Post 18 ~ Part 4 - The summer I started becoming me

Mar 25
4 min read

Updated: Mar 29

Now, when I was told I would need to change everything, trust and believe that part didn’t come easy. I was the girl nobody could tell what to do.

I remember people always saying I’d eventually calm down, that I wouldn’t always be so loud.

But let me explain something… I’ve always been loud.

Picture a big Italian family. Multiple siblings. Everyone is talking over each other. That was my normal. I had an attitude for days, and I wasn’t easily intimidated. My whole life, people told me to tone it down, to take it down a level. And to this day, I still feel something in me push back when someone says that.

So, when people in recovery told me I would change, that I would soften, it hit the same nerve. I was quick to say, “I will always be who I am. Loud. Crazy. Take it or leave it.”

The truth?

I had no idea who I was without drugs, the streets, and chaos.

And whether I liked it or not… I was about to find out.

Within a few days of getting to Judy’s, I got a job at a contact center called Qualfon. I couldn’t even believe it. I got a job. I didn’t care that it was minimum wage. It was a job.

I started going to meetings right away, and it didn’t take long to realize I had found my people in the evening 12-step meetings. That’s where I met Lisa.

And let me clear something up, these meetings weren’t what I expected. Nobody sat around bragging about what they used or how much they did. Instead, I heard people talk about real life. Kids. Grief. Love. Loss. Happiness. And somehow… they were doing all of it without using.

That alone blew my mind.

People cried openly, as if it were normal. Like it was safe, that was something I didn’t understand yet.

Then there was Wendy. She would start talking about how mad or stressed she was, and every single time it ended in tears. I still give her a hard time about it to this day.

But slowly, something shifted.

I started meeting people who felt like me. People who understood me. People who would soon become permanent in my life, even though I had no idea at the time.

That summer… it was the best summer I had ever had.

I worked. I went to meetings. I spent days at the lake. And for the first time in a long time, I had fun, and I actually remembered it.

I built real relationships with women who were loyal and had integrity. Things I never had when I was using.

I decided I wanted a sponsor nearby since I didn’t have a car. I talked to Kristina, and she agreed it was a good idea. So, I called Mama and asked her to sponsor me. She said yes.

But even with all the good happening… There was still pain.

I didn’t have much communication with my kids. Hunter would let me call, but he wouldn’t say a word. It broke my heart every single time.

I had to learn something hard; just because I was doing better didn’t mean the damage disappeared. I had left behind destruction, betrayal, and abandonment. Forgiveness wasn’t mine to demand. It would take time… if it came at all.

Then August 17th came.

I was at Lisa’s campsite, my best friend. It was Hunter’s birthday. I called, expecting silence. Still… I sang him happy birthday. And then… he said it.

“Mom, I love you.”

Tears filled my eyes. “I love you too.”

We hung up, and I was on cloud nine. My baby was talking to me again.

And suddenly… I understood why people cried in those meetings.

Later, some of Lisa’s husband’s friends stopped by. I told them he wasn’t there. I talked… okay, flirted with one of them. His name was Shooter.

Then they left, and that was that.

That summer, I was still a little boy crazy. I dated all the wrong guys. One of them treated me so badly that it finally clicked; I didn’t want that kind of life anymore.

With some guidance from Mama, I started doing the real work. Looking inward. Finding my worth.

I made a list of what I wanted in a man:Someone who prioritized recovery.Someone who had a job.Someone who treated me right.Someone who could make me laugh.

Fall came, and this L.A. girl got her first real taste of what cold actually feels like.

One night at a meeting, my grand-sponsor and her sponsee showed up. She was celebrating 20 years clean. I remember thinking, That seems impossible.

And then right after… I thought, I want that.

They invited me to her celebration, and I went. There was food, music, and dancing. Snow is falling outside. It was one of those nights you wish you could freeze in time.

And then, in the middle of it all… I saw him.

Shooter.

We locked eyes. Started talking. Okay… flirting again.

We stepped outside at the same time. He suggested we sit in his Bronco to get out of the snow. We talked about Lisa, about life. It was easy. Too easy.

But in the back of my mind, I remembered the promise I made to myself.

I had a standard now.

I had a list.

So when he asked me out to play pool, I held back. I told him maybe another night.

He texted me later to make sure I got home.

Then he asked, “Do you want to go to the 10 a.m. meeting tomorrow?”

And just like that, something in me paused.

Because one thing on my list stood out more than anything else…

Someone who takes recovery as seriously as I do.

I said yes.

He said he’d pick me up early so we could grab coffee first.

And as I sat there that night, staring at my phone, one thought kept running through my mind: