The scars on our bodies are a funny and sometimes tragic form of topography. They often cryptically reveal the sports we played, the surgeries we’ve had, the lives we’ve lived, and the work we’ve done. If we take a moment to look at my hands, I can show you the aging burn marks from working as a line cook, or punctures from using box cutters at warehouse jobs. These accidental etchings tell the story of my non-academic career path, which is an amalgamation of self -limiting fear and a strong work ethic. They will also tell you that I was a teenage drug addict. I have had many barriers to academic success including learning disabilities, trauma, and addiction issues from a young age. The messaging I interpreted from teachers, peers, and community members is that I’m incapable of meaningful work and academia. At the age of 17, I quit high school to join the workforce, taking minimum wage jobs and learning the art of the hustle. Against all odds,- I made the decision to get sober at the age of 20 and worked actively with others to recover from my disease. That same year, I learned about the career path of substance abuse counseling and vowed to begin school to pursue this certification so that I can continue to help others. The intimidating cost of tuition, combined with the fear of failure, led me to back away from this dream and into less than fulfilling work. Nevertheless, I gained the incredibly useful tools of perseverance, personal growth, recovery, and success despite my learning disabilities. I started my own business at 26, where I taught myself valuable skills and gained confidence in my ability to make things happen through dedication and hard work. Now at age 33 with 13 years of sobriety, I have an overwhelming drive to return to the original goal of helping others recover in a professional setting. I have spent over a decade working in an altruistic capacity with addicts and alcoholics to help them get their lives back. All the experience I’ve gained through sponsorship, hard work, and moving through adversities has prepared me to achieve this goal. I am going to college to pursue my certification to be a drug and alcohol counselor with the long-term goal of achieving a Master of Social Work degree, because I truly believe I’m uniquely qualified to help others. My intention is to work in a therapeutic capacity with adolescents facing dual diagnosis. The population of teenagers and young people dying of accidental overdose is growing rapidly. The rehabilitation industry needs people like me who have lived experience navigating the same issues faced by young people struggling with addiction and mental health. To make this dream a reality, I will need financial support from individuals and institutions that believe in the underdog. I will be attending school full time while taking on odd jobs for extra income. Receiving scholarships will allow me to support myself while I work towards helping others break free from the destructive cycle of addiction.

To be born into a world that isn’t not ready for you is a harrowing experience, whether it’s a fact or a feeling is irrelevant. I faced many challenges through childhood including being transgender, ADHD, PTSD, depression, and generalized anxiety. There was a myriad of issues that I was unable to address for safety reasons or because I simply did not have to vocabulary to explain what I was going through. The topic of mental health was taboo in my neighborhood. The pain that I experienced in keeping my own secrets as an eleven-year-old manifested in my body and soon I was experiencing psychosomatic illness and severe stomach aches. Acting out was the only thing that gave me temporary release from the pressure, so like countless others, I started experimenting with drugs and self-harm. There went a vicious cycle of recklessness with shame to follow, only to be alleviated by more chaotic choices. I’ll never forget the day I had the first panic attack; it happened in freshman English class and the whole class witnessed me hyperventilate with glassy eyes full of fear. Humiliation was only one of the emotions at play, the other was freedom. The anxiety and depression cards were on the table, I was finally able to be honest with about some of the issues that I was facing, and I started receiving treatment in the form of medication, clinical support, and accommodations in school. To this day at thirty-three, my mental health ebbs and flows, but have picked up many tools on this journey to cope and live a healthy life. Since that first panic attack, I have found solutions to not only the symptoms, but the underlying issues that put me in fear. I’ve been sober in recovery from addiction for thirteen years, I’ve been in medical gender transition for nine years, and see a therapist weekly. Finding support from a community where the stigma of mental illness is unpacked and addressed has also been integral. Candidly sharing my story while working with others in recovery has been one of the ways that I raise awareness for mental health. Sharing the tools that I have been so freely given is one of the most fulfilling aspects of my life. Self-limiting fear has caused me to deprive myself of higher education for fifteen years, but this year I have found the courage to challenge it. I am going to college to pursue my certification to be a drug and alcohol counselor with a long-term goal of achieving a Master of Social Work, because I’m uniquely qualified to help others. My intention is to work in a therapeutic capacity with adolescents facing dual diagnosis. There is a significant shortage of transgender professionals in recovery spaces while the population of LGBTQ+ people struggling with addiction is growing disproportionately. The rehabilitation industry needs professionals who have firsthand experience navigating both the issues that members of the trans community face as well as recovery from substance abuse. Receiving this scholarship will allow me the support needed while I train to best serve the community and pay it forward.

The touchstone of recovery is willingness matched with honesty. Today I am a grateful transgender addict with 13 years sober, but back then I was an ashamed teenager, abusing opioids. Rejection from peers based on my gender expression created painful negative core beliefs, so I managed my relationship to reality by getting high and tuning the world out. I felt so deeply uncomfortable in my skin that I couldn’t go to school sober, and eventually I faced serious consequences. I knew that if I kept using drugs with reckless abandon, it would be fatal. By the grace of God, I was taken to my first 12-step meeting at 15 and was inspired by the hope in that room. I gained some time, but didn’t do the work to treat my underlying symptoms and eventually relapsed. At 20, I finally found willingness to take suggestions and work the steps. My recovery community raised me and taught me how to be accountable, honest, and hard working. I am going to college to pursue my certification to be a drug and alcohol counselor, because I’m uniquely qualified to help others. There is a significant shortage of transgender professionals in recovery spaces while the population of LGBT people facing addiction is growing disproportionately. The rehabilitation industry needs people like me who have firsthand experience navigating both the issues that members of the trans community face as well as recovery from substance abuse. Recovery is when survival meets healing through honesty, service, willingness, and hope.