From abuse, homelessness and teen motherhood to the Marines

By 18, I had been given away, survived abuse, experienced homelessness as a foster youth, become a teen mom and juvenile delinquent, lost and then regained custody of my child, earned emancipation as a minor and ultimately enlisted as a United States Marine. Each of those experiences molded the adult and lawyer I became. The gravity of each experience is immeasurable. Yet, I could not be who I am without each one.

My biological mom decided child rearing was too hard and gave us both away. My adoptive parents meant well, but lacked the ability to unconditionally love. It's not hard to imagine the resultant environment that context created. At 14, I went from student council president and a straight-A student to homeless on the streets of Long Beach. I had hit my limit, packed a small bag and walked out to the words "have a nice life."

As hard as the first 14 years were, they paled in comparison to the next four years of unimaginable hell. The details would require a book, but in summary, I learned to navigate waking up and wondering where I would sleep the next night. Would there be a roof over my head? I learned about broken systems, such as foster care, juvenile hall, child dependency and being a ward of the court. Systems that gave me no voice and turned out to be harsher and more violent than those at home. I felt like and had become nothing more than a statistic.

By 18, I had lived five lives and was on the path to nowhere. When "the system" emancipated me at 16 on 12 days' notice, they foreclosed any chance for school. I worked full time waitressing at Bob's Big Boy. Every day, I would say, "Please don't let this be the rest of my life."

The seed was planted when a coworker said she planned to join the United States Marine Corp (USMC). I realized the military was an option to earn while learning a trade. I could qualify to enlist if I took my GED, but would have to go "open MOS," which usually meant awful jobs like bulk fuel (pumping gas), infantry or a cook. Luckily, I tested high on the ASVAB and ultimately was assigned to an administrative position.

Graduating bootcamp is my proudest moment in life. It's above passing the bar, winning multimillion-dollar verdicts, or trial lawyer of the year awards. Undoubtedly it was proof in my mind I had a chance to be someone I could be proud of.

I graduated from bootcamp in Parris Island and was stationed at the helicopter base in Tustin. Although I adapted to military life, I didn't love it. Survival had made me fiercely independent. I didn't like being told by men that women had no place in the military, or who I could and couldn't date. The 1980's military didn't resemble the military of today. But I can see in retrospect, I can see it was outstanding training for me becoming a lawyer. I learned to turn my gender from a perceived disadvantage into an advantage, allowing others to underestimate me -- an approach that ultimately worked in my favor. I stayed local after discharge until I was recalled to active duty in early 1991 but mercifully only for a short while. By then, I was a single mom with a 7-year-old and a 2-year-old. Being recalled meant splitting up my kids and placing them with people who were not family. The impact war has on children of service men and women is something to which the general public is naïve.

While in the military, I went to night school and got my paralegal certificate. I transitioned immediately from the military into an entry level position at a law firm. I was grateful to be a paralegal because it gave me a job I loved and a stable career even with my limited education. There is no denying having USMC on my resume helped bridge the gap to get my foot in many doors.

My trajectory thereafter capitalized on my disciplined nature. I worked full time, raised two kids and went to community college. The juggling was insane, but I was prepared. By 25, I used my VA loan and bought a home. Shortly thereafter, I transitioned from community college into night school at Western State College of Law. I worked full time, so it took four years, but in 1997, I graduated with honors.

My legal life has been predicated on the foundation my upbringing and the military brought me. I chose elder abuse so I could advocate and champion for voiceless victims of abuse and neglect. It resonated just enough to let my passion stay objective while remaining authentic. Yet the mirroring parallels cannot be denied.

I had amazing mentors who taught me well. By 2012, I founded Valentine Law Group -- a boutique law firm in Mission Viejo that specializes in elder abuse, neglect and medical negligence. I could not be more passionate or well suited for what I do.

Sixteen years ago, I also started a nonprofit called Operation Helping Hands (OHH), which provides necessities to the homeless and scholarships to housing-insecure/homeless community college students. Initially, the goal was simply to expose my children to how other people in the community were struggling, but it quicky grew exponentially.

Last month, OHH held its first gala. We asked scholarship recipients to share how the $1,000 a month scholarships had changed their lives. One individual, who was homeless when we met her, is on a full ride to Berkeley and will graduate this spring with a degree in Rhetoric, English and Literature. Another had just started his first semester at UCLA, and when we met him, he had been spending many nights in his car. The third, with a 3.9 GPA, was also homeless when we met her and is on track to transfer to either Berkeley or UCLA.

Would any of this have happened had I not joined the USMC? The likelihood is a resounding no. I am a perfect example of how military service can redirect and correct one's path. Semper Fi to my fellow Marines. And a genuine heartfelt "thank you for your service" to all who have served.

For more information about Operation Helping Hands, visit www.ohhsc.com, follow @operationhelpinghandssocal on Instagram, and like Operation Helping Hands on Facebook.