We recently connected with Mildred J. Mills and have shared our conversation below.

Mildred J., thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. We’d love to hear about the things you feel your parents did right and how those things have impacted your career and life.

My parents, Abraham and Mildred Billups, were the original grit-and-grace duo. They had seventeen children. Yet, somehow, through lean times, times of plenty, and post-World War II Alabama, they raised us to believe in the power of hard work, the value of an education, and the importance of self-respect.

What they did right was make us feel loved—even when they didn’t have the language for it. They were tough, no-nonsense people. My daddy’s belt spoke louder than his words, and Mama’s quiet resilience carried us through years when our pantry was full of more hope than food. But they gave us faith, structure, and the kind of backbone that doesn’t bend easily.

Mama taught me how to cook, clean, take care of others, and hold a conversation that could warm a stranger or silence a room. Daddy taught me never to depend on a man for anything I could do myself. Together, they passed down one golden rule that I still live by: “If you fall down seven times, get up eight.”

Mildred J., love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

Let’s just say I didn’t take the elevator—I took the stairs. Sometimes barefoot, oftentimes carrying babies, but always with a story brewing inside of me.

I’m Mildred J. Mills—author, speaker, podcast host, truth-teller, and proud creator of the My Cotton Patch Moment podcast. I grew up picking cotton in Alabama and went on to build a career in corporate America, eventually becoming an executive. But it wasn’t until my 50s that I discovered I was born to tell stories—not just mine, but stories that speak to resilience, motherhood, race, faith, abuse, love, and the kind of healing that comes only when you stop hiding.

My creative work spans podcasting, poetry, essays, public speaking, and most recently, my memoir Daddy’s House: A Daughter’s Memoir of Setbacks, Triumphs & Rising Above Her Roots—a book that rose to #1 in several Amazon categories. I use storytelling to help others heal, find their voice, and see that their pain has purpose.

What sets me apart? Radical honesty. Unvarnished truth. I say the things people are afraid to say. I share what others bury. I’m not chasing fame—I’m chasing freedom for myself and for anyone who’s ever been silenced.

I’m most proud of turning trauma into testimony—and creating a platform where others can do the same. Whether it’s an episode on why it’s OK not to be OK or a poem about mother-daughter healing, I want my work to whisper to people in the dark: “You are not alone. You are worthy. You are still here.”

We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.

Absolutely. One of the most defining moments came when I sued my employer in Texas for racial discrimination, retaliation, and wrongful demotion. It was 2001, and I was terrified—but determined. The company fought back with everything they had. They grilled me in depositions for hours, accused me of being mentally ill, and interrogated me about everything from my sex life to whether my father was “a strict disciplinarian.”

It was dehumanizing. I became so sick I developed GERD and IBS from the stress. For the first time in my life, I began seeing a psychiatrist to hold myself together. But I showed up every single day. I read aloud the reports that tried to break me. I reminded those lawyers—and myself—who I was: a strong, Black, educated woman who had worked too damn hard to be bullied into silence.

That entire ordeal became one of the first “Cotton Patch Moments” I ever shared—and it taught me that true resilience is showing up for yourself when nobody else will

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

I had to unlearn the lie that silence is strength.

Growing up in a big family, especially as a Black woman in the South, taught me to keep my business to myself. “What happens in this house stays in this house.” You didn’t talk about abuse, pain, or mental health. You swept it all under the rug and wore your Sunday best like nothing happened.

But I carried that silence like a weight for decades. It wasn’t until I began writing my memoir—and later, launching my podcast—that I learned there is so much strength in vulnerability. Speaking the truth doesn’t make you weak. It makes you free. And, when I shared my truth, I found that others felt seen, heard, and validated too.

So now, I unlearn silence every day. I speak up. I write. I teach others to share their stories and remind them they can speak their truth—even if their voices shake. I urge them to choose faith over fear.

Contact Info:

• Website: http://www.mildredjmills.com
• Instagram: @mildredjmills (https://www.instagram.com/mildredjmills)
• Facebook: @mildredjmills (https://www.facebook.com/mildredjmills)
• Twitter: @mildredjmills (https://twitter.com/mildredjmills)
• Other: TikTok – @mildredjmills

  Email – [email protected]