“My dad was in a biker gang, and my mom worked in bars throughout my childhood. One day, my dad walked into the bar where my mom was working, and he and his Nomad buddies parked their bikes right on the sidewalk. My mom came out and told him that if he didn’t move the bikes, she’d run them over with her car. They didn’t budge, and true to her word, she did just that! My mom was a lot of things, but dishonest wasn’t one of them. The bikes went down like dominoes.
Instead of being furious, my dad decided to ask her out. She got pregnant pretty quickly, and they tied the knot when she was six months along. That’s when she discovered he was a heroin addict. Three months later, I made my grand entrance into the world.
Not long after I was born, my dad had a stroke. Miraculously, he regained feeling on the left side of his body, but to celebrate, he shot up enough heroin and cocaine to have another stroke, which left him permanently paralyzed on that side.
One day, he got high and made a chilling choice to hurt me when I was just six months old, holding a knife to my throat in my crib. Thankfully, my mom stopped him, and that was the day we left for good. My mom’s next boyfriend abused me for three years. When I turned eight, I finally found the courage to speak up, and we moved again – a new town, a new bar for my mom, and a new guy. It was a cycle.
I had my first drink at twelve, and things spiraled from there. It quickly escalated from smoking pot and taking LSD to stealing from my mom to buy drugs for my friends. I got arrested in ninth grade for selling pot at school, and then again in eleventh grade for the same thing.
At 20, I discovered crack cocaine. I received a $20,000 settlement and blew it all on crack in just three months. Fiscal responsibility wasn’t really on my radar while I was hooked on cocaine and baking soda. This pattern continued until I was down to 85 pounds, homeless, broke, and had nothing to give anyone – especially myself. I felt broken and didn’t want to live that way anymore. I was turning into my dad. I asked the universe for help.
With God’s help, I got sober, and I still think it was a miracle. As for my dad, I eventually forgave him for everything. I cared for him in his last years when he was bedridden, doing my best to make him feel loved and not judged until he passed. I know that sounds wild, but how could I expect anyone to forgive me if I couldn’t forgive him?
Today, I’ve been sober since 2006. I have a wonderful husband and perfect kids. I run a successful business focused on helping healthy people thrive. I’m so grateful for who I am today – and it all started when I chose to forgive. Forgive others and forgive myself.
We DO recover!”