Both of my parents struggled with addiction, and I lost them to it. My father passed away from an overdose when I was just three years old. Two years ago, I lost my mother in the same tragic way. Addiction didn’t just surround my life; it infected it from the beginning. By the age of sixteen, while other teenagers were planning for prom and preparing for college applications, I had already dropped out of high school and was entirely consumed by a crippling addiction. After years of self-destruction, I was arrested, which ultimately saved my life. Incarceration removed me from the chaos long enough to begin healing. After being released, I checked myself into a treatment program for three months and then completed a year of drug court that included mandatory drug testing and weekly group therapy. During this time, I got honest with myself and began doing the deep work that recovery requires. I found the clarity to choose a different path through structure, accountability, and peer support. Through this process, I was committed to staying clean. I signed up for therapy. I spent years working on my emotional and physical health, rebuilding from the ground up. At twenty-nine, I earned my GED. That small piece of paper represented something bigger than education; it symbolized self-worth, perseverance, and possibility. Now, eight years sober, I’m a college student pursuing a degree in Social Work, working full time, and walking toward a life with purpose. Getting here took forgiveness, therapy, and an unwavering commitment to change every single day. The decision to pursue a career in mental health wasn’t made lightly; it was born from lived experience and a calling after being lucky to survive. I know what it feels like to want to give up or not start in the first place. I understand how mental illness, addiction, and trauma can cloud every decision, goal, and relationship. But I also know how life-changing it is when someone shows up and says, “You are worthy and capable of anything.” My goal is to become a licensed clinical social worker specializing in addiction, trauma, and women’s mental health. I’ve supported others in recovery, led peer groups, and mentored women transitioning into sobriety. These moments have shown me how powerful connection and understanding can be. I want to be the someone I once needed, who listens, holds space, and reminds others of their worth. Mental health challenges can make pursuing education feel impossible—I’ve lived that truth. However, with the proper support and inner resilience, healing becomes a foundation rather than a barrier. I believe everyone deserves that chance, and through this career, I intend to spend my life helping others find it.

Growing up in a world that often sees women as objects rather than whole people left deep marks on me that are not easily erased. Being sexualized at a young age, harassed in public spaces, and overlooked in moments when protection or support was needed shaped a quiet determination to one day create something different, not just for myself, but for every woman who’s ever felt unsafe, unseen, or silenced. The path to healing began in 2017, when sobriety became not just a decision, but a lifeline. That choice started a new chapter defined by growth, self-respect, and purpose. Sobriety opened the door to therapy, movement, education, and a reconnection to self. Wellness became a daily commitment, not just a goal. Over time, routines turned into rituals of care, and survival turned into forward motion. May 2025 marked eight years free from addiction, and each year has been built on resilience and an unwavering desire to rewrite the story. Pursuing a degree in Social Work isn’t about earning a title; it’s about becoming a changemaker. Education is one piece of a larger mission: to create spaces where women feel safe in their bodies, stories, and futures. Too many carry wounds they never asked for, navigating systems that weren’t built with their healing in mind. The goal is to help transform those systems to meet women where they are, support their growth, and challenge the conditions that keep them in survival mode. Work and school now fill the days, and each assignment, shift, and study session is a brick in the foundation of something much bigger. Even when it’s exhausting, it’s purposeful. It’s proof that rebuilding is possible. The vision is clear: to serve women impacted by trauma, addiction, and mental health struggles, and to build programs rooted in community, empowerment, and safety. Real healing happens when women feel seen, believed, and supported. That’s the future being built one relationship, one safe space, one act of advocacy at a time. There is also a long-term commitment to policy and systems-level change. While direct work with individuals is vital, lasting transformation comes from shifting the environments that perpetuate harm. This means continuing education beyond the bachelor’s level, working toward a master’s degree or higher, and taking on leadership roles in community advocacy and social justice. The past will always be part of the story, but it no longer holds the pen. What drives this journey now is the belief that women deserve more safety, opportunities, and love without conditions. The work ahead is challenging, but so is change. And change is exactly what this life is committed to creating.

Some might say I wasn’t supposed to make it, but I did. And now I’m building a life that helps others do the same. My journey hasn’t been traditional, but it’s been intentional. Each choice I’ve made getting sober, going back to school, and committing to my mental and physical health has been a step toward creating a life rooted in purpose. I’m not just pursuing a degree in Social Work for the sake of a career; I’m pursuing it because I know what it means to need support and the power of having someone show up when it matters most. In May 2025, I celebrated eight years of sobriety. That milestone represents a personal revolution that began when I stepped out of survival mode and into long-term healing. From that point forward, everything changed. I enrolled in therapy to confront my past and learn emotional tools I was never taught. I joined a gym and focused on healing my body as much as my mind. I started eating to fuel my life rather than numb it. These weren’t easy changes, but they were necessary. Slowly, I began to rebuild not just my health, but my self-worth. Returning to school as a full-time employee in my 30s hasn’t been difficult. There are late nights, financial worries, and moments of doubt. But there’s also a fire inside me that won’t go out. I’m determined to become a licensed social worker and eventually earn at least a master’s degree if not a doctorate. I want to dedicate my life to helping others break generational cycles of trauma, addiction, and hopelessness. I want to work with people who feel invisible and remind them they are worthy of care, compassion, and possibility. My ultimate goal is to combine clinical social work with community engagement. I envision creating programs that serve individuals and entire communities, particularly safe spaces for people to heal together, support one another, and grow into their power. I know how isolating pain can be, and I also know how healing it is to be witnessed by others who understand. I want to build spaces that offer both. This path has not been easy. I’ve had to fight for every bit of stability and success I now have. But I wake up every day with gratitude and grit, knowing that what I’m building will serve others in ways I once needed myself. With support, I can continue transforming pain into purpose and helping others do the same.

Prioritizing my mental, emotional, and physical health has been one of the most transformative decisions of my life. While my past included struggles with addiction and loss, what truly defines me today is the healing I’ve chosen and the wellness-centered life I’ve built step by step, from the inside out. When I first got sober, I knew that staying clean would require more than just abstinence. I needed to rebuild myself holistically. That meant starting therapy to unpack years of trauma and emotional suppression. Through counseling, I began learning to set boundaries, regulate emotions, and understand myself with compassion instead of judgment. It was the first time I felt like I had the tools to manage my life healthily and sustainably. Alongside therapy, I joined a gym and hired a personal trainer. Physical movement became more than a fitness goal; it was an act of self-respect. Strength training helped me reconnect with my body while improving my energy, confidence, and discipline. I learned how exercise can directly support emotional and mental clarity, especially when dealing with stress or self-doubt. Wanting to deepen my understanding, I enrolled in a life and health coaching certification program. That course changed everything. I learned about meal timing, how nutrition impacts mood and performance, and how to build goals based on values rather than perfectionism. Positive psychology taught me to shift my mindset from “What’s wrong with me?” to “What’s working, and how can I build on it?” These concepts gave me fundamental, applicable skills I use every day. Now, wellness is the foundation of my life. I plan my meals for energy and stability, move my body with intention, reflect through journaling and mindfulness, and, most importantly, check in with myself mentally, emotionally, and physically to stay aligned. These habits don’t just help me function; they help me thrive. This commitment to wellness has completely reshaped how I prepare for my future. As a psychology student, I approach my education through the lens of holistic care. True healing requires addressing all parts of a person, including the emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual. Whether writing a paper or volunteering in my community, I do so with the awareness that health is the gateway to possibility. In the future, I plan to bring this whole-person approach into my career as a therapist. I want to guide others in reconnecting with themselves, building self-trust, and creating lives rooted in wellbeing. I know from experience that change is possible, and I want to be part of that change for others. Choosing wellness was the turning point that gave me back my life. Today, everything I do is guided by that choice, which continues to shape who I am and who I’m becoming.

Books have been one of my life's most consistent sources of comfort, growth, and transformation. At times when I felt utterly alone, they gave me a place to belong. They offered not only escape, but also an understanding and, perhaps most importantly, hope. From the pages of dystopian novels to the intimacy of romance, each book has shaped how I see the world, myself, and what I believe I can achieve. My love for dystopian stories like 1984 by George Orwell stems from their ability to make me question everything: power, truth, freedom, and the structure of society. Books in this genre challenged me to think critically and look beyond the surface of what I’m told. They’ve made me deeply aware of how systems fail the most vulnerable and instilled in me a responsibility to question injustice and be a part of something better. Injustice that lives in books, but is inspired by real-world problems, is a huge reason I was drawn to the field of social work. I want to help change the systems that keep people stuck in cycles of pain and poverty. I also find strength in stories where the underdog wins. In Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros, Violet begins as what others see as the weakest character: small, fragile, and underestimated. But her intelligence, determination, and resilience turn her into one of the most potent forces in the story. That narrative resonates with me deeply. I spent much of my early life being seen as weak, broken, or lost due to addiction and trauma. But like Violet, I’ve learned that resilience and intellect are often born in the fire of adversity. These stories have taught me that the labels society puts on us don’t define us; we get to write our stories. Then there are books like The Ravenhood series by Kate Stewart, which masterfully blends romance and suspense while exploring themes of justice, loyalty, and redemption. What drew me in wasn’t just the mystery or the love story. No, the Ravens’ mission was to protect their community and fight for a safer, more just world. That mission aligns with my own goals. I want to be a part of something bigger than myself, where my work impacts more than just individuals, it ripples out into families, neighborhoods, and future generations. Books have healed me in many ways. They’ve given me words when I couldn’t find my own. They’ve helped me process my grief, trauma, and transformation. They’ve taught me to dream again and reminded me that healing is possible not just for me, but for anyone willing to fight for it. In many ways, reading saved me before I could save myself. Today, I’m on a path to becoming a social worker, not just because of my past, but because of the vision I now carry for the future, one where empathy, advocacy, and education lives. The stories I’ve read have shaped that vision. They’ve taught me to think critically, feel deeply, and believe fiercely in the good we can do for others. Like the characters I admire, I intend to stand for something meaningful and leave behind a story worth telling.

To experience addiction through the outside looking in was nothing compared to walking through fire myself. At the age of three, my father lost his battle with his demons, and now, two years ago, my mother also overdosed. I wish I could say I didn't follow in their footsteps, but I never could learn without touching the stove. By the age of sixteen, I dropped out of high school because I was fully submersed in a crippling addiction. That run lasted nine long years, which felt like an entire life in hell. Every single day, I wanted to crawl out of my own body. A progression of horror led me to be homeless, hopeless, and with a deteriorating body. Somedays, it isn't fathomable how one could still be alive when I reflect on those times. Every time I thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. The dark side chewed me up, pimped me out, and spit me out like I was nothing. Yet I kept on. On my last day out, a friend and I lived in a parked crashed car, praying for a better way. The promise I made still rings true today. While I looked up into the sky, I said, “If you help me with the physical pain to get sober, I will stick with it.” An hour later, my freedom was ripped away from me by the local sheriff's department. The universe provided what was prayed for and detoxed me fully, which helped with the physical sickness. Two weeks into my incarceration, a drug treatment program was the perfect place for me. The program provided meetings, lessons on what was happening chemically, and peer support. By the time I was released after a month, there was no other option than to stick with it. Within twenty-four hours, I checked myself into a local state-run treatment center for three months because I still couldn't trust my thoughts. After fully completing the program, I still had to answer to the state, which granted me one year of drug court with mandatory drug testing and weekly groups. I genuinely believe everything was meant to happen in the order it did. Being ripped away from society and forced to be sober for some time saved my life. Granted, I could have gone back any time, but the reality is I never experienced life sober since, by my teenage years, I was already drowning. I completed drug court successfully, worked my steps, and became a role model to others. Today, after eight years of sobriety, my solution looks different from those in the traditional pathway. My solution is spirituality and the neverending pursuit of growth. I obtained my GED at twenty-nine, which led to me signing up for college. At the end of 2026, I will have an associate's degree with a goal to transfer to my local university through the social work pathway. Being a therapist will allow me to help others break the chains that hold them back from believing in themselves. My existence is a gift meant to prove that healing is possible, and I want to dedicate my life to showing others the way forward. Thank you for considering my story and my dream.

Recovery means life. Sobriety means freedom. I followed both of my parents into addiction from a very young age. My father overdosed when I was 3 years old and my mother recently overdosed in November of 2022. I traveled down the rabbit hole and into chaos from the age of 16, till I was 26. I found myself desperate, coldhearted, hungry, homeless and hopeless. On the last day of my decade-long binge, I looked up to the sky and prayed to God for help with the physical toll it would take to get clean. I promised that I would stay sober if my physical suffering was somehow lessened. A few hours later I was put into handcuffs and removed from society, in which I was lucky enough that they detoxed me. When I was released, I stayed in a 90-day rehab, got a sponsor, worked my steps, went to meetings and started to build this new life that I had never experienced before. Recovery and sobriety is the most precious gift this life has ever given to me. After dropping out at 16, I have finally found the confidence to enroll in college. Today I work a full-time job, take care of my body, nourish my mind, and I am capable of being there for the ones I love. Without recovery, I would more than likely be dead. My major will be psychology, where I aim to inspire as many souls as possible through my life experience. Thank you.