In the beginning, there was a girl who loved writing stories. She used crayons, markers, and pencils to illustrate their glories. Creating vivid worlds, bold and quaint. She got lost in her imagination and colored paints. "Put your pencils away. Take a break. Go outside" Her mother insisted, standing firm as her guide. But Daykeyla, the girl, was unlike other little ones. Her imagination was her home, the playground, the fun. "There was no time to play. There's work to get done." "Stories to write and pictures to portray," Daykeyla would say. "Outside!" Her mother urged, "Go play!" Down the stairs she treaded, water welling in her eyes, Walked onto the porch, tears trailing as she cried. Why does Mommy want to take away what feeds her joy and pride? Moments she sat before she dried her face. The laughter of others brought her back to the real place. She ran off to play tag with kids in the neighborhood. The day became night. She had more fun than she thought she would. Yet the joy she found with the neighbors was bittersweet. For the kids at school brought only defeat. Their words were like daggers, piercing her mind. They mocked her lips, her skin, anything they could find. If only they knew of the difficult time, Maybe they would have been a little more kind. The world abandoned her, left unprotected and alone. Innocence forsaken. Innocence stolen. Innocence gone. And she had to take all the blame. Her thoughts echoed, "You're worthless! Bad girl! Look what you became." Her once bright imagination was darkened by shame. Her mind was no longer the best place to retreat or hide. Her colorful vivid world was tainted by his pride. But one day she discovered a new road to which she could flee. The sign read, "Fashion Avenue" and piqued her curiosity. It was a new path to create, to feel whole, to dream. She drew gowns of gold, a story told in every seam. Dresses of every color sparkled with hope and light. Designs that shattered the darkest of nights. Every piece reflects her strength, her fight. Fashion became her love, her safe, sacred space. Fabric woven tales, each thread spoke of God's love and grace. Telling the girl's journey of healing through creativity. Her designs of love crafting hope to overcome adversity. Helping other women heal and become whole. Empowered, joyful, dressing for the soul. Surely it is a beacon of light for the world to see. Why Daykeyla is Fashion's Love Story.