Cara Brookins was left emotionally broken when her second abusive marriage ended. She got well by building her own house, which she did after seeing YouTube videos on how to do it.
The mother of four started looking for a new house in 2007 after being forced to sell the Bryant, Arkansas, home she and her soon-to-be ex shared. At the moment, though, anything the computer programmer analyst could afford was too tiny. Brookins too felt obliged to take action to bring her family back together. She admits, “But I had no idea what that should be.”
Brookins, therefore, came up with the idea to build her own house from the ground up. According to Brookins, 45, “If anyone was in our situation, they wouldn’t do this.” “No one else viewed it this way, and now that I think about it, I understand it sounds crazy.”
One acre of property cost Brookins $20,000, and she obtained a building credit for about $150,000. She then started watching YouTube tutorials to learn how to do things like run a gas line, build a wall, lay a foundation, and install plumbing.
Her children, ages 2 to 17, helped her throughout the nine-month construction of the 3,500-square-foot home. At the time, Drew, who was 15 years old, helped Brookins make the preparations. Jada, who was 11 at the time, transported water from a neighbor’s pond using buckets because there was no running water on the property. She then combined the water with 80-pound sacks of concrete to create the mortar for the foundation.
It felt impossible the entire time, according to Brookins, who worked when the kids were in school. After school, Brookins drove her family to the five-mile-away construction site where she worked late into the night on the new house.
YouTube videos previously were vague and provided numerous solutions to a task. Brookins employed a part-time firefighter with building experience for $25 per hour to help with some of the more challenging tasks. She remembers, “He was a step ahead of us in knowledge.”
On March 31, 2009, Brookins and her kids moved into the five-bedroom home. She gave it the name Inkwell Manor in recognition of her desire to become a writer.
In the years afterwards, Brookins has written numerous middle grade and young adult books. She has also written a biography titled Rise: How a House Built a Family, which will be released on January 24.
Building the house helped Brookins emerge from her depression. We were ashamed that our best option was to construct our own shelter, Brookins adds. “We weren’t really proud of it,” In the end, it proved to be the best thing I could have done for myself.
She says, “You can do anything you set your mind to if I, a 110 pound computer programmer, can build a complete house.” Choose one goal and stay with it. Find the big thing you want to do, move slowly in that direction, and take those who also need healing with you. That has a lot of influence.
My Husband Gifted Me Money for Breast Implants and a Nasty Note for My Birthday
My Husband Gifted Me Money for Breast Implants and a Nasty Note for My Birthday—I Taught Him a Harsh Lesson
Nikkie thought she had the perfect marriage until her husband, Jack, gave her a cruel birthday gift that shattered her self-esteem. Jack’s obsession with perfection pushes Nikkie to devise a clever plan to reclaim her worth and teach him an unforgettable lesson.
I’ve been married to my husband Jack for over a year, but we’ve been together for six. In the beginning, it felt like a fairy tale. Jack was my best friend, my confidant, and the love of my life. Our relationship was filled with laughter, late-night talks, and a bond that felt unbreakable.
If someone had told me a year ago that my prince charming would turn into a superficial stranger, I would have laughed it off. But here I am, on the brink of unraveling a story that broke me to pieces.
It all began six months ago when Jack’s innocent trip to the gym spiraled into an obsession that shattered my self-esteem and brought our once-perfect world crashing down.
It started subtly. Jack would scroll through Instagram, stopping to show me pictures of fitness models with the “perfect” 90-60-90 figures. “Look at her, Nikkie,” he’d say, his eyes glimmering with admiration. “Isn’t she stunning? Imagine if you had a body like that.”
I laughed it off at first, thinking it was just harmless admiration. But the comments kept coming. “You know, you’d look amazing with a little more up top,” Jack said one evening as we were getting ready for bed. “Have you ever thought about getting breast implants?”
Each remark felt like a tiny dagger. I started to see myself through Jack’s eyes, and it wasn’t pretty. I saw every flaw, every imperfection. My confidence, once a source of pride, dwindled to nothing.
But the last straw came on my birthday a month ago. The day started like any other but with a hint of excitement that birthdays often bring. Jack woke me up with a bouquet of vibrant flowers, their scent filling the room with a sweetness that felt almost out of place.
“Happy birthday, Nikkie,” Jack said, leaning down to kiss my forehead. He handed me an envelope, his smile wide and proud. “Open it.”
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