Becoming an addict was never my intention. I certainly didn't want to become a 15-year-old alcoholic or a 25-year-old junkie. I envisioned a life of greatness for myself, but along the way, I let trauma become a gateway drug and used it as a license for self-destruction. Trying to escape my reality, my life inevitably imploded - an experience I am surprisingly grateful for. The last night I drank, I planned to attend a party sober for the first time. As I was heading out the door, I noticed a beer in my hand, cracked open, effervescent bubbles breaking along the silver top. Without much thought, I rationalized that if I drink on the way to the party, I'm not drinking at the party. This logic satisfied my compulsion, and off I went. Herein lies the pattern that had become my normal routine - chasing a high that always eluded me. There was never enough coke to make a night last forever, never enough alcohol to make the memories fade. The cycle of trying to run from pain only brought more suffering. A twisted dance I never did find the steps to. The following days brought the despair of what my life had become. Reflecting on the struggles of the past decade; the hurt, the drugs, the things I said I would never do but I did, jobs lost, opportunities squandered, all the years wasted on getting wasted, looking for a way out. At some point along the way, trying to run away from myself only allowed me to lose control. Unhappy and unfulfilled, the unmanageability of my life finally provided me the humility to conceptualize my reality. I wasn't where I wanted to be, who I knew I could be, but I knew of people who might have some answers. I attended my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting on May 20th, 2019. When asked if there were any newcomers, I raised my hand, trembling and unsure of what to say. I introduced myself and admitted I needed help. The reassurance of a stranger, "We'll take care of you, kid," provided me a feeling in my bones that I was in the right place at the right time. I embraced the spirit of hope that permeated those rooms. I immersed myself in the recovery community, attended meetings regularly, found a sponsor, and worked the steps diligently. Eventually, I became a sponsor to other women in need. Sobriety saved my life and gave me a chance to rebuild it. In those church basements, I found a partner who embodies everything I never thought I was worthy of. We built a life rooted in the foundation of recovery. In 2021, we welcomed a baby girl into the world, and I take pride in knowing that our daughter will grow up in a home filled with the love and happiness that every child deserves. Now, I am determined to use my experience to help others. Furthering my education will enable me to make a difference through public policy. I believe we can change how society views addiction, prevention, and recovery to save people from this disease. The current statistics of relapse and death are disheartening, indicating that we need a new approach. Armed with lived experience and a degree, I aspire to address the gaps in our current structure and implement meaningful policies that can save lives. I strive to use my experiences to contribute to a better future where addiction is met with understanding and effective support. With an education, I know I can be a powerful force for positive change.