Who I Am

My name is Shirlena, and I was once the fun girl.
Life of the party. Sharp, bold, full of joy.

But everything changed in January 2018.

First, my mother died—unexpectedly.
Fifteen days later, her husband—my stepfather of 33 years—passed too. He couldn’t live without her.
And just like that, I couldn’t live the way I used to.

What followed were seven years of grief.
I disappeared from life. Isolated. Spiritually numb.
I moved cities. Detached from friends and joy.
I even created sickness in my body—literal cancer—that had to be cut out.
Then COVID came, and I lost my dad too.

I wrote a book during that time—Fingertips: A Mother’s Story of Faith, Anger, and Resiliency—because I was desperate to find my way back to God.
It tells the story of the miracle God graciously gave when He restored my son, who had been shot in the head at point-blank range, and the truth of my life: the trauma, the pain, the redemption.

But even after writing it, joy still felt like a guilty pleasure.
Whenever I got close to it, I would retreat—back into darkness.
Back into shame.
Back into silence.

Prophetic strangers crossed my path again and again—whispering reminders from God.
Little signs that He was still with me.
But when the promises didn’t arrive in my time or my way, I fell deeper.
That’s the danger of unfulfilled expectations—they don’t just break your heart.
They can break your hope.

That’s when life breathed into O’Stella.

At the very end of 2024, I lost what felt like the last of everything.
I had already been evicted from the penthouse.
Watched my bank account vanish through mismanagement.
Swallowed my pride.
But when even my self-identity and sense of worth were stripped away, that’s when I finally met God—face to face.

Not in a church.
Not through ritual.
But in the stillness.
In meditation.
In self-hypnosis.

In raw, unfiltered presence.

My surrender brought divine instruction:
“Record yourself listening to the voice notes you’ve been saving.”

I obeyed—not knowing that one recording—a wild, explicit, sacredly hilarious memory—would be the one to unlock everything.
It was raw. It was real. It was me.
It reminded me that healing doesn’t always whisper.
Sometimes, it laughs out loud.

Through hundreds of recordings, I’ve been speaking to you—on average, every three days—for years.
O’Stella is my way of finally turning the volume up.
Of engaging you.
Inviting you in.
Letting you see the full story.

I’m still becoming.
And I want you to come with me.

This isn’t just a movement.
It’s a rhythm.
A reawakening.
A remembering.

Through hypnosis, meditation, my psychology studies, and a heart anchored in faith, I’ve come to realize—
I am the perfect vessel to encourage others as we rebuild our confidence, restore our self-worth, and rediscover joy…
All while giving God the glory.

Because I’ve learned firsthand—
When you seek the kingdom first, everything else finds its way to you. (Matthew 6:33)

This is who I am.
And if any part of this feels familiar…
maybe it’s who you are, too.