Clevonna Stevens, Peer Specialist 

On May 28, 2002, my father passed away when I was five years old. At that age, I didn’t fully understand what death meant, but I understood that something in my world had suddenly changed forever. My dad and I were inseparable. He was my hero, my protector, and my best friend. When he was gone, it felt like the color drained out of my world. As a child, I didn’t have the words to describe the pain I carried. I just knew there was an emptiness in me where my dad used to be.

That loss followed me as I grew up, and in ways I didn’t fully realize at the time, it shaped my life. I struggled with deep sadness and depression, carrying grief that my young mind never really learned how to process. As the years went by, I held tightly to the people who helped keep me standing— my mom, my granny, and my grandfather. They became my safe place. Their love, their laughter, and their presence helped hold the broken pieces of my heart together when life felt heavy. 

But on December 13, 2013, another piece of my heart broke. My grandfather passed away from a massive heart attack.

That loss hit me differently. I was older, old enough to truly understand what death meant. I realized that sometimes life can take the people you love without warning, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. It felt like the progress I had made in healing was suddenly erased, and I was standing at the beginning of my grief all over again. Then life again tested me in a way I never expected. In July of 2023, my mom was diagnosed with stage 4 cervical cancer.

Hearing those words felt like the ground beneath my feet had disappeared. My mom was my strength, my comfort, and the person who had been there for me through everything. Having to watch someone you love fight a battle like that is one of the hardest things a person can experience. Sadly, she didn’t make it. Losing her left a silence in my life that words can barely describe. Just when I was still trying to learn how to live with that loss, another heartbreak came.

In August of 2025, I lost my granny, one of the closest and dearest people in my life. She was more than just my grandmother. She was love, warmth, wisdom, and comfort all wrapped into one. Adjusting to life without both my mom and my granny has been one of the hardest journeys I’ve ever had to walk. Some days, the grief feels like a shadow that tries to follow me everywhere. But when the darkness starts creeping in, I remind myself of the beautiful moments they left behind. I think about the laughter we shared, the family gatherings filled with love, the holidays that brought us all together, and how they used to smile and call me their “little fatso.”

Those memories are like small lights that guide me out of the darkest moments. Through all of this, my faith has become my anchor. In my walk with God, I’ve learned that even when life feels unbearable, He is still there. He sees every tear, every broken moment, and every silent prayer. And somehow, He gives the strength to keep moving forward, even when your heart feels heavy.

This chapter of my life has a name. I call it Resilience. Because no matter how painful the journey has been, and no matter how difficult the road ahead may look, I refuse to give up. I will keep going. I will keep believing. And with God as my strength, I know I will make it through. 

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“No matter how painful the journey has been, and no matter how difficult the road ahead may look, I refuse to give up."