The Beginning
I didn’t grow up dreaming of making a difference. I wasn’t always the person I am today. My early years were filled with struggle, confusion, and the kind of instability that leaves its mark — even if you can’t always put it into words. I was just trying to survive, figuring life out with the tools I had at the time. I made a lot of mistakes, some that would cost me years of freedom. Others that cost people their trust, their safety, and in one case, even their life.
This story isn’t about excuses. It’s about ownership, redemption, and the belief that people can change — especially when someone believes in them, even if it takes time for them to believe in themselves.
The Deep Struggles
When I was incarcerated, everything I thought I knew about myself was stripped away. I was locked in a system that sees you as your worst moment. It’s dehumanizing, violent, and relentless. And yet, it was in that darkness that something in me woke up. I began to see the impact of my actions — on others and on myself. I witnessed horrors I’ll never forget, and I contributed to pain I can’t ever undo.
I lost people. I watched lives end in front of me. One of those people was Auston Stewart — a friend I should’ve protected, whose story deserves to be told and remembered. I lived through moments that still haunt me, but they also lit a fire in me to do something different. To become someone different.
There were relationships inside that helped me hold onto my humanity. Skylar. Devin. Dustin. Each brought out a different version of me. Some of it good. Some of it broken. All of it real. I hurt people I loved, and I still carry the weight of that. But those experiences taught me what love, loss, and healing really mean.
The Transformation
In time, I stopped just surviving and started learning. I studied law. I fought my own case and helped others do the same. I earned an associate degree. I started to believe I had a voice — not just a past. I looked at my own behavior and called it what it was. I admitted things I never thought I’d say out loud. And I learned how to rebuild trust by showing up, again and again.
I found purpose in advocating for others — especially the ones society forgets, or locks away without question. I founded nonprofits to honor those I lost and serve those who are still here. I don’t have it all figured out. I still struggle. But I’m committed to living in truth, not shame. In purpose, not punishment.
The Mission Now
Today, I’m building from the ground up — for myself, for the people I love, and for the kids, families, and survivors who need someone in their corner. I want to protect young hearts, amplify hidden stories, and make it clear that no one is the sum of their worst mistake.
From the Auston Stewart Foundation, to Caleb’s Legacy Foundation, to Second Chance Ministries — everything I do is about giving back what I wish someone had given me: a second chance, and a reason to believe life can still be beautiful.
To You, the Reader
Thank you for taking the time to learn my story. If you’ve ever felt like it was too late to change, or too hard to climb out of the hole you’re in — I see you. I’ve been you. And I promise you this: as long as you’re still breathing, your story isn’t over.
Let’s build something better. Together.