My 10-year descent into addiction began at just 14 years old. Years of abuse had already shaped my sense of worth, so when someone showed me what I thought was love, I clung to it at any cost—and that cost became every drug put in front of me. When I found what I believed was my new “true love,” heroin, my life changed in ways I never could have imagined for the girl who once attended a Christian academy and never missed a day of church. I stole, lied, and pushed away everyone who cared for me. Within a year, I had become unrecognizable, another person entirely. The list of things I swore I would never do grew longer each day, until the only thing I saw in the mirror was what addiction had turned me into.

For a long time, I believed I wasn’t just addicted to the drugs; I thought I was addicted to “the life.” It was easier to say that than to admit I was lost, hurting, and in desperate need of help. Every time I hit what I thought was rock bottom, it crumbled again beneath me. Overdoses, jail, trauma, and what each one told me was that I didn’t deserve anything better. Then one day in a cold gray jail, surrounded by slamming gates and shouting guards, a correctional officer reminded me of something I had forgotten: I was worth more than the life I was living. She saw the smart, loving, generous girl I used to be, long before I could see her again myself.

Rehab had given me tools, but what I truly needed was time. Time away from the chaos. Time to understand that heroin wasn’t my ride-or-die—it was riding with me until I died. And I did die. Five separate times.

So I did something I still can’t believe I chose: I walked into court and told the judge I didn’t want probation. I asked for time. Time to heal, time to rebuild, time to believe I could live differently. Time to learn I deserved to be healthy, loved, and sober.

Eight months later, I walked out sober and clear-minded. And for the first time ever, instead of running down that hill like I always had, I simply walked. Then I turned around, looked back at that building, and knew in my heart I would never return.

My new life began on August 5th, 2005. With the support of people who believed in me, I realized there had to be a reason my heart began beating again after stopping five different times. So I earned my GED. Then I earned my bachelor’s degree. Then I became a Licensed Addiction Counselor. I built a life I once believed was impossible.

Today, I help others find the freedom I once thought I didn’t deserve. I meet people where they are, with compassion, without judgment, and with the unwavering belief that recovery is possible for anyone. If someone like me can rebuild her life from the ground up, anyone can. And I’m here to walk with you until you believe that too.