My Family And I Were Trapped In A Financial Prison. Then I Received A 6-Word Letter That Changed My Life.
Growing up in Belgium, I watched my mother leave for work at dawn every day to clean offices. She’d return home late, exhausted, and tell me about her day — the professors whose offices she cleaned often didn’t even acknowledge her presence. For them, she was the invisible person who emptied their trash. It was that invisibility that I vowed to escape. As a child, I didn’t know exactly how I would do it, but I knew that education was my way out.
That realization crystallized on a Sunday when I was just 11 years old. I stood in my mother’s bedroom, watching the smoke swirl from her cigarette as she sat immersed in one of the many classic novels she read on her days off. It was at that moment, as I gazed at her and the literary world she was trying to escape into that I made a promise to myself: I would break this cycle. I would rise above the generational poverty that had weighed on my family for as long as I could remember.
A few years later, my mother found love and remarried. We moved from Belgium to a small town on Cape Cod, where my stepfather lived. That move was life-changing for me. In this idyllic American town, I tasted freedom for the first time. I’ll never forget the feeling of buying my first bicycle, a pink Schwinn, with the $187.50 saved from my job at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute. The bike symbolized so much more than just a mode of transportation — it represented independence, a belief that I could chart my own path in life.
Guided by my stepfather’s best friend, a high school teacher who took me under her wing, I excelled academically. I set my sights high, applying to elite universities, and was thrilled when I was accepted to Georgetown for undergrad. Later, I would go on to earn two master’s degrees from other prestigious institutions. I thought I had played my cards right and that my hard work would finally help me break free from the struggles of my mother’s life.
But even as I achieved these educational milestones, the weight of my student loans loomed large. At each stage of my academic journey, I borrowed more, believing I was investing in a brighter future. However, with no one in my family to guide me through the basics of finance, I hadn’t fully grasped how those loans would compound over time, becoming a mountain of debt I could never climb out from under. Predatory interest rates meant that no matter how hard I worked or how much I paid, the debt never seemed to shrink.
By my late 30s, I had achieved professional success, but I still felt something was missing. With time running out to have children of my own, I decided to become a foster parent and build a family of choice. Welcoming children who had experienced homelessness and trauma into my home was both a challenging and rewarding experience. I transformed my rented house into a nurturing space where they could finally feel secure and loved. However, the reality of renting remained an ever-present threat. Our sanctuary could be taken away at any moment by a landlord’s decision, and the dream of owning a home seemed out of reach under the weight of my debt.
In 2020, just a few months into the pandemic, I received a call from the county’s adoption department about children ready to be adopted. Two years later, I officially adopted my three children from foster care. While the joy of creating my family was immense, I couldn’t shake the dream of offering them the stability I had always longed for as a child. I envisioned a home where they could grow up surrounded by the warmth of family, the sound of chickens clucking in the yard, the playful energy of rescue dogs, and perhaps even a donkey or two to guard against the coyotes that roam Southern California.
Yet that dream felt impossibly distant, with $185,000 in student loans hanging over my head. Homeownership, which could provide the stability my children and I desperately needed, seemed like a fantasy.
Then, earlier this year, a life-changing letter arrived.
When I tore open the envelope from Mohela, I expected yet another reminder of the debt I had carried for over 20 years — a staggering $185,000 in student loans. But this time, it was different. The letter said, “Congratulations! Your balance is now $0.” I didn’t believe it at first. This had to be a hoax. It couldn’t be real. Was I free? When I called Mohela, the customer service representative confirmed it: “Congratulations! Your student loans have been forgiven.”
Thanks to the Biden-Harris administration’s student loan forgiveness program, my monumental debt was erased. For the first time in my adult life, I felt a wave of freedom I had never known.
Biden’s student loan forgiveness didn’t just erase a number from my balance sheet — it gave me back my ability to dream. Suddenly, homeownership wasn’t just a far-off hope — it was a real possibility. The generational cycle of instability that had haunted my family for so long was finally breaking. I could see a future where my children and I had a permanent place to call home, a sanctuary where we could plant roots without fearing losing it to a landlord.
But this isn’t just about my family. The Biden-Harris student loan forgiveness plan is a transformative policy, not just for me but for millions of Americans. Yet, with the recent court ruling blocking the latest iteration, many are still waiting for the relief I was fortunate to receive. For so many, that relief could mean the difference between financial ruin and stability, between being trapped in debt and having the freedom to invest in their children’s futures.
Despite having a stable career as a professor and ghostwriter, the crushing weight of my loans, exacerbated by predatory interest rates, kept me in a financial prison. Now, with the latest student loan forgiveness plan blocked by a federal judge, my heart aches for the millions still ensnared by this burden. The battle for relief is far from over.
The impact of student loan forgiveness goes far beyond dollars and cents — it’s about creating a pathway to hope, stability, and opportunity for a better life. As I prepare to buy my first home — a milestone no one in my family has ever achieved — I am reminded of the power of policies that lift people. The chance to dream again, to provide a stable future for my children, and to break free from the generational hardships of my past is something that every American deserves.
Mona de Vestel holds an MFA in creative writing from Goddard College and is a ghostwriter for thought leaders and visionaries. She is seeking publication for her memoir “The Invitation to Rescue,” a blend of personal reflection and magical realism. Mona also co-hosts the “Women Doing Big Things” podcast for female entrepreneurs. You can learn more at www.authormona.com.
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