Written By Jen Anderson
A story of domestic violence, breast cancer, and the unshakeable faith that carried her through.

I first connected with Orsika inside a coaching mastermind, one of those sacred containers where people show up week after week on Zoom, and if you pay close enough attention, you start to see the gifts each person carries. That is exactly what happened with us. It did not take long before we both noticed the overlap: in our stories, in our values, in the way we see the world.
We scheduled a one-on-one connection call, just the two of us. What we found on that call was something that does not happen every day: the kind of easy, deep recognition that makes you feel like you have known someone for years. We have been encouraging and supporting each other ever since.
In February of 2024, we attended a live event together through our mastermind and shared a room. Spending that concentrated time together, in each other's energy, cemented what we already suspected: this is a God thing. There is a lot of likeness between us, a lot of similarity in our stories, and an ease in our friendship that is genuinely rare.
I am honored to call Orsika a dear friend and a future co-creator. This fall, we are stepping into something new together: our very first retreat. It is the beginning of something we believe will be beautiful, and we are praying over every part of it.
But before all of that, I want you to know who she is. Not just the woman who shows up full of light and energy, but the woman who walked through fire to become who she is today. This is her story.
Orsika is the kind of person who sees the best in people. She always has been.
But for a season of her life, that beautiful quality, the one that makes her such a powerful support to others, was the very thing that kept her stuck.
She was a young divorced mother of two small children when a mutual couple introduced her to the man who would become her next husband. Society had a script for her: you need a partner. You need to be married. With with low self-esteem already whispering that no one would want a single mom, she chose to overlook what she now recognizes as caution flags.
He was living with his parents. He had a strained relationship with the mother of his child. He was eager, too eager, to move in quickly.
"I just kind of put them aside [the caution flags].
People have downtimes. We all do. So, I gave him a chance."
The yellow flags turned orange. Then red.
His relationship with his mother was unhealthy. The mother of his first son showed up at their door with an accusation of infidelity. There were violations of her trust and her body that no woman should ever have to name. And yet she stayed, because each betrayal came with a new question that her wounded self-esteem answered for her: Who would want me now?
The turning point came when the family traveled to Michigan for a visit. When they returned, Orsika told her husband she wanted to rebuild their relationship on a healthier foundation. He wanted to rebuild the relationship physically first. When Orsika refused, he did what no woman should ever have to endure. He forcefully took what he thought was rightfully his.
"That is when I packed up and left.
I moved in with my brother and his family, me and my three kids, our dog, our cat, and our lizard, and we lived in his basement for seven months."
She found an apartment.
She worked part-time while searching for full-time work.
Organizations helped her with deposits and costs she could not cover alone.
It was hard. She kept going anyway.
"We learned from this. We grow from this. We don't ever go back to this."
Healing is not a moment; it is a marathon. And Orsika ran it with intention.
During her years working as a house manager and nanny for a family in Michigan, she filled her hours with self-improvement audiobooks. While she cleaned, while she organized, while she cared for others, she was rebuilding herself. Self-help content was in her ears sometimes for six or seven hours a day.
"Napoleon Hill. Jack Canfield. All of it. I was listening constantly."
But the pivotal moment came in the summer of 2019.
Her dear friend, Tracy called her up: Jack Canfield is coming to Chicago. You are coming with me. Buy one, get one. Orsika resisted. She could not afford it. Tracy upped it to the VIP package and would not take no for an answer.
Orsika sat in that room, surrounded by people who wanted to grow, who wanted to be better, who were investing in themselves, and something shifted.
That weekend, she says, was when she first truly felt it in her bones: I am worthy of a better life. She became a certified Jack Canfield trainer. And she began to understand something important about her own journey: she had not only been healing the wounds from her marriage, she was also healing childhood trauma she didn't even recognize as trauma.
"It was not just four years of domestic violence I was healing from, it was all of it, coming up at the same time. And it all had to be healed together."
The full arc, from the day she left to the day she genuinely felt capable and free, was about six and a half to seven years.
"It depends on how much you pour into yourself.
For me, it took that long, but I was doing the work."
In September of 2023, Orsika married the love of her life, Craig.
She describes it as the good life she could not have imagined from inside her worst season. Just months later, at a routine annual appointment with her breast surgeon, a woman who had cared for her through a lumpectomy back in 2019, there was a new lump. They kept an eye on it.
By May of 2024, the decision was made: go in and remove it, just to be safe.
Seven days after the procedure, Orsika received the pathology report. She did her research, Mayo Clinic, Johns Hopkins, and already suspected what the results might say before she reached out to her surgeon.
The call came. Yes, it is cancer. Come on in.
"I did not freak out. I was like, okay. It is just one more thing."
Her faith held her. And the resilience she had spent years building, through domestic violence, through childhood trauma, through thousands of hours of self-work, held her too.
"I thought, if I had stayed in that marriage,
I would not even be here to have this conversation."
What followed was a series of surgeries spanning several months: a bilateral mastectomy, expanders, a replacement surgery, and a few additional procedures in between.
It was a physically demanding season. But emotionally, Orsika found herself better equipped than she ever could have predicted.
"I did not know I was stronger than I am. But God told me that I was. He showed me. He was right there, carrying me: that one set of footprints in the sand."
IN HER OWN WORDS...
When asked what she attributes her strength to, Orsika does not hesitate. "It was the Lord. Absolutely Jesus, just being there, holding my hand." She describes her daily practice of prayer: a small black book full of prayer requests, ten minutes each morning, praying for others before herself.
The move to Michigan, she says, was a God thing. The breast surgeon who did not take her insurance but said they'd figure it out anyway: God thing. The MRI and specialist appointment that were supposed to take four to six weeks and instead happened the next day: God thing.
"I do not know how people heal without Jesus," she says quietly. "I really do not."
One thing that comes up again and again in stories like this is the role boundaries play.
Not just with other people, but with yourself.
The truth is, most of us were never taught how to define or honor them. But they shape what we allow, what we carry, and how we move forward when life asks us to pivot.
If you’re ready to explore that for yourself, the Boundary Blueprint is a perfect starting place.

Today, Orsika lives in a house she loves, with the right amount of land and good neighbors and chickens she talks to for five-minute breaks throughout the day. She is married to a man who is her partner in every sense of the word. She can go to the grocery store without counting every penny. These things, she is quick to say, are the lowest rung of her gratitude, the material baseline of a life rebuilt.
Above it: the people. A community of friends and a church family are her deepest relationships. The ability to set healthy boundaries with those who would drain her, and to hold space for those who are ready to grow. A self-worth she had to fight to understand and now holds firmly.
"The experience shaped me in helping me understand, in my soul, that I am worthy of a healthy, good life. And that is going to look different for each person, but the self-worth piece looks the same. Healthy relationships. Healthy boundaries. Taking care of yourself so that you can take care of the people around you."
Her parents escaped communism. Her family overcame adversity before she was even born. She carries that in her, the knowledge that she was not built for a mediocre life, and that the struggles she walked through were not meant to define her, but to refine her.
She pours into others now. She shares her story openly and vulnerably, not because it is easy, but because she believes, deeply believes, that one person hearing her story might catch a small glimmer of hope. That they might think: maybe that could be me.
"We heal ourselves and each other through vulnerability.
I am called to share my story in order to help other people heal through theirs.
To help other people out of the quicksand.
Both experiences taught me I am stronger than I realized.
I am more resilient than I ever knew.
And I am capable of redirecting my life into a life I could not even dream possible."
One of the biggest takeaways from Orsika's story is this: We are far more resilient than we realize.
In her story, I was struck by how many times life asked her to begin again. To rebuild after betrayal. To rebuild her self-worth. To rebuild her health. To rebuild her future.
And yet, she kept moving forward.
Not because it was easy. Not because she always felt strong. But because she chose the next step, and then the next one after that.
I think many of us underestimate what we're capable of when we're standing in the middle of a difficult season. We look at the road ahead and wonder if we have what it takes. Orsika's story is a beautiful reminder that strength often reveals itself one step at a time.
You don't have to know how the whole story ends.
You only have to take the next faithful step.
Orsika Julia is a writer, speaker, and healing advocate passionate about helping others navigate burnout, caregiving, boundaries, and emotional healing. Through honest storytelling and practical guidance, she empowers people to rebuild self-trust, rediscover their voice, and move forward with resilience, compassion, and hope.
If you’d like to connect with her or learn more about her work through Out of the Quicksand, you can find her here:
Reach out at: orsikajulia2020@gmail.com
And as always, thank you for being here and for being part of my community.
Jen

Jennifer Anderson
Beliefs & Boundaries Specialist
Jen is the heart behind Thankful Hearts Coaching. She helps women slow down, reconnect with themselves, and create a life that feels calm, intentional, and meaningful without needing to overhaul everything. Through graceful guidance, honest conversations, and practical tools, Jen supports women in learning how to listen to their hearts, trust their inner wisdom, and find peace right where they are.
Jen is also the author for the Amazon bestseller "Give Your Yes a Bestie Named No" and a contributing author to several collaborative books, where she shares her message of boundaries, gratitude, and living aligned with what truly matters. You can learn more about her work at ThankfulHeartsCoaching.com.

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