Someone recently inspired me to share a little more of my journey… so here it is.
I’ve struggled with addiction and destructive patterns since I was about 12 years old. For most of my life, I was either running from something or running toward something that would numb me. In and out of jail. In and out of relationships. Always chasing escape.
Six years ago, after the end of a relationship and the loss of my brother, I spiraled in a way that almost took me out. I was disappearing for days at a time, living recklessly, putting myself in situations that didn’t reflect who I truly was. I was surviving… but I wasn’t living.
My turning point wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t dramatic. It was quiet. I found myself homeless after walking away from yet another relationship where I wasn’t valued. I sat in a hotel room and realized I had two choices…
Repeat the pattern.
Or choose something different.
I chose rehab.
I’m honestly lucky to be alive.
My sobriety doesn’t look like everyone else’s… and that’s okay. I don’t follow a specific program or book, and I don’t count my sober days or time myself. My recovery is rooted in spiritual healing, therapy, radical self-awareness, and learning my patterns. I’ve learned my triggers. I’ve learned to pause instead of react. I’ve learned that peace requires structure.
I used to live in chaos. Now I protect order.
I prioritize self-care. I keep routines. I intentionally decompress so I don’t become overwhelmed. I write… a lot. Writing used to be my hustle in jail. Now it’s my healing. I create. I read. I do diamond art. I play games. I nourish my nervous system instead of attacking it.
I pour my heart and soul into my work caring for the animals entrusted to us. Watching them come in broken and leave with a second chance feels sacred to me. Service keeps me grounded. Purpose keeps me steady.
And I show up differently for my boys and my family now… with intention, with presence, and with a steadiness they deserve.
I’m 35 now, living a life I genuinely love… all while still healing and growing. I don’t have it all figured out, but I’m no longer running. And that alone feels like freedom.
Sobriety, for me, is choosing to face life instead of escape it.
If you’re in the middle of your own spiral, please know this: the turning point doesn’t have to be dramatic. It just has to be honest.
You can choose something different.
One day at a time. 