Dallas Hope CharitiesDallas Hope Charities
With support from the Hope Center, Macey is finding the strength to start over
When Macey first arrived at the Hope Center, she was quiet, unsure, and still weighed down by the gravity of the life she’d been living. But just a month and a half into the program, she was already walking to nearby parks, navigating public transportation, connecting with queer peers, and—for the first time in a long time—setting goals that felt real and attainable.
It wasn’t long ago that she struggled to even leave her room. Now, she’s dreaming of a future in tech and building a support system that makes loneliness a little less threatening. At the Hope Center, she found a space filled with safety, queer community, and the tools to start over.
Macey grew up in an environment that couldn’t, or wouldn’t, make space for who she truly was. After coming out as nonbinary and pansexual, she faced a home life where support was conditional and understanding was in short supply.
Her first attempt at independence, moving in with a girlfriend and working at a pharmacy, quickly spiraled. She lost her job, her social anxiety worsened, and soon, basic functions like driving or leaving the house became overwhelming. She calls it “skill regression,” or the gradual erasure of her ability to cope.
When that relationship ended, Macey returned to her parents’ home, but things didn’t improve. She spent up to eight months confined to her room, retreating deeper into depression. The progress she had made with her transition, her confidence, and her sense of identity began to unravel.
Then came the tipping point: a suicide attempt she describes with a raw clarity that can only come from surviving it. “I sat in that closet for five hours waiting to pass out. And it didn’t happen,” she recalled. “I think that happened for a reason.”
What followed was a critical realization: she needed to do something different.
When her therapist first mentioned the Dallas Hope Center, Macey hesitated. The idea of entering a new environment and taking on the responsibilities again of finding a job and meeting new people felt terrifying. But after months of emotional paralysis, she made the call.
Since moving in, Macey has begun to reclaim parts of herself she thought were lost. She has a supportive roommate who encourages her to take steps outside her comfort zone, whether that’s walking to the lake, trying a new bus route, or simply dressing how she wants.
“I enjoy being around queer people, having more of a sense of community,” she said. “Especially since I didn’t know almost any LGBTQ people where I grew up.”
“I was not a good friend to myself. I had a lot of self-hatred. But I’m becoming a better one now.”
She’s taken real, tangible steps: getting approved for SNAP, scheduling appointments to resume her hormone therapy safely, and even landing her first job interview in a long time.
Her goals are ambitious but grounded: find work in software or IT, build friendships that last, and become independent. Most of all, she wants to keep growing into the kind of person who treats herself with care.
“I was not a good friend to myself,” she said. “I had a lot of self-hatred. But I’m becoming a better one now.”
