I grew up with a good background, a good family, and a good neighborhood. But I wanted adventure; I wanted to have fun. And with a father who was extremely controlling and didn’t show much affection, I craved freedom and love.
So, at 11 years old, I was already attracted to shiny things: motorcycles, bling, and boys. I met a 15-year-old guy in my neighborhood who became my first love. He was a partier and smoked weed. My 11-year-old self was like, ‘Ooh, if I do all those things, then he will love me. I did all those things, but also took it to another level.
By Junior high, I had started selling drugs. I was young and looked innocent, and I even got the nickname Angel, so I was helpful to those in the drug world. I could carry around my backpack filled with those pink heart-shaped pills and meth, and nobody would suspect me.
At school, however, people knew I wasn’t into anything good. My locker kept getting broken into, and my purse rummaged through. I first thought it was some kids, but then I found out it was the school. By 8th grade, I was asked not to come back.
So, I went to another school and would continue partying heavily and hitchhiking all over to do or sell drugs because I wasn’t old enough to drive. Whenever I considered breaking away from that world, those in charge didn’t want to let me go. I was making good money for them. Sometimes, I would find them hanging around my parents’ house as a warning. They scared me, and I knew I had to stick with it.
It was too late when my parents started noticing some of what I was doing with my life. My dad bought a bar in an area where I had sold drugs. After learning I knew many of the people who came in and out, he was concerned, especially because many of them were older guys, some of whom I dated or would date later. He and my mom would try to get help for me, but I was rebellious and
At some point when I was 14 or so, many bad things were happening in my circle. People were dying, getting caught, going to prison, and other things. I decided to get out, so I stole some money and left. I remember there was a gun to my head, and I said, “Do what you have to do.” Somehow, he let me walk out.
But after that, there were a lot of people looking for me. I told my best friend I was being followed, and one day, we were both picked up and taken to a house. We didn’t know where we were, but I recognized some people there and told my friend, “Whatever happens tonight, I’m so sorry.” I knew it wasn’t going to be good.
They held us there for hours. One of the guys even told his wife to get herself and the baby upstairs because things might get messy. At some point, I somehow created a distraction, which allowed my friend to call someone we knew. After that, they separated us, and I was extremely worried about what they would do to her.
Miraculously, there was a knock at the door, and our friend showed up with a group of well known people for backup. He basically demanded they let us go, and they did. When my best friend and I snuck back into my parent’s house at 4 AM, we could only hug each other and laugh. It was unbelievable that we had made it home and were still alive.
Not long after, my best friend found some better influences and changed schools. We remain friends to this day, but at that time, I was still doing the same shit. I got kicked out of high school again at 15 and didn’t tell my parents. Instead, I made a deal with my dad, if I could get my GED, I would go to college early. I did, but I would still be selling drugs to and from my way to my college classes. And I would continue to date guys who were much older than me and were in the drug world.
After I moved in with and a year later broke up with a 31-year-old guy who was abusive at the age of 17, I moved in with my cousin. I continued to party a lot and was still doing a ridiculous amount of meth. One night, when I came home, my cousin asked, “Have you looked at yourself lately?” I said, “I try not to.” She talked me into looking, and I didn’t even recognize myself. I looked like death. My cousin called my parents, and they nursed me back to health. They took me to the hospital, and I ended up having to get my kidneys drained. The doctor said I was very sick and on the verge of my body shutting down.
From there, I tried to get sober and walk more of a straight path. But it was so difficult with my old friends calling or visiting me to get me to party with them. I even started work at a furniture store, which I soon learned, was also meth infested. So I told my parents that I needed a bigger change.
I moved to Denver, Colorado, into a cousin’s house and started working at a preschool. I had no car so that I would walk to school. My living situation went badly quickly, so I moved in with a new friend who I had met recently through a friend from back in Cali. He had gotten out of prison a month or so ago and worked at a tire shop. He would drive me to and from work and was very kind to me, which was just what I needed at the time. However, I learned he had been doing some illegal activities, but I never really knew to what extent.
Long story short, Tony’s brother robbed the tire shop where he worked and ratted out his brothers’ behavior while in jail. The cops swarmed Tony’s house with cars and helicopters. My whole workplace was watching it, and I was so embarrassed.
Later, Tony called me and said he was putting together a plan to get out of prison since he was facing 50 years in one county and 30 in two other counties, and he asked me to meet up with a guy about it who would also pay for a hotel room for me to stay in because now I no longer had a place to live. I agreed to meet him.
He pumped drinks into me throughout the night, and I’m 19, so I was telling myself he wasn’t a cop because that was illegal. Then he took me to the room and had me talk to Tony on the phone. Everything was starting to seem staged and fishy. He takes me down to his car and shows me what they’re using to get Tony out: explosives and weapons. He tries to get me to touch them. I don’t. Then he decides to drive me to see Tony in jail the next day. Tony and I talk, and I tell him I don’t trust this guy and that I’m going to ditch him. Before we even left the jail, the cops swarmed us, and I knew. The guy was an undercover cop.
I’m almost 19 and go to jail. At first, I was looking at 16 to 32 years, but I realized this was only the case because they wanted me to turn on Tony and say he made me do a bunch of things so that they could get him for life. I refused. Sometime later, when Tony’s and my cases were broken up, they realized I wouldn’t turn on Tony or lie about what I’d done. I got just five years for conspiracy to aid and abet an escape.
Despite my arrest maybe not showing my true colors and actions, in all honesty, I needed to go to jail. I needed the biggest smackdown and wake-up call. No matter where I went, or moved to, I was still running in the same circles, and it was holding me back. Turns out you can’t run from yourself.
I remember my first morning in jail; I woke up for breakfast at 5:15 AM. I was not happy about it being so early, especially because I had just gotten to jail that night. I was exhausted as I ate at one of the picnic tables. Some girl walks up to me and says, “Do you want your jelly?” I’m like, “What?” Nothing was registering for me. “Do you want your jelly?” She points to the jelly on my tray that’s supposed to go with a biscuit. It was at that moment that I thought to myself: It’s 5:15 in the morning, I’m in jail, and these are the choices I made that got me here. I realized during that breakfast that I was in charge of my life. I had put myself in this position. Which meant I also had the power to make better choices for my life. That’s where the phrase Breakfast of Choices came from.
Over the next two and a half years, I worked on myself while in prison and helped other women within the empowerment program. I had some not-so-great days, too, but I was doing better.
I got paroled, and they tried to send me to a halfway house. I said no, I’m not going. They stuck me back in max in the prison. When I met with the parole board again about 8 months later, he asked me why I was here again. “Do you really want to know?” I said. “Yeah, I really do.” So I told him.
“I was in charge of the first 19 years of my life, and clearly that didn’t go well. Now you’ve had control of 2.5 of them, and I’ve been doing better. I want to change my life, but you were trying to take me out of here and send me right back to the middle of all the things I’m trying to get away from. I know some people at that halfway house.”
“So you’d rather stay in prison than take your chances going out in the middle of it again?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. And he respected that. He asked me if I was scared to go there. I said, hell yes, I’m scared to kill myself with drug use, and I don’t want that lifestyle anymore. He told me he was going to parole me straight out after finishing my full sentence, which they never do. I was released after 3.5 years in prison and began the climb out of the situation I had put myself in.
It was hard when I first got out. I still had no car and no driver’s license, no money, no clothes and no belongings. But I worked wherever I could, and I was being honest on my resume. However, I realized people were confused because my youth and unhardened looks didn’t match my application, so I started lying on them.
Despite not always going about it the right way, I slowly began to build my life up again. I got my license. I worked at a variety of jobs. One of them was a treatment center in the wing of a hospital for people who had had trauma, addictions, etc. It was a healing experience for me, even as an employee. I eventually went into sales and real estate, where your earning potential can continue to increase. It worked really well for me.
I learned to say NO to many choices and only say YES to the ones that would improve my life.
Were there still struggles? Of course. I had some really tough and abusive relationships and had to learn to keep my past a secret. However, I always knew I had the power to change my life through choice. My son will tell me before he leaves the house to “make good choices” because I’ve imparted this mantra to him.
So, this year, I’ve decided to take that mantra even further. I had been following Matthew McConaughey, Dean Graziosi & Tony Robbins’ program called Roadtrip – and one night, I was meditating on all I’d been learning. I realized I needed to actually start following my dreams and passions.
I’ve always helped people in recovery and wanted to do some sort of counseling, but I didn’t know what that could look like. I hired a growth and mindset coach, Brandi Gilstrap, and we worked together for three months. After that, I went back to school and obtained many certifications for life transformation coaching, group facilitating, recovery coaching, and several others.
And I started my podcast, “Breakfast of Choices”. I knew this was how I would not only reach people and hear authentic stories but also start sharing my story, something I had been afraid to do for years with people other than my close friends.
This season of my life has included a lot of unknowns, but it’s also exciting, and I know it’s my time. This choice has been one of the best ones I’ve made yet.
I took the 3 1/2 years that I was incarcerated to learn about myself and others, to learn mindset growth, healing, recovery, NA, counseling, and my faith in my higher power, and I went on to become a peer recovery support specialist, recovery/sobriety coach, and prison fellowship volunteer. I also started my Podcast, Breakfast of Choices, life stories of transformation from Rock Bottom to rock solid. I recently started a new career at a treatment center as the Group Facilitator. It is truly my purpose.
The opposite of addiction is connection. We are all in this together. Let’s get connected.
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