Life, meaning and finally learning how to live again. Struggling with addiction since I was 13, I have now been clean for twelve years, something I once believed impossible. Narcotics Anonymous saved my life, giving me a place where I could be honest, accountable, and understood. It is through NA that I learned the value of "just for today," a simple idea that carried me through some of my darkest moments and continues to guide me every day. This isn't my first time getting clean, but it's the first time I've stayed clean long enough to build a life that I'm proud of, grounded in hope rather than desperation. Recovery has given me the chance to pursue college, something my past self never thought I deserved, especially as someone who dropped out in eighth grade, it has allowed me to show up for my kids in a way I couldn't before. Being present for them, learning who I am and being consistent, is one of my greatest gifts. My recovery isn't perfect, and I don't take it for granted. I hold on one day at a time, grateful for the progress I've made and mindful of the work still ahead. I hope to stay clean today, and if I'm lucky, tomorrow too. For me, recovery is not just the absence of drugs, but the presence of purpose, connection, and a life l am finally able to live fully. I hope to give back as I have been given so much.

Losing my mother in 2016 changed the course of my life in ways I never could have imagined. Her addiction ultimately took her from me, but her absence became the force that pushed me toward a future defined not by loss, but by purpose, resilience, and hope. While her story ended in tragedy, mine continues with the intention of creating a life for myself and my children that breaks the cycle we were born into. Growing up, addiction was not just something I heard about; it was something I lived inside. My mother’s struggle shaped our home, our stability, and the way I viewed the world. There were moments of love, but they were often overshadowed by uncertainty and fear. When she passed, I mourned not only the mother I lost, but also the version of her and of myself that never had the chance to fully exist. I had to navigate emotions I had never learned to name before, including anger for what addiction stole, guilt for what I could not change, and grief for the future we would never share. By the time I lost her, I was already four years clean. I had begun building a different life, one rooted in recovery and stability, and I desperately wanted to bring her with me. I encouraged her to move with me, to seek help, and to believe that change was still possible. I held onto the hope that my progress could become her motivation. When she was unable to take that step, the weight of that loss stayed with me, not just as grief, but as a reminder of how powerful and unforgiving addiction can be. Support from Narcotics Anonymous became a cornerstone of my healing. Through the program, I learned to use journaling and meditation as daily tools to stay present and accountable. Writing allows me to reflect on my choices and honor the progress I have made, while meditation helps me sit with difficult emotions instead of escaping them. These practices remind me that recovery is built one day at a time, and that strength often grows in moments of quiet honesty. I am now approaching thirteen years of sobriety. Each year represents more than time, it represents thousands of choices to keep moving forward, even when the past tries to pull me back. Recovery has taught me discipline, humility, and compassion, not just for others, but for myself. It showed me that healing is not a single moment, but a lifelong commitment to becoming someone I can be proud of. That commitment led me to education. I recently earned my master’s degree and am now completing an unpaid dietetic internship, preparing to sit for the Registered Dietitian exam. I continue my education because I believe in the power of knowledge to change lives, including my own. Nutrition became my path because I want to support people who feel overlooked or trapped in cycles that seem impossible to escape, offering them care rooted in dignity and understanding. The biggest influences in my life are my children, who remind me every day why this journey matters, and the mentors and healthcare professionals I have met along the way who model what compassion and service truly look like. I also draw inspiration from advocates in recovery and public health who use their voices to fight stigma and expand access to care for vulnerable communities. I cannot change how my mother’s story ended, but I can choose how mine continues. Through recovery, education, and service, I am building a life defined by resilience, purpose, and hope for my children.

Life, meaning and finally learning how to live again. Struggling with addiction since I was 13, I have now been clean for twelve years, something I once believed impossible. Narcotics Anonymous saved my life, giving me a place where I could be honest, accountable, and understood. It is through NA that I learned the value of “just for today,” a simple idea that carried me through some of my darkest moments and continues to guide me every day. This isn’t my first time getting clean, but it’s the first time I’ve stayed clean long enough to build a life that I’m proud of, grounded in hope rather than desperation. Recovery has given me the chance to pursue college, something my past self never thought I deserved, especially as someone who dropped out in eighth grade, it has allowed me to show up for my kids in a way I couldn’t before. Being present for them, learning who I am and being consistent, is one of my greatest gifts. My recovery isn’t perfect, and I don’t take it for granted. I hold on one day at a time, grateful for the progress I’ve made and mindful of the work still ahead. I hope to stay clean today, and if I’m lucky, tomorrow too. For me, recovery is not just the absence of drugs, but the presence of purpose, connection, and a life I am finally able to live fully. I hope to give back as I have been given so much.

I never imagined that the quiet moments in my kitchen would become the beginning of a new life. For years that kitchen table had been the place where I wrestled with the weight of my past, addiction, fear, and the belief that someone like me was not meant for anything more. I grew up in a chaotic home where survival mattered more than school, and because of that I never went to high school. By the time I was old enough to make my own choices, drugs had already become the way I coped with pain I did not know how to handle. Recovery was not a single moment. It was a series of small choices that felt shaky and uncertain, but necessary. When I became a mother something inside me shifted. I love my children more than anything, yet I knew I was giving them a life built on the pieces of a story I wanted to leave behind. I wanted more for them. I wanted more for myself. At the same time, the shame of my past and the insecurity of not having an education sat heavily on me. There were mornings when I felt like the world had already decided who I was, a former addict, a high school dropout, a struggling stay at home mom. Those labels echoed in my mind and made it easy to believe I was stuck. But one day, sitting at that same kitchen table surrounded by bills, toys, and grocery lists, I realized I could not keep living a life that felt small for the future I wanted. I needed to rewrite my story. I researched programs and classes, anything that could open a door. Every step felt overwhelming. I questioned myself constantly. Who was I to think I could build a career. Who was I to want something better. But every time I looked at my family, I felt a spark of determination that carried me forward. Going to college as an adult, especially without a traditional education, has not been easy. I had to learn everything from the beginning while raising my children and managing a home and protecting my recovery. But with each class I completed and each barrier I pushed through, I started seeing myself differently. I became someone who could grow, succeed, and who is building a new future with intention. Today I am close to the goal I once believed was impossible. All I need now is to complete my unpaid internship before sitting for my registered dietitian exam. Education has become more than a path to a career. It is proof that healing is possible and that cycles can be broken. This scholarship will support my education, and a future built on strength, resilience, and the belief that transformation is possible. I am proud of how far I have come, and I am determined to go even further, for myself, for my family, and for the life I once could only imagine.

I never imagined that the quiet moments in my kitchen would become the birthplace of a new life. For years, that kitchen table had been the place where I wrestled with the weight of my past, addiction, fear, and the belief that someone like me wasn’t meant for much more. However, it should also be noted that many great times easing my kiddos were also at that table. I grew up in a chaotic home where survival mattered more than school, so I never made it to high school. By the time I was old enough to make my own choices, I had already fallen into the grip of drugs, trying to numb pain I didn’t have the tools to face. Recovery wasn’t a single moment. It was a thousand small decisions, shaky, uncertain, and sometimes painful. When I became a mother, something shifted. I love my children fiercely, but I also knew I was giving them a life built on the leftovers of my own brokenness. I wanted more for them. I wanted more for me. Still, the shame of my past and the insecurity of not having an education sat heavy on my shoulders every day. There were mornings when I felt like the world had already decided who I was allowed to be. A “former addict.” A “high school dropout.” A “struggling stay-at-home mom.” Those labels repeated like a broken record in my head. But one day sitting at that same kitchen table, surrounded by bills, toys, and half-finished grocery lists, I decided I wouldn’t let those labels define the rest of my story. I wanted to rewrite it. So I started small. I researched classes, programs, anything that would open a door. Every step felt overwhelming. I doubted myself constantly. Who was I to try and build a career? Who was I to reach for something better when so much of my life had been shaped by instability? But each time I looked at my family, I felt a spark of determination strong enough to push through the fear. Going to school as an adult, especially one without a traditional background hasn’t been easy. I’ve had to learn everything from the ground up while balancing parenting, household responsibilities, and the constant emotional work of staying grounded in recovery. But with every new concept I learn, every class I complete, and every barrier I overcome, I feel myself becoming the version of me I once believed only existed for other people. Education has become more than a path to a career. It is my proof that transformation is possible. It is my commitment to my children that cycles can break. It is my reminder that resilience grows in the cracks of the hardest moments. I am no longer the person who believed her story was already written. I am a woman rebuilding her life intentionally, courageously, and with purpose. This scholarship would not only support my education; it would invest in a future where my past is no longer a limitation but a source of strength. I want my children to see that healing isn’t just something you talk about, it’s something you fight for. And every day that I continue my education, I fight. I rise. I move forward. I am proud of how far I have come, and I am determined to go further, not just for myself, but for the family that saved me, and for the future I once thought I could never have. I only need finish my unpaid internship before sitting for the Registered Dietitian exam.

My journey toward continuing my education has been fueled by a deep desire for personal transformation and a commitment to creating a better life for my children. Growing up in poverty and facing the challenges of addiction shaped my early experiences and instilled in me a yearning for more. I wanted to break the cycle of hardship and show my children that they can aspire to and achieve a life filled with opportunities. The obstacles I have faced on this journey have been significant. As a child, I grew up in an environment marked by economic instability, which often left my family struggling to meet basic needs. This background laid a foundation of insecurity that I carried into adulthood. After facing my own addiction, I found myself at a crossroads, recognizing that I could either continue down a destructive path or choose to fight for a better future. I made the choice to seek help and have been a member of Narcotics Anonymous for over 11 years now. My recovery journey has not only been about maintaining my sobriety but also about using my experiences to help others. I’ve mentored individuals who are navigating their own struggles with addiction, showing them that recovery is possible and that they, too, can pursue their dreams. Balancing my roles as a student and a mother is undoubtedly challenging, but it is also incredibly rewarding. My children are one of my greatest motivation. I want them to see that education is not just a privilege but a pathway to a better life. I prioritize my time, often studying late at night or early in the morning when the house is quiet. I involve my children in my educational journey; whether I’m discussing what I learned in class or sometimes taking them with me, I make it a point to show them that learning is a lifelong endeavor. This approach not only reinforces the importance of education but also allows us to bond as a family. Managing academic responsibilities while being a mother has taught me valuable lessons in time management and resilience. I lean on my support network, which includes friends, which are mostly fellow members of my recovery community. We uplift each other, share resources, and provide encouragement, creating a strong foundation that helps me navigate the demands of my dual roles. My experience in recovery has also equipped me with coping strategies that I apply to my studies. The discipline I cultivated in maintaining my sobriety is the same discipline I channel into my academic pursuits. I’ve learned to set achievable goals, celebrate small victories, and remain focused on my long-term objectives. This mindset is crucial, especially when I encounter setbacks or challenges in my studies and in life. Overcoming the effects of addiction and poverty has been a lifelong journey, but education has become a beacon of hope. I want my children to understand the importance of resilience and the power of choice. I teach them that setbacks do not define their futures; rather, it is their perceptions and responses to those setbacks that shapes who they become. By sharing my story of recovery and the pursuit of education, I aim to inspire them to dream big and to believe in their potential.

Education is currently reshaping my life in profound ways, guiding me toward a brighter future while allowing me to give back to society in meaningful ways. As I navigate my educational journey, I am actively transforming my life after overcoming challenges like poverty and addiction. This journey has made me realize the incredible power of knowledge, not just for personal growth but for creating a better environment for my children and myself. Every day, I grow gaining valuable skills that are not only helping me advance my career but also demonstrating to my children the importance of perseverance to continue learning and doing your best. I want them to see that education is a tool for change and that it’s never too late to pursue your dreams. I’m committed to being a living example of resilience and hard work, showing them that they can overcome obstacles while helping others too. In the present moment, I am also focused on giving back to those around me. I am a member and volunteer at local Narcotics Anonymous groups that support individuals struggling with addiction, sharing my story and insights to encourage others on their paths to recovery. I have witnessed firsthand how sharing experiences can inspire hope and motivate others to seek education and better their lives. I currently have 11 yrs clean. Additionally, I’m actively seeking ways to support educational initiatives in my masters research to support nutrition professionals who may come in contact with those who experience substance use disorder. Whether it’s advocating for or findings resources for underserved populations, I am dedicated to making a difference. I want to ensure that others have access to the opportunities that education provides, just as I have been fortunate to experience. Right now, I am fully immersed in this journey, and I feel empowered by the knowledge I am gaining. I am excited about the future, not only for myself but for my children and the wider community. I believe that by living my truth and sharing my experiences, I can inspire others to believe in their potential and pursue their own paths of growth and education. Together, we can create a ripple effect of positive change, proving that transformation is possible, and that we can all contribute to a brighter future. These funds will help pay for the dietetic internship I just applied for and will start in the fall. It cost $9000 and will require me to work full time without pay for 30 weeks. I have faith that I will be able to continue to provide for my family. Thank you for considering my application.