From Foster Care to NYC Shelters: Lyon Amor Braves's, Inspiring Founder Story

“From Foster Care to NYC Shelters: How Lyon Amor Brave Built DiedCheap to Fight Poverty, Exploitation, and Death”

From Foster Care to Surviving Life’s Hardest Battles

I grew up in foster care, constantly moving from one state to another, from one school to another. I was always the “new kid.” Stability was a concept I only read about in books. Family? I had none. I learned to adapt quickly, hide my vulnerability, and survive invisibly. Every move, every school change, every foster home meant a reset. I never had the chance to form deep, lasting bonds, and it left a mark on how I viewed the world.

Even in this chaos, I carried a stubborn spark inside me. A refusal to let my circumstances define my future. I was determined that my story wouldn’t end with being just another statistic. I clung to the belief that education, hard work, and resilience could carve a path forward — even if it was a lonely, uphill climb.

When I reached university, that spark faced a harsh reality: only 3–11% of former foster youth earn a bachelor’s degree (jlc.org). Against all odds, I did it. I earned a BA in Professional & Performance Arts, pouring years of study, discipline, and late nights into something that was supposed to feel like achievement.

But graduation didn’t feel like victory. I didn’t walk the stage. There was nobody to cheer for me — no family, no mentors, no one who truly cared about celebrating this milestone. The ceremony was hollow. The diploma felt like a predatory piece of paper, binding me to debt I could barely imagine repaying. Debt collectors started calling the day after graduation — before I had even stepped into a full-time job. Housing was ending. My college campus job was ending. I was thrust into the “big bad world” completely alone, financially drained, and emotionally exhausted.

The weight of adulthood hit hard and fast. That moment — the day after graduation — was a turning point. It taught me early what the world expects from people with no support: survive or be forgotten.

Teaching Abroad: A Glimpse of Hope

A few years later, I found a flicker of light in China. Teaching abroad offered an escape from the chaos and a chance to rebuild myself. The experience was transformative. I was thousands of miles from home, yet I felt alive, capable, and — for the first time in my adult life — valued for what I could offer.

I even became a guest lecturer in Beijing, filling in for a professor on sabbatical. I taught students to see the potential in everyone, to befriend and support one another, because you never know who someone will become. I lived this advice in my own life every day, forming fleeting but meaningful connections with colleagues and students alike.

But life abroad was far from perfect. Visa restrictions, bureaucratic challenges, and cultural barriers constantly reminded me that survival abroad was not a luxury — it was a test. I learned to navigate foreign systems, advocate for myself, and think creatively under pressure. These lessons were invisible armor I would need when the pandemic hit.

And then, in 2020, everything changed. The global pandemic forced me back to the United States. Suddenly, the country I had grown up in felt foreign. America’s personalities were harsher than I remembered, the work was underpaid and degrading, and I had no safety net. I felt disoriented, isolated, and — most painfully — alone.

NYC: Poverty, Hardship, and the Spark for DiedCheap

By 2025, after multiple attempts to regain stability, I was at my lowest. Exploitation, bad luck, and a job market designed to crush those without connections left me living in NYC shelters, struggling for the basics.

Then came another blow: my foster dad passed away, and my foster mother asked me for financial help. I couldn’t stomach the idea of his body being donated to science, so I paid for his burial. Grief, financial strain, and the weight of responsibility crashed over me simultaneously.

Working as a home health aide in New York City opened my eyes to a cruel reality: the only thing worse than poverty is being sick while poor. Patients endured illness, neglect, and underfunded systems that failed to support them. Witnessing this injustice daily lit a fire in me — a determination to do something that could make a tangible difference.

From that fire, DiedCheap was born.

DiedCheap: A Mission Beyond Money

DiedCheap isn’t just a website. It’s a mission, a platform, and a community. I created it to:

• Relieve the suffering that life and death can bring

• Share lessons learned from surviving foster care, debt, homelessness, and exploitation

• Build a community where people can help each other survive and thrive without being preyed upon by big corporations or predators

I promise to share everything I’ve learned: the lessons, the failures, and the hard-won successes. From navigating foster care, predatory debt, and life in NYC shelters, to surviving exploitation and a pandemic abroad, I aim to give readers tools and hope to overcome their own challenges.

Life Lessons from the Edge

Over the years, I’ve learned that resilience isn’t optional — it’s survival. Life will push you to the edge, and sometimes it feels like there’s nowhere to go. But I’ve found that even in moments of despair:

• Small actions matter. Reaching out, learning, and moving forward, even slightly, makes a difference.

• Community is essential. Connections with people — friends, mentors, students — can be lifelines.

• Knowledge is power. Learning to navigate bureaucracies, cultural systems, and financial traps equips you for the unexpected.

• Vulnerability builds trust. Sharing your story doesn’t weaken you — it allows others to see, relate, and support you.

DiedCheap is built on these principles. It’s a living archive of survival, resilience, and practical advice, where people can learn from my experiences and build a foundation to thrive.

The Future of DiedCheap: Ambition and Community

As of now, DiedCheap isn’t making a penny. We just started. Every visitor, click, and share is a step toward something bigger. But success isn’t about instant revenue — it’s about impact, knowledge, and community.

We aim to scale DiedCheap into a platform that:

• Provides actionable advice to survive hardship

• Offers insights from real-life experiences

• Helps people make money safely without exploitation

Every great community begins with a single step. If you’re here at the beginning, you’re part of this journey. Together, we can turn struggle into hope, knowledge, and power.

Why This Story Matters

My life has been a series of battles against abandonment, injustice, and impossible odds. DiedCheap is my declaration that resilience, vision, and community can create hope — even in the darkest corners of life.

I am Lyon Amor Brave, and this is only the beginning. If you’ve faced struggles, felt alone, or been underestimated, know this: we can rise, survive, and thrive — together.

Where We Are and Where We’re Going

As of right now, DiedCheap isn’t making a penny. We just started, and every visitor, every click, every share feels like a step in the right direction. We aren’t here to pretend this is an instant success story — building something meaningful takes time, effort, and patience.

But that doesn’t mean we aren’t ambitious. We hope DiedCheap scales into something truly useful: a platform where people can learn from my experiences, survive hardships with a little less stress, and maybe even find ways to make money without being taken advantage of by big predators.

We’re starting small, but every great community begins with a first step. Each day, we’re learning, experimenting, and improving — from content, outreach, and promotion to building tools and resources that actually help people. The goal is bigger than revenue. It’s about impact, community, and resilience.

So if you’re here from the very beginning, know this: you’re part of something in its infancy. Together, we’ll see it grow, scale, and make a real difference. And one day, we hope DiedCheap.com won’t just exist — it will thrive.