volunteer
volunteer
.jpg)
Holding Onto the Hope Rope:
Brandy’s Story
It’s been said before that “it’s the hope that kills you.” In Brandy’s case, however, there’s evidence that just the opposite is true.
“Hope doesn’t ever go away,” she said. “That’s why they call it the ‘hope rope’ – you just have to hold onto it,” she says. The hope rope, in her words, is something that hangs next to you until the end of time, there in the dark, evident to you only by your fingers wrapped around it, sometimes more tightly than others. She says that to hang on is a conscious decision, and that it’s the right one, even when letting go can seem so easy.
But even for Brandy – the reflective, poised, determined woman who just finished her time at the Anacortes Family Center – a desire to let go existed that she had to overcome.
HER RELATIONSHIP WITH HOPE
Brandy first arrived in Anacortes in May of 2025, but her relationship with the hope rope started long before. She was born in Sedro-Woolley and grew up in Grays Harbor, as well as in several other places, but faced long odds for success in life from the very start. She grew up around drugs and addiction and was a user herself for several years. Another difficulty was a repeated failure to find consistent housing throughout her entire upbringing; no move was ever voluntary.
“The pressure of having my entire home taken from me came every couple of years during my childhood,” she said. “Lack of stability was my entire life, rather than just one moment.” However, in her descriptions of these memories, of the things she lived through as a child and eventually a young adult, Brandy doesn’t portray herself as powerless. In her own words, she’s a victor, not a victim. That much became clear to her when she turned 23 and had her first son. It was then she decided to get away from the toxic situations she had grown up with and “do a complete 180.”
ON A NEW PATH
“I had the power and the determination to turn my life around from what I was raised in… I knew I could make a difference. I dug myself out of my grave,” she reflected. For many, even favorable circumstances in life can feel overwhelming when children come into the picture. For Brandy, while the struggle didn’t end there, the birth of her first son gave her the chance to set herself on a new path. Whether out of necessity, desperation, whatever, Brandy started on a climb beyond her past, for the sake of herself and her new family unit. “There is a choice in those moments in which direction you go… I can step back in those moments, see the big picture, analyze it, and move forward. But it takes a lot of patience,” she said.
She felt that her time experiencing homelessness as a child gave her instincts and knowledge of resources that helped them stay afloat when she eventually came back to Skagit County. Self-sufficiency can only get you so far, however, when the deck is stacked so sharply against you. Now with two sons, stuck in a sling for two years thanks to a torn rotator cuff that needed surgery, and having just been forced out of an apartment and landing at a motel, Brandy knew the time had come to send up an SOS.
It was here that, in her own words, Brandy dug her fingernails into the hope rope harder, closer to the end of the rope than she had ever felt before.
ASKING FOR HELP
“I had to be honest with myself and not just compartmentalize everything,” she mentioned while talking about coming to the AFC. She had applied and been put on the wait list, but got in sooner than expected thanks to her taking care of the requisite paperwork, goal, and job logs before even being accepted. “I earned it,” she said.
“As long as you have the drive and the motivation… you will climb mountains here. It’s the self-doubt that’s the hindrance that gets people.” Self-doubt, fortunately, isn’t something that’s ever slowed Brandy down much.
Once she arrived at the Family Center in May of 2025, Brandy felt a weight come off her shoulders. “I was intimidated by asking for help because I wasn’t used to it,” she said. But “when I finally got here, I wasn’t in fight or flight looking over my shoulder every second… I could breathe and feel that net and security blanket for my kids, where they felt safe. I was able to let my guard down. I was able to rebuild my confidence. I didn’t have to feel closed off or reclusive.”
FAMILY CAN BE BLOOD OR NOT
She also experienced a revelation relating to her upbringing: “I didn’t realize family can be blood or not – I’ve established so many close people here that it feels like family.”
Now, Brandy has finished her time at the AFC and moved into a home only a few blocks away. She admits that it’s hard to leave a place that’s done so much for her and her family, but she’s ready for whatever challenges lie ahead. And her sons are lucky to have her: “Not only am I raising kids, but I’m raising them to be gentlemen,” she says.
On the cusp of a new beginning, graduated from the AFC, and approaching the 14-year mark of sobriety since quitting cold turkey, Brandy offered one last piece of reflection: “There’s a reason for me being here, because there’s so many times where my life could’ve ended.”
Thanks to the AFC – and her unyielding grip on the hope rope – Brandy’s life is better than it’s been in a while, and an example of the extraordinary power of holding onto hope.