From Chaos to Control: 3 Shifts That Change Everything
- Jun 1
- 9 min read
Updated: Jun 2

Chaos has a dangerous way of disguising itself as normal. Unfortunately, in today’s society and culture, we have especially become desensitized to chaos. This should not be the case.
When you grow up surrounded by fear, instability, dysfunction, abandonment, or survival mode, you don’t always recognize it as damage, - emotionally, spiritually, or even physically. You recognize it as Life and it becomes your norm. And what becomes habitually familiar in childhood often becomes repeated in adulthood and through the generations that follow. As a Lost Girl I knew these patterns all too well.
That’s the real danger of unresolved, buried, or masked pain, to both human potential and the soul: You don’t just survive it — you build patterns around it. Patterns that hurt others.
For years, I didn't realize how deeply my childhood trauma shaped the choices I made, the toxic relationships I tolerated, or the lack of identity I carried into my young adult life. I thought I was simply reacting to life in survival mode. In reality, I was repeating dysfunction I had never truly healed from.
It wasn't until my late twenties and early thirties that I began to force a shift. I first saw it show up in my marriage to David. I was madly in love with him. In many ways, he was my knight in shining armor. But when his childhood trauma collided with mine, the result was exactly what you might expect—two wounded people trying to build a healthy life together while carrying pain neither of us had fully addressed. We loved each other deeply. We loved God. We wanted to build a healthy, thriving family and give our daughter, Crystaline, a different future. But we struggled with pain, anger, control, emotional chaos, and dysfunction. When our son Caleb was born just three years into our young marriage, everything changed.
Because we loved each other, had strong mentors around us, and wanted something better for our family, we were forced to deal with the issues we had carried for so long. And dealing with them wasn't easy; it was messy. It was complicated. We made plenty of mistakes along the way. But each decade of our life together brought greater healing, clarity, and a new normal that emerged through hard work, intentional growth, and a commitment to draw a line in the sand. It would end with us, so to speak.
And I see this same pattern everywhere now — in leadership, relationships, business, parenting, and personal growth.
People aren’t always trapped because they lack discipline. Many are trapped because chaos became their blueprint. Dealing or tolerating dysfunctional drama in family or life becomes the norm and “ok” as part of our life. Normalizing it is not healthy for lasting fruitful success in our journey. I have found it only takes one person to create a shift - a shift that can change the future of generations that follow.
The good news? Patterns can be interrupted. But first, they must be acknowledged, seen, and dealt with head-on.
1. You Normalize What You Survive
As a child, I didn’t know my life was chaotic.
Fear was normal.
Instability was normal.
Pain was normal.
I lived with constant anxiety for as long as I can remember. As a girl and into my young adult life, I was terrified of the dark, distrustful of people, and terrified of what my future would hold. I wet the bed into my young tweens because I was too afraid to get up at night to go to the bathroom. I would sprint from the light switch to my bed because I was convinced something would grab my feet from underneath it. Many nights, I left the lights on just so I could see what was around me.
It wasn’t until I was around twenty years old that I intentionally began confronting those fears. I would turn the lights off, walk around in the darkness, and pray. I can still remember feeling like someone was behind me, only to flip the lights on and find no one there.
The fears I had to overcome early in my adult life were overwhelming. Fear of the dark, fear of being hurt, fear that David would leave me every time we had marital conflict, fear of failure, fear someone would discover my past, fear of being taken advantage of. The list goes on and on.
But when dysfunction is all you know, you stop questioning it. We lived in poverty. Most of the children around me came from broken homes too. Chaos was everywhere, so it never felt unusual. I just thought this is how people live.
The only time I remember seeing something different was when we visited my Aunt Ida in Marfa, Texas. Her home felt peaceful. Stable. Loving. The family sat down for dinner together. My cousins played happily. There was patience in the house. Kindness. Calm. Auntie Ida and mom Grace were half-sisters – they were close although they didn’t grow up together. I always wished Auntie Ida could be my mom. She was always so gentle and caring as well as concerned for us. She checked in on us regularly when we lived with Grandpa Willie (her and Mom’s dad). She would plead with my mom to get away from her dad Willie as he was such a central point of our abuse. In my Memoir LostGirl I talk about the tyranny we lived under when we lived with Grandpa Willie. Mom simply could never get away from his control or grip. That's the thing about chaos and dysfunction: if left unaddressed, they often follow families for generations.
I remember thinking: This is what normal must feel like.
That contrast planted something important in me: awareness. Because many people never realize their survival environment was shaping their identity. They carry survival habits into adulthood and wonder why peace feels uncomfortable. What you survive often becomes what you unconsciously recreate.
2. You Chase What You Didn’t Receive
One of the greatest truths I’ve learned is this:
Unmet needs don’t disappear.They pursue fulfillment.
As a child, I desperately needed three things: love, security, and safety.
Even though my mother could be affectionate at times, I never truly felt protected or prioritized. Her ministry, the people she was trying to “save,” and the chaos she continually brought into our home always came before us. Mom had a big heart for the down and out - people who were struggling. She cared deeply about the homeless, drug addicts, and those society often overlooked. There was something beautiful about that. But as a child, I often felt like everyone else came before us. I remember crying when she was preparing to leave for yet another ministry trip. I was around ten years old when she looked at me and said, "I will never let you kids get in the way of doing God's work." That moment stayed with me.
She was relentlessly committed to her ministry. In many ways, it became her identity. When her ministry ended, she struggled deeply and fell into a deep depression that ultimately killed her at the young age of 62. The death certificate says mom died of cancer. However, I believe she died of depression that then prohibited her from fighting her cancer.
As a result, I grew up feeling invisible. I also lacked confidence. I constantly felt insecure, unintelligent, and behind everyone else. I struggled in school and convinced myself I wasn’t capable.
So later in life, when someone finally made me feel seen, it completely disarmed me emotionally.
When I met David at nineteen, he was the first person who truly looked beyond the surface and saw me. We would stay up for hours just talking. He didn’t pressure me for physical touch or affection like other men did. He listened. He created emotional safety.
I remember telling him when he would hold me:“I feel so safe and protected in your arms.” He would just smile and he would hold me for hours, I was safe.
That mattered deeply because safety and love was something I had spent my entire life searching for.
This is why so many people ignore red flags in relationships, careers, or leadership environments. They are not always choosing from wisdom — they are choosing from deprivation.
If you’ve been emotionally starved long enough, any kind of attention can feel like love.
Control can feel like protection.
Chaos can feel like chemistry.
And until you understand the wound, you will continue mistaking survival responses for healthy choices.
3. You Repeat What You Don’t Repair
This was the hardest truth I ever had to face. The pain I hated most eventually started showing up through me.
My mother abandoned me emotionally in many ways. Later, as a teen mom, I found myself abandoning my own daughter emotionally after she was born.
I promised myself I would never repeat the cycles I witnessed growing up. Yet somehow, I still found myself drawn into destructive relationships, substance abuse, and emotional instability.
Why? Because unresolved trauma repeats itself until it is confronted. Drug use became my escape. It numbed the pain. It altered reality. It temporarily silenced the fear, insecurity, and emotional emptiness I carried inside. And abusive relationships followed the same pattern.
At sixteen, desperate to escape my environment, I became involved with an older man who initially showered me with affection and gifts. But eventually, the relationship became controlling and abusive. I felt trapped. Owned. Powerless.
The cycle I swore I would never repeat became the cycle I was living. That realization broke me. But it also awakened me.
Because healing begins the moment denial ends. Healing requires the courage to face your trauma honestly and the willingness to keep facing it as new layers reveal themselves. The truth is: healing is rarely a one-time event. It's a lifelong commitment to awareness, growth, and truth. I've learned that if we aren't intentional, old wounds have a way of influencing our decisions, our relationships, and even the future we're trying to create. That's why I believe healing isn't just about looking backward. It's about protecting what's ahead. It's choosing not to allow toxic behaviors, unhealthy patterns, or unresolved pain to shape your future—or the future of those you love.
The Turning Point
For me, the shift began in what I call Phase I of my journey when my daughter was born.
Holding her forced me to confront the truth:I was becoming what had once hurt me.
At the same time, the father of my child was sent to prison, and for the first time in years, I felt a sense of freedom from manipulation and abuse. Space opened up in my life to finally think clearly.
And in that space, I began to see possibility.
My mother — the person who had once been one of the greatest sources of pain in my life — became one of the people praying hardest for my transformation. She helped raise my daughter while encouraging me to change my life completely.
That season changed everything.
I surrendered my life to God.
I surrounded myself with healthier people.
I left toxic environments.
I walked away from destructive influences.
I entered the welfare-to-work program.
I started working for the State of Texas under powerful female leaders like Ann Richards and Kay Bailey Hutchison.
It was the first vision to women in power and influence I ever saw. I began to see it was possible.
I also embraced personal growth and development with a level of commitment I had never shown before. My mentors were a catalyst for my change – they challenged me, encouraged me, and helped me see a future that was bigger than my past. And in all honesty, marrying David played a significant role in my healing too. The funny thing is that we both grew up in dysfunction. Yet somehow, he seemed to have a better handle on his baggage than I did—at least until our worlds collided and we found ourselves dealing with the weight of my past and the drama that followed us into our marriage. (But that is an entirely different blog story!)
What I do know is this: For the first time in my young adult life, I could envision a different future. I began to realize something critical: Your environment can either reinforce your wounds or support your healing.
Healing is not accidental. Transformation requires intentional interruption and continual commitment to the change.
What This Means for Leaders
Trauma doesn’t disappear just because someone becomes successful.
In fact, many high achievers are unknowingly leading from unhealed pain.
It shows up as:
Control issues
Over-dominating leadership
Lack of trust
Emotional reactivity
Perfectionism
Fear-based decision-making
Difficulty empowering others
Hurt people often hurt people — even unintentionally.
That’s why self-awareness is one of the highest forms of leadership.
If you refuse to confront your wounds, your wounds will eventually lead for you.
Real leadership begins when you stop hiding from your story and start learning from it.
How You Begin Breaking the Cycle
If you feel trapped in repeating painful patterns, here’s where healing starts:
1. Acknowledge the pattern
You cannot heal what you refuse to face. Although painful, face it and heal!
2. Get around healthy people
Healing accelerates when you stop isolating and allow wise people to walk beside you. For me, that included not only mentors but also psychologists and counselors who could help me heal.
3. Accept accountability
The strongest leaders I know all have people who can challenge, correct, and redirect them. Be open to feedback then be willing to pivot and change.
4. Give yourself room to fail
Growth is messy. Healing is not linear.
5. Stay committed to becoming better
No one “arrives.” We are all still growing.
The goal is not perfection.The goal is awareness, healing, and forward movement.
Because your past may explain you —but it does not have to define you.
You can interrupt the cycle.
You can rebuild differently.
You can lead differently.
You can love differently.
But first, you have to see the pattern.
Because you can’t break what you refuse to see.And once you see it — you finally have the power to change it.
Author's Note: This reflection is adapted from my themes explored in Chapter 2 of my best-selling memoir LostGirl, where I share more of the personal experiences that shaped my journey from adversity to leadership.
To secure a signed copy of LostGirl, you can order it off my website here.
Also available on Amazon Here.
