The Four Pillars Model:
A Framework for Healing and Purpose

Origins of the Model

The Four Pillars Model is a visual and spiritual framework I developed to conceptualize my healing journey and highlight the four components that most profoundly shaped and sustained it. It began forming in 2013 during a mental health crisis triggered by undiagnosed bipolar disorder that culminated in a suicide attempt and a week-long inpatient stay in a psychiatric hospital. That experience, though deeply painful, became the foundation for my recovery and transformation. I share it openly to help reduce the stigma that still surrounds mental health and healing.

Shortly after graduating from Bridgewater College in May 2013, I experienced a severe crash that brought on a depression unlike anything I had ever known. My thoughts slowed, then spiraled. I woke each day with a heaviness that no amount of sleep or sunlight could lift. A well-intentioned doctor prescribed several medications, but my moods continued to swing wildly. By July, my condition had worsened. On the night before my twenty-second birthday, I took an entire bottle of Benadryl and Xanax. My mom found me unresponsive. I remember only waking in a hospital bed, my parents standing at my side, faces pale with shock and grief.

Between July and October, doctors tried multiple medications in an effort to stabilize me. I was teaching my first year of school, barely holding myself together. By late October, I entered my first manic episode and made choices that would alter the course of my life. Eventually, I found a psychiatrist in Fishersville who specialized in bipolar disorder. With the right care, patience, and structure, I began to recover. By spring 2014, I was working again, addressing legal challenges, and learning that balance was possible with treatment. At that stage, psychiatry and medication were my lifelines. Around that time, I began attending church—a fragile but real step of faith that reminded me survival is not the same as healing, and that grace meets us even when we feel unworthy.

By 2019, I had made progress. My legal matters were resolved, and I was consistent with treatment. But when I stopped taking medication, I relapsed. Substance use followed, along with three hospitalizations. The two-week stay at Bon Secours Behavioral Health at St. Mary’s became my turning point. Psychosis blurred reality; I was transferred between facilities until, finally, I stabilized in Richmond. Those two weeks stripped me bare. I remember fluorescent lights that never dimmed, the sterile halls, and prayers whispered through sleepless nights. Yet somewhere in that fog, something sacred broke through. That experience humbled me, clarified my purpose, and reminded me that healing begins when we stop running from truth.

After returning home, my pastor connected me with a therapist who specialized in bipolar disorder. At first, I resisted. Shame still clung to me, and I was weary of retelling my story. But I also knew I could never survive another collapse. Therapy became the space where I confronted pain, rebuilt trust with my family, and began to see beyond survival. Over time, through consistent therapy and psychiatric care, stability turned into genuine healing. Six years later, I still attend therapy weekly. It remains where I lay down burdens before they grow heavy and where I continue learning what wholeness really means.

That new foundation didn’t just help me rebuild my life—it gave me the courage to speak. For years, I carried my story in silence, afraid that sharing it would reopen wounds I’d fought hard to close. But healing taught me that what once broke me could now become someone else’s lifeline. Through reflective practice and guided imagery with my mentor, Dr. Cindy H. Carr, I began searching for what truly sustains recovery when everything else falls apart. Together, we uncovered four forces that had quietly held me through every relapse, every hospital room, and every moment of doubt. Those became the pillars of my well-being—Psychiatry, Therapy, Family, and Faith Community—the foundation of what I now call The Four Pillars Model for Healing.

The Four Pillars

1. Psychiatry — This pillar encompasses medical interventions that address biological and neurological stability. It includes pharmacological management, diagnostic evaluation, and consistent collaboration with a psychiatrist. Stability in psychiatric care provides the foundation upon which all other forms of healing can effectively build. It allows clearer thinking, greater emotional regulation, and a more consistent sense of self.

2. Therapy — Therapy provides a psychological foundation for growth and healing. It offers a safe space to process trauma, explore emotions, and develop healthier coping strategies. Through creative therapeutic methods, such as personifying my medications to reframe my perspective on treatment, I learned to integrate acceptance and meaning into my recovery process. Therapy fosters insight, accountability, and compassion toward the self, all of which are essential for emotional and cognitive restoration.

3. Family — Family represents the social and relational dimension of recovery. It provides love, accountability, and belonging, which are essential for psychological safety and sustained healing. Supportive relationships serve as mirrors that reflect self-understanding and as stabilizing forces during times of distress. True healing cannot occur in isolation; it depends on connection and community.

4. Faith Community — Faith Community represents the spiritual dimension of the Four Pillars Model. It brings meaning, hope, and connection to something greater than oneself. Faith is not separate from psychiatry or therapy but intertwined with them. My belief in God gives me strength to face stigma, endure setbacks, and reframe my identity through a lens of redemption and grace. Spirituality deepens my sense of purpose and transforms suffering into growth.

A Turning Point in 2025

Since 2019, I had worked in the corporate world and advanced quickly through leadership roles in three multimillion-dollar companies. On the surface, I appeared to be thriving, but behind the scenes I was constantly battling cycles of overfunctioning and exhaustion. I pushed myself beyond healthy limits until my mind and body could no longer keep up. At all three jobs, I eventually had to use intermittent FMLA to recover from burnout and mood instability.

By 2025, when my position was eliminated as part of a corporate restructuring, I found myself at a crossroads. For the first time in years, I had no professional title, no structure, and no clear next step. My criminal record made finding new employment difficult, and that reality forced me to confront a deeper question about purpose. I realized that I had spent years striving to prove my worth through performance instead of embracing the calling that had been forming within me all along.

So I decided to return to what I know—the one thing that has given me both meaning and strength—mental health. I made the choice to dedicate myself fully to advocacy, sharing my story to help others understand that recovery is possible and that stigma can be broken through honesty and compassion. Today, I am pursuing certifications to become a professional mental health life coach. My goal is to use my experience, education, and faith to guide others toward healing, resilience, and self-acceptance.

This turning point in 2025 was not the end of my struggle but the beginning of my true purpose. It was the moment I stopped hiding behind achievement and started living with authenticity. I took off the mask of shame that had followed me for years and found the courage to speak freely about the reality of mental illness and the hope that exists beyond it.

Academic Foundations and Early Influences

My collaboration with Dr. Carr marked the beginning of a transformative intellectual and spiritual journey that deepened over twelve years. This reflection naturally returns me to my academic formation at Bridgewater College, George Mason University, and the University of Palermo in Buenos Aires, Argentina, where I completed a semester abroad. My studies in psychology and philosophy within the liberal arts tradition established a foundation for understanding human behavior, motivation, and meaning.

At age sixteen, I began working for the Boys and Girls Clubs of America, which sparked my early commitment to youth development. Throughout college, I served as a substitute teacher during the academic year, a summer school assistant every summer, and even took on two long-term substitute positions while completing my degree. I am grateful for the flexible schedules that made it possible, though in reflection I now recognize I was often pushing through periods of mania. Still, those experiences deepened my passion for learning and shaped my curiosity about how students engage, process, and grow. My psychology courses and classroom management studies became personal tools for understanding both education and the mind.

In 2016, I earned a Paralegal Studies Certificate from George Mason University to better understand the intersection of law and human behavior. But the reality is that my own story made it impossible to pursue that path. In 2013, I lost my teaching job publicly, my name and pain exposed in the media. Then in 2019, after going off my medication, I faced another headline for embezzlement that dragged the past back into the light. It was devastating. I was fighting my mind, numbing the pain with substances, and drowning in shame while the world watched. Those experiences broke me in ways that no textbook could have prepared me for. I could never practice law after living what it feels like to be on the other side of it. But that same suffering gave me a deeper compassion for people trapped in those same systems—people who deserve to be seen, heard, and helped.

I have always loved education and consider myself a lifelong learner. Yet I never imagined that I would one day revisit those same studies not just to understand others, but to finally understand myself. I am currently enrolled online at Light University through the American Association for Christian Counselors, working toward certifications that will equip me to serve individuals who find themselves lost in the same medical and legal systems that once held me.

Maslow and the Search for Purpose

My academic engagement with Abraham Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs began during my sophomore year at Bridgewater College in 2010. Maslow’s theory, first outlined in his 1943 paper “A Theory of Human Motivation” and later expanded in Motivation and Personality, proposed that human behavior is guided by a progression of needs beginning with physiological survival and moving through safety, belonging, esteem, and finally self-actualization. I was drawn to his belief that education is a vital force in helping individuals reach their highest potential. To me, Maslow’s framework was not just a psychological model but a roadmap for meaningful living and a reflection of my own desire to grow while helping others grow.

Maslow described self-actualization as the fulfillment of one’s potential and the realization of personal gifts in service to a greater purpose. He emphasized qualities such as authenticity, creativity, purpose, and compassion, which aligned closely with my developing sense of vocation. During my undergraduate years, these ideas became tangible at the Boys and Girls Club and in both Rockingham County and Shenandoah County school systems where I found a deep passion and sense of belonging in public education. Through those experiences, I began to see how learning environments that meet students’ basic needs for safety and belonging can awaken confidence and inspire growth. Each child’s progress and every breakthrough moment felt like a real-life example of Maslow’s theory in action.

During that period, I experienced my own sense of self-actualization. Education became a sacred pursuit where intellect, empathy, and purpose came together. Inspired by my mother’s perseverance as she earned her master’s degree while serving in public education, I came to see teaching as a vocation grounded in service, discipline, and love for humanity. My pursuit of knowledge became inseparable from my desire to serve. Each lesson I taught and each student I mentored strengthened my conviction that true education nurtures not only the mind but also the heart and spirit. In later readings of Maslow’s work, I learned that he expanded his hierarchy to include a sixth level known as self-transcendence, the stage where one’s purpose extends beyond personal fulfillment to the well-being of others. That concept deeply resonated with me. I came to understand my calling as a teacher as an act of transcendence—a way of giving myself fully to the growth and healing of others. Through teaching, I discovered that the greatest expression of self-actualization is not in personal achievement but in helping others reach their own potential and, in doing so, reflecting the divine image of love and purpose that unites us all.

Erikson and the Discovery of Identity

Building on Maslow’s ideas, I explored Erik Erikson’s Psychosocial Theory of Development during my undergraduate thesis on classroom management. Erikson’s model outlines eight stages of psychosocial growth, each characterized by a central conflict that shapes identity, from trust versus mistrust in infancy to integrity versus despair in late adulthood. His belief that human development continues across the lifespan provided a deeper framework for understanding the emotional and social dimensions of learning. I became particularly drawn to the fourth and fifth stages, industry versus inferiority and identity versus role confusion, which highlight the importance of competence, confidence, and belonging during adolescence. These ideas influenced how I approached teaching and classroom leadership, emphasizing environments that cultivate purpose and affirm students’ emerging sense of self.

While researching and observing classroom dynamics, I saw how experiential learning connects directly to Erikson’s theory. When students are given opportunities to participate, problem-solve, and take ownership of their learning, they move from dependence to competence. That process not only strengthens their academic skills but also nurtures their identity and confidence. In my own journey as an educator, I recognized that teaching mirrors this same developmental process. Every challenge in the classroom required me to grow in patience, adaptability, and empathy. Each success reaffirmed my calling to help others navigate their own stages of growth.

Through mentoring, I discovered that identity is not formed in isolation but through relationship and service. Every interaction with students, families, and colleagues became an exchange of growth and understanding. In this way, Erikson’s model became more than theory; it became a reflection of how human connection fuels transformation. My faith deepened this perspective by reminding me that authentic identity is not achieved through perfection or performance but through humility, reflection, and grace. I came to understand that our truest sense of self emerges when we serve others and find purpose in something greater than ourselves. Teaching, for me, became both an expression of Erikson’s developmental wisdom and a spiritual calling to guide others toward wholeness, resilience, and identity rooted in love.

Challenging Maslow and Erikson

The frameworks of Maslow and Erikson had once given my life structure, clarity, and confidence. Their theories shaped how I understood growth, purpose, and human potential. They helped me make sense of the world and of myself. Yet after college graduation in May 2013, when everything I had built began to unravel, those same theories could not hold me together. What I had once studied and taught with conviction no longer made sense in the wreckage of my life. The language of motivation and development became hollow when I could barely get out of bed. Everything I believed about progress and purpose collapsed beneath the weight of shame and confusion.

When my teaching career ended, I lost more than a job. I lost my voice. The identity I had worked so hard to form, the teacher, the mentor, the one who inspired others, was gone. I felt erased. The classrooms that once gave me belonging were replaced by headlines and whispers that made me feel like I no longer deserved to be seen. I turned to new paths, studying law and later climbing the ladder in the corporate world, desperate to prove that I still mattered. But every success felt empty. No degree, title, or paycheck could quiet the ache of a lost purpose. What once felt like self-actualization now felt like self-erasure.

This was the moment when Maslow and Erikson’s models broke open for me. Their insights were profound, but they did not prepare me for the collapse of meaning that follows public failure and mental illness. They did not explain how a person can know every stage of growth yet still lose the will to keep living. Living through bipolar disorder turned theory into survival. I came to understand that identity is not preserved through competence or achievement but through connection, forgiveness, and grace.

Faith became the only bridge back to meaning. When everything else failed, it was faith that whispered that my life still had purpose. It gave me permission to stop striving and start healing. It reminded me that being human is not about performance but about presence. Faith gave me the courage to face my story, to forgive what I could not fix, and to believe that suffering could become sacred. What once felt like a total collapse became the soil of transformation, the place where the seeds of The Four Pillars Model would eventually take root.

Engel and the Missing Dimension

My search for a more complete understanding of healing led me to George Engel’s Biopsychosocial Model, which frames well-being as the result of interactions among biological, psychological, and social factors. Engel’s work represented a major step forward in modern medicine by challenging the reductionist view that illness exists only within the body. His model acknowledged that the mind and environment are integral to health. Yet after living through twelve years of mental health recovery, I came to see that his framework, while revolutionary for its time, still stopped short of capturing the deepest dimension of healing.

Engel’s model helped me understand how brain chemistry, thought patterns, and relationships interact, but it could not explain the kind of renewal that happens when faith enters the story. Biological treatment can stabilize. Therapy can strengthen. Community can support. Yet none of these alone can restore the sense of divine purpose that gives suffering meaning. During my lowest points, what saved my life was not only psychiatry or therapy but the steady presence of my faith community, who prayed for me, believed in me, and reminded me that I was still a child of God. Engel’s model offered structure, but faith offered transformation. Without the spiritual dimension, recovery felt clinical and incomplete.

This realization became the foundation for The Four Pillars Model. I expanded Engel’s three-part framework to include spirituality as a fourth and essential dimension. The Four Pillars—Psychiatry, Therapy, Family, and Faith Community—represent the full picture of what holistic recovery requires. Faith is not an optional supplement to treatment; it is the sustaining force that binds the other pillars together. The inclusion of the faith community recognizes that healing involves not only the mind and body but also meaning, morality, and transcendence.

I am deeply grateful to Dr. Cindy H. Carr for her mentorship on the faith dimension and to the congregation at River of Life Ministries for showing me what spiritual stability and compassion look like in practice. Their example helped shape my conviction that lasting recovery cannot exist without belonging, accountability, and grace. My ongoing work and certification as a professional mental health life coach build upon this truth. The Four Pillars Model is not simply a theory born of research; it is the lived expression of my healing and the framework through which I now help others rediscover hope, purpose, and the wholeness that faith makes possible.

Integration and Ongoing Growth

The Four Pillars Model represents the integration of clinical insight, psychological theory, spiritual understanding, and lived experience. It serves as both a conceptual framework and a practical tool for sustaining recovery. Each pillar supports the others: stable psychiatric care strengthens therapeutic progress; therapy deepens family relationships; family and faith reinforce resilience and motivation. When one pillar weakens, the others require attention and adjustment.

Healing is not a fixed destination but a continuous process that unites science, spirituality, and self-awareness. The Four Pillars Model offers a comprehensive framework for individuals navigating mental illness, trauma, or personal transformation. It teaches that recovery is more than the alleviation of symptoms; it is the cultivation of meaning, belonging, and grace through mindful living. Mindfulness is the practice of being fully present with what heals us. Each moment of awareness invites the engagement of the Four Pillars that sustain recovery: Psychiatry, Therapy, Family, and Faith Community. True healing unfolds in the stillness of every mindful moment, where presence and purpose meet.

To learn more about how each pillar supports lasting transformation, click here to explore my Four Pillars series, where I share reflections and practical lessons drawn from lived experience and faith-based recovery. Living with bipolar disorder has taught me that healing is not about reaching a finish line but about embracing a lifelong process of stability, self-awareness, and grace. It’s more than managing symptoms; it’s learning to live with balance, purpose, and understanding—recognizing limits while still pursuing growth. I share these insights through what I call my Pillar Posts, life lessons I now teach again as part of my ongoing mission to help others heal and find hope.

Twelve years later, after dedicating myself to healing and transforming my experience to help others, I still face barriers to finding meaningful work that reflects my growth and abilities. These challenges led me to draft a Call for Action urging the Virginia General Assembly to review § 18.2-370.1 and align it with federal standards under the Adam Walsh Act (SORNA) to promote fairness, rehabilitation, and second chances. Click here to read the full Call for Action.