A Journey of Authenticity

Sometimes life hands you a script you never asked for, never wanted, and definitely didn’t expect to survive.

My story isn’t about being a hero. It’s about being real—brutally, unapologetically authentic in a world that often prefers comfortable lies to uncomfortable truths.

My Personal Story

My journey began on February 22, 1996—born to Robert and Sophia Diandrea.

I had two brothers: Anthony, three years younger, and Robert Talbot, my half-brother from my dad’s earlier relationship.

My dad was a larger-than-life character—hilarious, sports-obsessed, incredibly supportive. But he wasn’t perfect. He had a temper that could snap unexpectedly.

My mom was different—loving, protective, always in my corner.

The Illusion of Perfection

Around age 7, that perfect family facade started crumbling. This was probably around 2003.

My parents’ communication deteriorated into constant arguments. Their solution?

Divorce.

And suddenly, my world turned upside down.

We’d visit my dad every other weekend. Watching my parents see other people felt surreal.

I despised their new partners. In my teenage words, my dad’s girlfriend was “a straight bitch.” My mom’s new man was a “dork.”

But here’s the unexpected twist: they reconnected, remarried, and became closer than ever.

We learned to appreciate each other more deeply.

The Devastating Turning Point

September 12, 2009—a date that would define my entire existence.

My brother had been telling me about increasing tension at home. I was too wrapped up in being a “cool” teenager to listen.

That morning, my mom went out for errands. My brother would witness something no child should ever experience.

My dad called my brother into the bedroom. He forced him to lure my mom home. My brother lied about a knee injury.

After my brother hung up the phone, my dad told him “when mom gets home, run out the door.”

When my mom arrived, Anthony ran out the door, and my dad attacked her.

He murdered her, locked up the house, got a shower, and then took his own life.

Our parents were dead and we were now orphaned.

Survival and Resilience

My uncle Joe and (ex) Aunt Rhonda stepped up, becoming our guardians.

But life wasn’t done testing me.

Their marriage also fell apart. I found myself reliving familiar pain, feeling depression consume me.

My mind kept me numb and I kept busy, getting into mischief and heading down a slippery slope of a path.

Who can I trust? Why did people keep walking out of my life?

Lessons of Resilience

I learned that everyone fights battles we know nothing about. Those friends I thought had perfect lives? They were struggling too, just differently.

Resilience isn’t about never breaking. It’s about how you reconstruct yourself. I chose to:

• Be the role model my brother needed
• Embrace those who showed up for me
• Stop using my past as a crutch

The Ultimate Challenge

Your story matters. Your mess is your message. Your pain can be your platform.

Be genuine. Be you. Trust me, it’s not easy. You’ll need to work at becoming a better person every single day.

What’s the worst that could happen? You might actually start living.

Take the leap. I dare you.

The Meaning of Resilience

Life doesn’t give you a handbook.

There’s no manual for surviving the impossible, for picking up the pieces when everything falls apart.

But here’s what I’ve learned: resilience isn’t about being unbreakable. It’s about being broken and finding the strength to put yourself back together—again and again.

“knocked down 7 times, get up 8”

I could have become a statistic. I could have let grief consume me.

Instead, I chose to show up, if only for myself.

To anyone listening—whether you’re sitting in this room or reading these words years from now:

• Your past doesn’t decide your future.
• Your pain doesn’t define you.
• Be whoever the fuck you want to be.

Some days, surviving is an act of rebellion.

Some days, hope is the bravest thing you can hold onto.

So hold on.

Keep going.

And never, ever stop believing in yourself.