FROM PAIN TO POWER
My Story — Alexa Gamache, Founder of Northern Bronco

I believe in telling true and honest stories — even the scarred ones. Because silence breeds stigma. And when we stay quiet, we let shame win.

When people talk about domestic violence, they usually focus on intimate partners. But what about the violence that happens between parent and child? That kind is almost never talked about. Nothing in school ever helped me recognize that what I was going through wasn’t normal — or that I could speak up.

And I know I’m not alone in that. It happens far more than we care to admit. I’m hopeful that our generation is the one that breaks that silence — and breaks the cycle.

Getting out of the situation I was in, surviving it, healing from it, and learning to see life differently — none of it was easy. But I believe it’s my duty now to speak up, and to bring light to a conversation that’s long overdue.

Here’s my truth: I was physically abused. I was hit, slapped, stabbed with objects. Things were shoved down my throat — once, my teeth were knocked out. I was suffocated with blankets many times. I was locked in sheds. Chased. Threatened. Screamed at. Sworn at. Guns and other weapons were involved. Objects were ctic to scare me.

And through all of it, I just wanted to be loved. I wanted approval. I wanted the parent who hurt me to show up at my soccer games. I wanted him to be proud when I scored a goal. The man who was suthrown. Doors were slammed. Even dangerous driving — speeding,  playing chicken with transport trucks — was used as a tapposed to teach me what love looked like, taught me fear instead.

But here’s what I’ve learned — and this part is important: For a long time, I sat in that pain. I felt sorry for myself. I waited for someone to save me. But while I still live with PTSD and anxiety, I’ve learned something life-changing: No one can save you the way you can save yourself.

Healing doesn’t happen in a day or two. It has no deadline. It takes time, sometimes a lifetime.  But shifting your focus, your perspective — that’s where power begins.

At some point, I made a choice to stop letting the past define me and start letting it shape me. To take all the fear, the hurt, the sadness, and the silence — and turn it into something useful. Something bigger than me. That’s what Northern Bronco is.

When I look at a photo of younger me — that little girl who was just trying to survive — I want to save her. And I know there are so many other kids out there right now, living through the unimaginable.

So this is for them. For her. For all of us.