Tracy, 58
For Tracy, recovery was about finding her voice again and empowering others to find theirs.
“Life before recovery was survival,” she says. “Drugs, alcohol, and living that lifestyle was really hard on my head. I had lost my family, children, and friends. I had no house, car, or job, and was facing 15 years to life in prison.”
Things shifted in 2001, when Tracy stood before a judge facing her sentence. “For whatever reason, this judge saw something in me and decided to give me just one more chance,” she recalls. At the same time, Tracy learned her oldest son had begun struggling with substance use. “That became a major turning point for me,” she says. “I knew I couldn’t keep repeating the cycle. I had to try again. Not just for me, but for my children.”
Though Tracy had sought help before, staying in recovery was a challenge. “I would maintain a little bit of recovery time, and then slip back into it,” she shares. Starting over meant facing fear and learning to ask for help. “I had spent so long believing my voice didn’t matter, so reaching out didn’t come naturally,” she says. “But they just told me to keep coming back to meetings, and I did.”
One of Tracy’s proudest moments came after an unimaginable loss. When her oldest son passed away in 2010, she feared losing her daughter and youngest son as well. “That kind of loss could have taken me in a very different direction,” she shares. “But I made the choice to stay in recovery. I kept showing up and using my voice.”
Later, when Tracy’s daughter sought recovery, she was able to turn to her mom for support. “I’ve been able to walk beside my daughter on her own recovery journey,” Tracy says. “That is one of my deepest points of pride.”
After more than two decades free from substance use, Tracy has turned her passion for helping others into a future. She works as a recovery coach and program manager at Peer 360, where she advocates for people in recovery (especially rural communities) and educates about Narcan and harm reduction. “I get to be a voice for the voiceless,” she says.
Tracy also finds joy in the smaller moments, like baking with her grandchildren and taking walks in nature. “Feeling the wind blowing on my skin, that’s something I took for granted before recovery,” she says.
“I love the woman I see in the mirror today: someone who is worthy, strong, and no longer afraid to use her voice,” she shares. “I own a house and a car. I have my mother, children, and grandchildren around. It's a beautiful life, and I’ve achieved way more than I ever, ever dreamed I could.”
“I love the woman I see in the mirror today: someone who is worthy, strong, and no longer afraid to use her voice.”
To those considering recovery, Tracy recommends finding support, wherever you may be. “You are not alone,” she says. “No matter where you live — whether it’s a big city, a small town, or in a cornfield somewhere — help is available.”