My Story: Surviving, Reclaiming, and Rising

My name is Clelia. I was raised in a large Catholic family, the youngest of four. On the outside, things may have looked structured, traditional, and normal. But from a very young age, I experienced things that altered my life’s path before I even understood what a “path” was supposed to look like. I am also a survivor of childhood molestation. That experience shaped my early reality, my sense of self, and the way I learned to survive long before I had the language to describe what had happened.

In 2019, after years of trying to rebuild, I finally found myself stepping into who I thought I was meant to be. I recorded music I deeply loved. I launched my own photography business. I started to feel like I had a future again.

But life did not unfold the way I had hoped. When COVID hit, my world was interrupted again, but the pandemic was not the only disruption. I was suddenly facing a terrifying legal situation. I was tried as a convicted felon for possession of a weapon by a prohibited person. The weapon was a Glock 45.

People often ask why I would have something like that. The answer goes back to 2017.

That year, I was brutally assaulted. I ended up in the hospital. My sense of safety was shattered. From the outside, some people judged the weapon. On the inside, it felt like the only protection I had in a world that had repeatedly failed to protect me.

To this day, seven years later, I am still on federal probation. I created a website to document what happened and what I have learned through this process:
https://www.thesystemisthesideeffect.com

I had dreams of touring with my music and building a creative life. Instead, much of my twenties were spent navigating trauma, legal systems, recovery, and survival. While wearing an ankle monitor, I was sexually assaulted again by someone in the town I was living in. When I reported it, I was threatened. I fled to Florida for safety, stability, and a fresh start. I signed a lease, got a job, and tried to rebuild yet again.

But within a week, a probation officer decided I should return to my previous state, even though my life had just been reassembled. I had one week to dismantle my home, my plans, my stability. I herniated a disc moving out under the pressure, the clock running against me.

Before all of this, my life had already been complex. I am a labor trafficking survivor. At sixteen, I was placed on SSRIs and Adderall, which shaped my emotional development and ability to regulate myself. Years later, genetic testing revealed that my body is actually incompatible with the medications I was prescribed throughout adolescence. The long-term effects were profound.

In an attempt to heal, I attended what I believed was a treatment center in Surrey, Canada. I thought I would stay for two years and rebuild. Instead, I found myself in a cult-like environment. I walked out in under a month. This year, that center was shut down.

The more I learned, the more I realized that my story is not just my story. The systems that harmed me are harming many others. The man who assaulted me had other victims. The institution that claimed to be a place of help was tied to multiple suicides. The medications I was given without proper consideration changed my brain. My assault left lasting trauma. A car accident added brain injury to the layers of recovery I was already trying to navigate.

And still, I am here.

Despite everything, something in me refused to go numb. I have developed a strong investigative streak. I follow threads. I question systems. I seek truth. I understand trauma from the inside. I speak out, not because I enjoy the spotlight, but because silence almost killed me.

There is so much more to my story. Honestly, at this point, it belongs in a book. I lived several lifetimes before turning 26.

But for now, I share what I can in pieces.

If you want to support me:

• Follow me on social media so my voice can be amplified
• Sign petitions that protect survivors and challenge abusive systems
• Follow me on TikTok, even if my content is imperfect
• Stay connected as I continue to rebuild and rise

I am most active on Facebook. I know it is not the trendiest place, but it’s where I feel real connection. I am also sharing here on my website, because speaking my truth is part of reclaiming my life.

This is not just a story of trauma. It is a story of returning to myself.

A story of rebuilding identity.

A story of remembering that I am still here.

And I am not done yet.