimer's, congestive heart failure, and Parkinson's disease. She gained her wings in the comfort of her own bed, in my home, on January 9, 2022, at the beautiful age of 91 — with me by her side.

Being a caregiver to my mother changed how I see the way our elders are not getting the services they need. Watching her suffer for over 15 years made me put my voice and my books on the ground for those living with Alzheimer's, and for the caregivers who aren't supported by their families.

I had to take in my adult son, Kevin, because of his mental health. Kevin is in his late 30s, and he lives with schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, early-onset Alzheimer's, and a traumatic brain injury.

So at one point in my life, I had two people living with me with physical and mental disabilities while I was working a 40-hour-a-week job. And yes, it was not easy.

My day starts at 4 a.m., Monday through Sunday, because I work a full-time job. I get up and get myself ready before I check on Kevin — the same way I did for my mom when she was alive. I work out from 4:15 to 5, then take a quick shower, because my son has incontinence issues, as my mother did. I see if I need to clean him up and change his bedding, and then I make his breakfast and lunch for the day.

My mom went to a day program while I was at work, and the best part was that it was ten minutes from my job. She was able to get out of the house each day during the week. For my son, there is no support center, because of everything he is dealing with.

I only work ten minutes from home, so for a while I would leave at lunch to make sure he ate. Now my oldest son works five minutes from my house, and he comes every day to check on Kevin and have lunch with him.

Through my online support, I talk about insurance, wills and trusts, how to prepay for services, and the resources that can help families. I do it because I've done it myself.

I have a trust, and my services and Kevin's services are already paid for. In the event that I pass away, the policy I have for Kevin is in a trust for him, and my other two sons will oversee it together. Kevin is also the father of two, and his children are the only ones listed on his life insurance policy, which is paid every month.

My sons and my grandkids.

If there was one thing I could change, it would be giving my youngest son more mother-and-son time. I had him at 30, so he didn't get the same kind of mother my oldest two sons had, because of my role as a caregiver. But I'm thankful that we talked and moved past the pain I caused him.

Caregiving has changed me in so many ways. It led me to use my voice to talk about early-onset Alzheimer's and mental health in the Black community, and to work with my local community leaders. I host caregiver and mental health brunches with licensed professionals as guest speakers — doctors, lawyers, psychologists, and therapists.

Now, with my son, I fight for the rights of people living with mental illness in the Black community, because we are never seen, and we are already overlooked in the medical and legal systems. So I made it my priority to use my voice and become an advocate.

My mission is to take the shame out of mental health and help families find resources. I turned pain into a purpose.

My support comes from my caregiver community, and from knowing that it's okay not to be okay. I got the mental health help I needed through my therapist.

I want people to understand: when you are watching pain, suffering, and death, it can and will affect your mental and physical health. You have to understand when it's time to step away.

Our mission is to walk alongside caregivers, offering practical solutions, trusted resources, and emotional support so they can care with confidence, clarity, and compassion — without burning out. That means hands-on guidance, from home setup and medication management to appointments, finances, and legal documentation.

• Caregiver assessment and planning: understanding the level of care a loved one needs and building a customized care plan around their medical needs and daily routines.
• Caregiver selection and training: helping families find caregivers with the right skills, including specialized care such as Alzheimer's care.
• Monitoring and ongoing support: regular check-ins to make sure care is going as planned, and adjusting the plan as needs change.
• Resource navigation: connecting families with government benefits, home healthcare products, and community support, plus guidance on legal and financial matters like power of attorney and insurance.
• Emotional support: family coaching and stress-management tools to reduce burnout and help families keep their balance.

Because caregivers deserve care too.

I understand how it feels to be left alone to watch the people you love suffer. You don't have to carry it by yourself. Find your caregiver community. Get the mental health support you need. It's okay not to be okay.

And know when it's time to step away and take care of you — because caregivers deserve care too.