On April 27, 1961, I was born in a sleepy backwoods, little country town called Berea, KY. I was the youngest of six children. My parents divorced when I was one, so my mom raised six kids between the ages of 1 and 13, on her own.

You can imagine the struggle my mom went through in 1962 as a single, divorced mother of six children. She had to work so my oldest sister, who was 13 at the time, took on most of the responsibility of the house and childrearing.

Without going into great detail, my mom was an extremely angry, controlling, and narcissistic person. She was exhaustingly negative, unkind, and a genuinely unhappy person who was physically, verbally, mentally, and emotionally abusive to all of us kids. I seemed to suffer the brunt of her abuse, and I’m sure it was because my inquisitive, strong-willed, and independent personality made it difficult for her to control me.

I left home early and tried surviving the best I could.  

With no training, guidance, or support, my circumstances turned ugly quickly. I was raped by a boyfriend and one of his friends. I was homeless numerous times. I ended up in a relationship that was violently abusive, which left me in the hospital, near dead.

After years of abuse, I married and had a child. My husband continued to carry the torch for the abuse I had allowed and accepted in my life. After two years of marriage, and having no other alternative, I took my daughter and moved back in with my mother.  Even though I was a grown woman with a child, her mental, physical, and emotional abuse continued.

I didn’t want to place my daughter in daycare so I worked numerous jobs as a live-in nanny, housekeeper, director of a daycare, and eventually ran a daycare from my home.

At the age of six, my daughter was molested by a 15-year-old boy at our church. He was a relative of someone who was a long-standing member of the church and who was in administration. I loved my church and was very involved, but after this incident, we were totally shunned. The pastor didn’t even call and check on us, people stopped hugging and greeting us. They would see us coming and turn the other way. I was even asked to step down from singing in the choir. I was completely devastated and at this point is when I began a deep, dark, downward spiral into hell.

I spent years on a roller coaster ride dealing with PTSD, acute depression, and food addiction. I ballooned up to 400 pounds. I lost almost all of my hair, I could barely walk, and felt so helpless and hopeless. I had no support and was reeling totally out of control.

One day my daughter and I had a huge, awful fight. I had reached my breaking point and hit rock-bottom.  I decided to commit suicide, so I bought a 12 pack of beer and a bottle of sleeping pills and checked into a hotel to end my miserable existence. As I was laying across the bed sobbing and contemplating how I had gotten here, there was a knock at the door. I peeped through the hole and saw a police officer standing there. Out of curiosity, I opened the door. He said, “Ma’am, we received a call that you are trying to kill yourself.”  I lied, said no, so after they asked me a few questions and I convinced them I wasn’t suicidal they left (to this day I’m not sure how they knew).

As I sat in that dark, cold, lonely hotel room, I began to plead to God to help me end this misery. All of a sudden I felt this warm sensation from the top of my head to soles of my feet and for the very first time in a long time I felt like things were going to be ok.

That was my wake up call!

Life, bills, work, and relationships became too overwhelming for me so I sold all my earthly possessions and made the decision to go to a women’s shelter. It was only a 30-day shelter so I took advantage of everything they had to offer. I got a job, saved my money, and bought a cheap car.  After my stay at the shelter, my friend found me a mother-in-law quarters to live in.  That was seven years ago, and I haven’t looked back.

I began intense therapy, reading self-help books, praying, meditating, going to the gym – anything I could do that was positive. I submerged myself in studying and researching self-love and setting boundaries. I stepped away from the toxic people in my life and replaced them with healthier, supportive people. I learned to go where I was celebrated, not tolerated.

These experiences are the inspiration for my upcoming book and self-love courses.  

I don’t share this story to bring reproach on my mother. I loved her and She did the best she knew how, and we made our amends before she passed away. I am not writing this looking for sympathy, attention, or anything else.  My purpose is to motivate and encourage you and others to understand that your life is in your hands. We teach people how to treat us by what we allow. If you don’t love yourself and understand your own worth, you will continue to allow others to treat you in ways you don’t deserve and it will tear you down.

The reason I started my business, Lenora Scurry, LLC, is to inspire women to rise above all the abuse, all the noise, and all the chatter that says you’re not good enough.

I am here to inspire women to take back our power and boldly become the women we were meant to be. It is time for us to remove the mask, be authentic, own our strength, release shame, guilt, and boldly become the women we were meant to be.

Are you willing to join me on this self-love revolution? Join the sisterhood!  

Find love, acceptance, encouragement, and a safe place to explore and discover that you are enough.  If you wish to dig deeper and embrace your commitment to self-love, join me and other amazing women for my 6-week online course, “The Self-Love Revolution: From Not Enough to More than Enough”