Hey! So Glad You're Here.
My Story
For as long as I can remember, I’ve carried both light and shadows inside me. I was raised in a deeply religious home, where faith was the center of everything. But beneath the surface of that life were wounds I didn’t yet have words for. Childhood trauma left marks that I couldn’t see but could always feel—and for years, I tried to push them away instead of facing them.
I spent over two decades working in the medical field, pouring myself into helping others. From the outside, I looked strong, capable, and put together. Wearing masks became my armor. But inside, I was carrying a weight that grew heavier with time.
In my 30s, alcohol became the place I turned when the pain felt too big, too sharp, too overwhelming. At first, it felt like relief. A way to breathe. A way to forget. A way to numb.
But slowly, it became a prison.
Addiction is quiet at first. It creeps in, little by little, until one day you wake up and realize you’ve lost yourself. That’s where I found myself—trapped, ashamed, and questioning if I’d ever feel whole again. My relationships started to suffer. I felt defeated.
But God wasn’t done with me. Deep down, I still had a spark of hope, even when I couldn’t see it. With faith, courage, and the support of people who believed in me even when I couldn’t believe in myself, I made the decision to fight for my life.
Choosing sobriety was the hardest and bravest thing I have ever done. There were days I didn’t know if I could keep going, but little by little, I did. Healing came slowly, painfully, but beautifully.
Sobriety didn’t just free me from alcohol—it gave me back my soul. It restored broken relationships I thought were lost forever. It allowed me to forgive, to let go, and to finally see myself as more than my past. And in the middle of this journey, God gave me one of the greatest gifts of all: LOVE.
I recently married the man who has shown me grace in its truest form. His love is steady, unconditional, and a reminder every day that I am worthy of being fully seen and fully loved.
Today, I live with a heart full of gratitude. I’ve co-parented, and raised my children into incredible people, and now I get to step into this new season of life with joy, purpose, and peace I never believed I would feel again.
This is why I write. Not because my story is perfect—but because it’s real. Because someone out there needs to know that no matter how far you’ve fallen, you CAN rise.
Healing is possible. Joy is possible. A brand-new chapter is always waiting.
Addiction will always be part of my story, but it does not define me. What defines me is grace, healing, and the choice—every single day—to live free.