My Story

I grew up on the south side of Atlanta in a loving family—one filled with joy, encouragement, creativity, and, like many families, unspoken struggles.

From a young age, I was surrounded by art. I spent my childhood in music programs, summer camps, and creative spaces that nurtured my imagination and taught me that creativity could be a refuge. At the same time, I carried experiences that many little Black girls know all too well. I lived through sexual trauma, family instability, a father whose presence came and went, and the quiet weight of trying to navigate a world that wasn't always gentle with girls who looked like me.

Despite those challenges, I was deeply loved. My family made countless sacrifices to give me opportunities they hadn't always been afforded. I attended excellent schools, participated in enriching programs, and eventually earned a scholarship to attend Florida A&M University. From the outside, it looked like everything was falling into place.

But healing doesn't always happen just because life looks successful.

The wounds I carried into adulthood showed up in painful ways. I found myself in unhealthy and abusive relationships that reinforced the belief that I wasn't worthy of the love, peace, and joy I desired.

By the time the COVID-19 pandemic arrived, I was overwhelmed. I coped in ways that pulled me further from myself—through drinking, smoking, drugs, and surrounding myself with environments that reflected how little I valued my own life. I was searching for relief, but I was only becoming more lost.

Eventually, I reached a point where I believed the world would be better without me.

I survived a suicide attempt, and the scars from that day remain on my body as a reminder of how close I came to losing everything.

Recovery wasn't instant. It was a choice I had to make over and over again. I was surrounded by family who loved me, and a close friend at the time—who would later become my husband and business partner, Kosi Sumpter—stood beside me with unwavering support. Their love mattered, but I also had to make the decision to fight for my own life.

For the first time, I wasn't interested in simply getting through another difficult season.

I wanted to become well. Not "better." Not "okay."

Well.

That commitment led me back to creativity.

I began writing affirmations for myself because I desperately needed to believe the words I couldn't yet say out loud. I filled journals with prayers, reflections, and gratitude. I meditated. I painted. I explored creative hobbies that reminded me there was still beauty inside me, even when I couldn't always see it.

Slowly, the voice of shame became quieter. The voice of hope became louder. Those simple practices transformed my life in ways I never expected.

What began as personal healing eventually became something I wanted to share with others. I started creating affirmation cards, journals, and wellness tools for women who, like me, needed a reminder that they were worthy, capable, and deeply loved.

That is how Breathe in Color was born. My greatest hope is that every journal, affirmation card, workshop, or conversation reminds someone of what I once had to learn myself: no matter what you've survived, your story isn't over.