• 15 Feb, 2025
• Shannon N. Knelsen

Turning Trauma & Chaos into Purpose: A Journey of Transformation – Shannon Knelsen

For the first few years of my life, I was the centre of my mother’s universe. At just 14-years old, she poured all of herself into raising me, determined to give me the best life she could despite overwhelming odds. I wasn’t her first baby—when she was only 13, she gave birth to her first child, who was placed for adoption. The pain of that loss left a deep scar, and she vowed not to repeat it with me. She ran away from home and became the first young woman to enter “The Rehoboth Home – House for Unwed Mothers,” a refuge for pregnant teens in 1987. The company tag line was “an alternative to abortion.” It was there in that not-for-profit, that she clung to hope and to me, choosing me and to fight for a life for us both.

Years later, I gained access to my mother’s diaries and learned more about how I came to be. She wrote that I was conceived in a backyard garden shed—a detail that, while unconventional, revealed her desperation for agency and love in a world that gave her so little control. That shed became a defining metaphor for my life: an unlikely beginning in an unlikely place, but one that was filled with a fierce determination to survive.

Although my mother never finished Grade 9, when she was in school, she found ways to make me part of that world. She brought me to her parenting class as a real-life baby for her classmates to learn from. Technically you could say before I could even walk, I was helping teach people what it meant to care for a child. Those early years with her, though marked by struggle, were filled with love and determination. She gave me everything she could with the resources she had available to her.

When my mom was 18, she gave birth to my younger brother. It’s no doubt that she experienced postpartum depression, compounded by the drugs she was using and the people she had gotten involved with. Her struggles grew heavier, and by the time I was four, the weight of her mental health challenges, substance use, and the chaos of her relationships became undeniable. My brother and I were swept into the turbulence, caught in a system that didn’t always know how to help us or her.

In the 1990s, courts overwhelmingly favored mothers in custody disputes, often overlooking the complexities of their situations. My brother and I were repeatedly taken away by Children’s Aid Society (CAS) workers and placed into the custody of family members or adult relatives, only to be returned to her when the courts deemed her fit again. Each time we were taken, I hoped things would get better when we returned, but the cycles of chaos and instability always repeated.

During these turbulent years, my mother was frequently admitted to psychiatric institutions. I vividly remember visiting her at the psychiatric hospital in St. Thomas, Ontario. The stark hallways, the heavy air, and the supervised visits are etched into my young mind. During one visit, she gave me a multi-coloured (extremely ugly) blanket she had crocheted as an inpatient. It was a gift that symbolized her love for me, even during her severe struggles—a love she could express in the ways she still had control over.

By the time I was 10, the court system made a final decision. My brother’s biological father—who had been in my life since I was nine months old—was awarded full custody of him. But he didn’t stop there. Knowing that placing me in the foster care system would likely separate us forever, he chose to adopt me as well, alongside his wife. Though we didn’t share biology, he made the conscious decision to accept me as his own, giving me a home and a family when I needed it most. His choice to take me in was a profound act of love and protection, ensuring that I wouldn’t be lost to the system.

From the moment I was adopted, work became a defining part of my identity. At 11 years old, I started my first paper route. I babysat, cut grass for neighbors, and looked for any opportunity to contribute. By the time I was 13, I began volunteering at a long-term care (LTC) home, folding laundry and helping in small ways. That experience opened a door for me, and at 14, I was hired as a “laundry student,” officially starting my career in healthcare. I worked in that same LTC home for the next eight years, learning the value of hard work, empathy, and community. It was in this LTC home where I met “Olive” – a 93-year-old who seemingly made a remarkable impact on my life, and she wouldn’t even know it. She was the first person I ever experienced death with.

When I turned 22, I made the decision to move to Toronto, eager to expand my opportunities. There, I continued my work in long-term care, and by running an Alzheimer’s Day Program every Saturday for the next eight years. It was rewarding and humbling work, teaching me patience and the importance of dignity in every stage of life. These years solidified my passion for working with people, particularly those in vulnerable circumstances, and helped shape the career I would go on to build.

In 2012, I transitioned into the hospital system, starting a new chapter in my professional journey. Over the years, I’ve worked in various capacities, from patient flow & complex patient case management to clinical operations and leadership roles. My 27-year career has been defined by a commitment to service, compassion, and continuous growth. What began as a paper route and babysitting gig turned into a lifelong mission to make a difference in people’s lives.

Alongside my career, I’ve channeled my energy into giving back to the community. In 2023, I founded Olive Branch Mentorship Inc., and we were incorporated as a non-profit in April of 2024. OBM Inc. is dedicated to supporting young professionals and fostering intergenerational connections. Through mentorship programs, leadership initiatives, and community projects, I’m working to create opportunities for others who feel unseen or undervalued, just as I once did. The not-for-profit has been thriving, and we’re now looking to expand with The Olive You Podcast, a project that shares inspiring stories, professional development advice, and mentorship opportunities to reach even more people.

In January of this year, I’ve also started a new business: The Human Experience Co. This venture focuses on a series of small, positive projects designed to “improve the human experience.” My goal is to integrate these initiatives into businesses and public places, spreading positivity during the moments and experiences when people need it most. Whether it’s a dopamine dispenser filled with motivational messages, simple acts of kindness in unexpected places, or creating thoughtful tools for workplaces, I want to help people reconnect with the beauty of life, even in its hardest moments.

Resilience, for me, isn’t about pretending the pain didn’t happen or moving on quickly. It’s about acknowledging it and using it as fuel to create something better. My journey has been anything but linear—it’s been filled with loss, heartbreak, and challenges that I often struggle to put to words. But it’s also been filled with love, growth, and the belief that I could turn my struggles into strength.

Losing both of my adoptive parents has been one of the hardest things for me to overcome. I thought I would have them forever, given how young they were when they adopted me. My adoptive father, who chose me and gave me a home, passed away after a 4.5-year battle with Lou Gehrig’s disease – ALS. My adoptive mother followed years later after a 7-year fight with cancer that spread from her colon to her lungs and brain. My mother’s passing laid bare the fractures in my relationship with my adoptive siblings, who claimed I was never “officially” adopted (untrue) and excluded me from the family estate – changing my mother’s will 2-months before she died. They have chosen to live off the life insurance left behind, clinging to what their parents built while never creating anything meaningful for themselves. I could let this betrayal define me, but I refuse to let it.

Instead, I’ve put every ounce of my energy into building a life of purpose. My work with Olive Branch Mentorship Inc., The Olive You Podcast, and The Human Experience Co. are all reflections of my commitment to creating something meaningful out of the broken pieces of my past. Through mentorship, storytelling, and small acts of kindness, I’m working to make the world a little brighter for those who need it most.

Today, I am proud of the life I’ve built. I don’t have contact with my biological mother, out of choice and to protect my peace (read: sanity). My story isn’t just about survival—it’s about transformation. It’s about finding light in the cracks and proving that no matter where you start, you can rise, thrive, and inspire others along the way.