My name is Lauren, and my sobriety date is July 13, 2021.

I was born and raised in Fayette County and had a wonderful childhood with loving parents who ensured I never went without. My dad, a nurse, often worked multiple jobs, while my mom stayed home to care for me and my older brother.

Everything changed when I was 12. One morning, my dad dropped me off at school like he always did, telling me he loved me before driving away. But that day, he never made it to work—he was found later, having died by suicide. Our entire family dynamic shifted, and I felt like I had to grow up overnight. Despite this, my mom stepped up in incredible ways, ensuring we were cared for. I played sports, graduated high school with honors, and moved to Morgantown to attend West Virginia University.

Two years into college, my mom suffered a major heart attack and required surgery. Without hesitation, I dropped everything to move back home and support her. Not long after, I met the man who would become my estranged husband. Our relationship was a whirlwind, and within a year, I found out I was pregnant. While the news was shocking, I was also overjoyed—until I lost my baby at full term. It was one of the most devastating moments of my life.

In the aftermath of that loss, I was introduced to drugs and alcohol, and my life quickly spiraled. Within what felt like months, I lost everything—my car, my apartment, my job, and, most importantly, myself. My world grew darker, and I eventually found myself homeless, living in a tin garage.

A friend who had graduated from Recovery Point Charleston (RPC) encouraged me to consider treatment. One night, after a fight with my husband, I told her I would go—but when she arrived to take me, I panicked and ran. She chased me through town until she caught me, loaded me into her car, and took me to RPC. At first, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay, but desperation and the hope for something better convinced me to try.

Recovery wasn’t easy. At times, I had to take it hour by hour, even smoke break by smoke break. But the women at RPC showed me true friendship—they loved me when I couldn’t love myself. Slowly, I regained confidence, self-esteem, and a connection with my higher power. That’s when my life truly started to change.

While serving as a Peer Mentor, I connected with someone from Ascension Recovery Services. They were looking for someone to move to Uniontown, PA, to help open a new sober living facility. The idea of applying terrified me, but something—my higher power—whispered, You could go back to school. So, I took the leap. I applied, got the job, and the same day I graduated RPC, I moved to Uniontown to start the next chapter of my life.

Arriving in an empty house in a new city was overwhelming. I knew no one and had no idea what to do. But I relied on the tools I had learned in recovery—I found meetings and walked to them daily until I built a support system.

A few months later, I was offered another opportunity—to move to Laconia, New Hampshire. The thought alone terrified me, and at first, I declined. But after some deep self-reflection, I knew I had to do what was best for me. I packed everything I could into two duffel bags, got on an airplane for the first time, and moved to NH.

When my taxi pulled up in front of the women’s sober living house, the driver asked if this was my destination. All I could say was, I don’t know—because I truly didn’t. But I hit the ground running, immersing myself in the recovery community. I helped open three sober living homes and lived on-site as a house manager for 18 months. During this time, I also enrolled at Southern New Hampshire University, determined to finish my bachelor’s degree in psychology with a concentration in Addiction Studies.

After 18 months, I was promoted to Community Liaison for Kathy Ireland Recovery Centers. I oversaw all three sober living homes, handled admissions counseling for the outpatient clinic, and provided case management support. While working in this role, I graduated from SNHU with honors, earning my bachelor’s degree.

As I planned my future, I reflected on a valuable lesson: To truly help others, I had to prioritize my own happiness and well-being. That realization led me to accept a new job as a Behavioral Health Care Manager at a primary care facility in Southwest Virginia. This time, I packed everything into my car—because I had also regained my driver’s license and bought a reliable vehicle—and drove from NH to VA to begin another chapter.

Since moving to Southwest Virginia, I’ve settled into my role, where I conduct exam-room consults, perform anxiety and depression screenings, make appropriate referrals, and provide patients with the guidance they need. I’ve also been accepted into the University of Tennessee, where I will begin my master’s in social work this August.

I’ve built a life I’m proud of. I am an active member of the recovery community, serving as the elected GSR for my home group. I recently moved into my own apartment and am living independently for the first time in my life—something that once felt impossible.

Everything I have today was once a desperate prayer. I sponsor others in recovery and strive to be the person I needed when I was struggling. And above all, I will never forget that we cannot truly help others unless we first help ourselves.