Growing up queer in my impoverished rural hometown meant navigating two irreconcilable worlds. Outside was a place where Confederate flags hung from porches and slurs punctuated everyday conversation. Inside was a truth I could not yet name but understood must stay hidden. In a town where everyone knew everyone else's business, having absent, alcoholic parents only magnified my isolation, creating the perfect conditions for a mental health crisis. I escaped my hometown but ended up homeless. Through many hospitalizations came many diagnoses: depression, anxiety, bipolar II, ADHD, opioid use disorder, and more. I desperately sought a label that would clarify what was wrong with me and provide a roadmap to "normalcy." After receiving a C-PTSD diagnosis, my struggles began to make sense to me. Of course I felt so unhinged. My environment was constantly re-traumatizing me. Over the years, I tried many medications, but in such a chaotic setting, I could never stick with any of them. Eventually I found someone who genuinely cared for me and did everything they could to help me heal. It took time, but we established a stable home where I felt safe. That stability finally allowed me to maintain consistent medication, creating the foundation for real healing to begin. Through the support group ‘Adult Children of Alcoholics', I discovered simple but transformative coping strategies. Morning gratitude journaling reframed my negative focus, meditation practices quelled my anxiety, and a yoga practice connected mind and body. Most importantly, I discovered the Internal Family Systems model, which helped me understand how childhood neglect had fractured my sense of self. For the first time, I was not just surviving. Life finally felt worth living. Eventually, I felt I had built up enough recovery capital to begin supporting my dually diagnosed peers. I dedicated myself to my studies and became certified as a Certified Peer Specialist (CPS). Drawing from the knowledge I gained through the Peer Specialist curriculum, I developed a small harm reduction and recovery initiative focused on LGBTQ+ individuals. We provided harm reduction supplies and anonymous online peer support. Helping queer teenagers understand that it truly does get better was a profound experience. By being there for them, I found healing for myself. My experience as a CPS gave me the confidence to pursue my dream of becoming a social worker. Pursuing an education has not been easy. My ADHD required me to devise a system that would keep me focused and engaged. There were moments when I struggled with coursework. That familiar, intrusive voice of self-doubt would creep in, urging me to give up. Instead, I leaned on my coping skills to fend off those thoughts. My first semester resulted in a 4.0 GPA, and I am on track to do the same this semester. These hard-won victories solidified my conviction that recovery is not just possible, but transferable. Speaking with peers who have more time in recovery has given me many pivotal realizations that reshaped how I view mental health, emphasizing systemic factors over individual blame. These moments accelerated my growth and deepened my belief in collective healing. My goal is to complete my education and build a career where I can help others have similar breakthroughs. I want to help them understand that they are not broken, the system around them is. Recognizing stigma and structural barriers empowers people to demand change and rediscover hope. With hope, anything is possible. I cannot wait to use my education to help others discover that hope within themselves. If I could find it, I know they can too.

Growing up in the shadows of addiction and neglect, I learned early on that resilience does not bloom in sunny comfort alone, but after rainstorms of adversity. The lack of a stable home left me feeling hollow. My mother spent night after night at the bar while I sat alone at home. Over time, I realized my life was vastly different from the other gifted children at school, and the emptiness inside me grew. Despite my intelligence, neglect left me unprepared to take care of myself. As an adult, my childhood trauma surfaced, and poverty loomed. My mental health deteriorated. I was diagnosed with ADHD, but my neurodivergence went unaddressed. I struggled to be around more than one or two people without being inebriated, leading to an inability to support myself. Unable to hold a job for more than two days and with no family able to help, I faced homelessness and turned to sex work as a last resort. I shook each time I awaited a client, praying he wouldn’t show. Opiates became my way to cope with fear and loneliness. I believed that no one could love someone who needed to sell sex to survive. I left my hometown to pursue my dream of living in New York. In Brooklyn, I felt less isolated, surrounded by a community of LGBTQ+ people I adored. I stayed off opiates for a while but eventually relapsed and became isolated. A documentary project about my life became my sole focus. The film did well in Europe, winning a prestigious award in France. I was immensely proud, yet I still felt withered inside. My emptiness grew even stronger when I found out my father was dying. For the first time since my teen years, my mom allowed me to stay with her to be near him. Losing my dad was the hardest thing I’ve faced. He was my only unconditional supporter, and his loss left a deep wound. Living with my mom again brought its own trauma. She was still an alcoholic, often starting fights when I asked for space. I had stopped sex work and opiates when I moved in, but the chaos pushed me back into both. Fortunately, I survived the relapse and committed to getting healthy through journaling, working out, and yoga. I met my partner shortly after my healing journey began. She was dedicated to growth, helping me to stop sex work and process my trauma. I decided to get completely sober and quit nicotine too. For the first time, I found clarity and learned to manage my emotions through self-care. An urge to share the joy of recovery with others took me over. I founded Queer Recovery + Harm Reduction, initially just providing Narcan and drug testing strips. It evolved into a service offering anonymous emergency contraceptives on-demand in Buffalo. We offered an online peer support service as well. Establishing that service motivated me to seek certification as a Peer Specialist. The coursework was incredibly engaging. Upon completing it and earning my certification, I realized I had more to learn. I intend to finish my Bachelor’s in Addiction Studies and pursue a master’s in social work to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker. This education will equip me with the knowledge and networks necessary to open my own drop-in center for individuals with dual diagnoses. We will facilitate group therapy sessions to support sex workers in healing from their trauma. I look forward to using my education to help empower others to make it through the storm. Through life’s downpours, we emerge stronger and ready for growth.