I have been in recovery from anything mood or mind‑altering since February 26, 2006. I was adopted at birth into a loving family, and when I was eight years old, we experienced a devastating loss – my mother passed away, and my father’s addiction began. Alcohol was always present in our home, and I took full advantage of it. I picked up my first drink in junior high and spent the next nineteen years chasing that feeling.

My addiction took me through detoxes, day programs, and countless attempts to get well. I lost my license and was introduced to AA in my late twenties, but my disease continued to progress. Drugs entered the picture. Anything that would take me out of myself. I was exposed to AA many times through consequences or programs, but until I walked in on my own, I wasn’t ready.

Even then, I didn’t “get it” right away. I went to meetings and still drank. I didn’t understand what was wrong with me until I heard alcoholism described as a physical, mental, and spiritual disease. Physically, I have an allergy to alcohol and drugs. If I don’t take the first one, I won’t get drunk or high. That truth changed everything.

Since the day I surrendered, my journey has held some of the greatest joys and the deepest heartbreak. Sobriety gave me a life I never believed I could have. I got married in sobriety, became a mother in sobriety, and learned how to show up for life in ways I never could before. Then in 2017, everything changed. My husband lost his battle with this disease, and five months later, my father passed away unexpectedly. The grief was crushing, and for a moment it felt like the ground had disappeared beneath me.

But I wasn’t alone. The fellowship wrapped around me when I couldn’t stand on my own. They reminded me to breathe, to pray, to take one step, one meeting, one day at a time. I knew I couldn’t drink – not with two children who needed me, and not after everything sobriety had given me. My husband and father had spent years encouraging me to step into recovery work, and in the midst of my deepest heartbreak, I felt their love and the unwavering strength of the fellowship lifting me up, steadying me, and pushing me forward into the woman I was meant to become. And one of the greatest gifts of my sobriety has been walking beside my sister and watching her find her own recovery. She got sober on August 11, 2011, and witnessing her transformation has been a blessing beyond words.

With the help of the fellowship, I walked through my fear and stepped into the calling that had been waiting for me for them, for my children, and for the woman I was becoming.

I moved my family from Massachusetts to New Hampshire and began a new life as a recovery coach. Helping others has become one of the greatest gifts of my sobriety. I love watching the light return to someone’s eyes. I love walking beside people on their journey and offering my experience, strength, and hope. Being part of someone’s healing is an honor, and it’s work I’m grateful to do every day.

Today, my life is grounded in service, connection, and the belief that recovery is possible for anyone willing to reach for it. My journey has held both joy and heartbreak, but every step has shaped the person and the professional I am now. Recovery gave me a life and it gave my children their mother. I carry the memory of those I’ve lost, and I honor them by showing up for others the way people once showed up for me.

Every person I meet reminds me why this work matters. Watching the light return to someone’s eyes, seeing hope take root again, and walking beside people as they rebuild their lives is a privilege I never take for granted. My work as a recovery coach is more than a career; it is a calling shaped by lived experience, resilience, and a deep belief in the power of community.

If my story can offer someone hope, courage, or the strength to take their next step, then every part of my journey has purpose. I am grateful to walk this path one day at a time and to help others discover their own experience, strength, and hope along the way. Alone I can’t – together WE can!

Healing, hope, and strength ODAAT!