Crack Pipes, Court Dates & Comebacks: 18 Years of Sobriety & a Dream Life Later

No one sets out to become a junkie. When I was a child, it definitely wasn’t on my list of aspirations — but there I was at 25 years old, fully addicted to crack cocaine and intravenous heroin.

Now, to back up a bit, I had a normal-ish life. My parents separated when I was about 6 or 7. My mom and I moved across town, and by the time I was 10, my stepfather and sister had moved in with us. I was a below-average student, but I did (barely) graduate high school. I was a good kid… basically. I definitely smoked cigarettes and chased boys way too young, and I’d had a drink maybe twice in my teen years. Otherwise? Good kid. Mostly.

I moved out of my family’s home just before my 19th birthday. I had a job as the youngest employee at a well-known company. I owned a car, had a fully furnished apartment, a cell phone (which was a big deal in the year 2000), and even a credit card.

But by 25, I had been evicted twice, arrested a handful of times, and lost my job, my car, my license — basically everything I had managed to build in those early years. I was in full-blown crisis when I called my mother in the middle of the night, begging for help because the man I had been with for the last 5 years had threatened my life with a knife. I had changed my number and disappeared — I hadn’t really spoken to my family in months. But through my mother’s urgency (and let’s be honest — her refusal to give up on me), I started attending a 12-step program.

It still took another six months before I actually got sober.

Today, I celebrate 18 years of continuous sobriety. In that time, I’ve built the life of my dreams. I’m married to my best friend and favorite person. We have three wild, sweet, hysterically funny kids. I run a successful business doing what I love — helping people heal, grow, and remember who the hell they are. And just over six months ago, I bought my dream home.

I share this to remind anyone who needs to hear it: it’s never too late. While all my friends were getting married and having babies, I was cleaning up a criminal record and living back at home with my parents. I was once broken, buried, and barely breathing. Now I’m living life second to none - a life I never thought I’d live. Your rock bottom isn’t the end — it might just be the beginning of your comeback. If I can claw my way out and build a life that lights me up — then so. can. you. Don’t wait for perfect. Start messy. Start scared. Just start. And while you’re sitting there doubting if you can, I’m living proof that you absolutely freakin’ can. Let this be your sign — it’s go time.