For much of my life, I believed that vulnerability meant weakness. I thought I had to keep my struggles hidden and always appear strong. But over time, I learned that the moments I felt most connected, supported, and loved came when I allowed myself to be truly seen. Vulnerability opened the door to healing, deeper relationships, and self-acceptance. Now, I want to share that truth with others—that being vulnerable doesn’t make you fragile, it makes you beautiful and sets you free. There is beauty in showing up as you are, without masks or defenses. Together, we can explore how embracing vulnerability leads to strength, courage, and freedom.

I had gotten myself into a relationship with a person who was sober, on house, arrest, and was going through the cycle of wanting to be better. And one snowy night I had found them passed out unknown what happened until they took my partner to the hospital, and I had found the bottle of vodka hiding from that relationship. I was the soul caretaker of someone who is suffering from. SUD. The relationship lasted 2 1/2 years and it was very codependent from me making sure that they were OK and for them having me as the caretaker there was abuse in the relationship from someone who did not want to get help I was able to leave that relationship completely heartbroken and tornand took time to grieve my own expectations from this person. I removed myself from my environment and started my healing journey while they got into another relationship while we were still together technically, I found myself now better because I was able to have the support from my friends to leave.

The road to recover is a long and labor intensive one full of uncomfortable emotions and consequences from your old life as an addict. It seems so much easier, less emotionally raw, to just return to what numbed us and seemed to shield us from the horror of our lives and our own minds. There is no going back without destruction and immense less. Let me hold the light and encourage you every step of the way, just like i needed someone to do for me on my own journey to sobriety and life. Whether it's being a friendly ear to listen to your fears and uncertainties in the middle of the night, helping you find the right treatment options for you, or just offering hope through the telling of my own road to sobriety, I'm right here when you need me.

A little over a year ago, I lost my younger brother to substance abuse. Four months later, I lost the love of my life to cancer. My world shattered. It felt like I’d fallen into a deep black hole with no way out. Everything changed, I couldn’t manage daily life without leaning on friends and family, and I had to give myself permission to simply grieve and do nothing for a while. Slowly, day by day, I began to heal. I started putting one foot in front of the other. Through my grief, I discovered lessons from both of them about living fully and authentically. Today, I carry those lessons with me. Living with a deeper sense of gratitude and appreciation for life, love, and the people who walk beside us through it all.

It is hard being the child of an alcoholic father. It's difficult carrying the shame, guilt, resentment, anger, and many more emotions along with learning how to adapt and thrive and cope with having no contact and my father not being in my life. I've learned that I have been better off without him and his toxicity, and I have learned to stand on my own two feet and to be proud of myself for all of my accomplishments. Most importantly, I'm proud of myself for not following in his ways. I've learned to accept myself in my own eyes, instead of seeking validation and acceptance in other ways that weren't healthy.

I spent years in and out of jail, living on the streets, and using just about every substance you can imagine. But on October 2nd, over two and a half years ago, I got clean—and I haven’t looked back. With four kids and an incredibly supportive partner of 11 years who stuck with me through the worst, I made a decision to dedicate my life to helping others like me. Because when you’ve lived it, you know how alone it can feel. Now, I’m a Certified Recovery Peer Specialist and Opioid Prevention Specialist, and I run a relapse prevention support group where I connect with people going through the same struggles I faced. I also work with incarcerated individuals through NAMI, offering peer support because I’ve been where they are. Sometimes, I even stop and talk to strangers on the street if I sense they’re hurting—because you never know when a conversation might be the lifeline someone needs.

I see or hear something that displeases me; there’s an immediate surge of energy in my gut. I feel like cursing or striking out. Or I feel like crying and hiding as when I was a child and anger wasn't allowed. Sometimes anger simmers unconsciously below the surface, waiting for a moment to erupt, most often at an inappropriate time bringing guilt or shame. It might translate into passive aggression, a biting comment or icy silence. Sometimes it morphs into something entirely different – anxiety or sadness or fear. Without psychoanalyzing, developing awareness of unrecognized anger can put us in control of it. Anger manifests in many ways. It often masquerades as insomnia and food disorders. Understanding how it manifests, acknowledging its presence, exploring it's origins and recognizing this consciously helps us better navigate it's various forms and respond in ways that are constructive rather than destructive. Giving help with such exploration is the work of a Warmer Expert.

The biggest challenge was coming out to myself. In the recovery community we talk about the "gifts of sobriety," things we learn about ourselves once the substance induced haze dissipates. My coming out was just that.....a gift. I had just turned 50 when I told my drinking story at a women's AA meeting. While I was clueless about myself, every lesbian in the room knew I was one of them. Due to internalized homophobia and unfamiliarity with the lifestyle, I intuitively felt threatened: I was embarrassed and ashamed, afraid of rejection. Being in corporate mode, I "hired" a "consultant" to help me assess my status. In the process, I found I already had lesbian friends. I found acceptance of myself and others. Whether you knew when you were 8 or are just now in discovery, coming out can be the most liberating of experiences. I've been there, done that, and I can help make your journey easier. You don't have to navigate it alone. Let me co-pilot your journey of discovery.

It’s easy to tell yourself you don’t really have a problem when you can still go to work, raise your kids, and keep your mask on. That illusion of control kept me stuck for years. Looking “fine” became the excuse to stay sick. Not everyone has to hit a rock bottom, but i was still destroying myself, my health, i just did it politely and quietly. I know how hard it is stop something when you become a master at always getting away with it.

I’ve been through a lot in my life—substance use, legal troubles, and homelessness—before experiencing a full recovery and spiritual awakening. My journey taught me the value of self-reflection, the importance of healthy relationships, and the power of faith. After years of working in addiction treatment, I’ve learned how crucial it is to understand attachment styles, healthy communication, and self-love. For years, I struggled in toxic relationships, but in my early 30s, I began learning about codependency and attachment styles, which has transformed the way I relate to others. My close relationship with God has been central to my healing, and I believe that the love I receive from Him forms the foundation for building healthy, fulfilling relationships. I truly believe that healing and growth are possible for everyone, no matter their past. I’m here to share my experiences, tools, and encouragement to help others walk their own path to recovery and healthy relationships.

I was a daily drinker for 18 years and now I have 18 years of continuous sobriety! My journey hasn’t been smooth sailing. I’ve faced addiction, mental health challenges, co-parenting struggles, and the heartbreak of losing loved ones. Through it all, I leaned into therapy and a strong support network to come out stronger. I'm now a Certified Medi-Cal Peer Support Specialist, and helping others find their footing is something I care deeply about. Whether you're navigating sobriety, parenting kids with complex needs, or just trying to keep your head above water, I’m here to listen, relate, and support however I can.

I had my first drink at 10 years old and was binge drinking regularly as a teenager. By 18, I was drinking daily and using drugs. I stayed stuck in that cycle until I was 36. It took me over two years of serious effort to finally quit. I didn’t do it alone—I leaned into a 12-step program, therapy, and a lot of support from friends who had been there. Now, I’ve been sober for over 17 years. Helping others get sober has become a part of my life too. I’ve supported friends through relapses, connected people with local resources, and even watched someone go from crying in despair to four years clean and thriving. I know the shame, the cravings, the lies we tell ourselves, and I also know it’s possible to live differently. I’m a dad, a surfer, and someone who still works on my mental health daily. Recovery has given me a life I never thought I could have. I’m here to listen, share what worked for me, and walk alongside anyone who’s just starting out or struggling to hold on.

My addiction started at the age of 14 with a prescription for opioid pain medication. Over the years, my addiction continued to progress and by age 16, I was addicted to opiates and illicit stimulants. I've had stints of sobriety since then, but continued to relapse and did not truly find recovery until the age of 30, after I lost my partner of 8 years to the disease of addiction. A lot has changed since then and I have found that finding oneself is the key to finding true healing and recovery.

I've struggled with addiction since my teenage years and finally found recovery in my 30s. Tell me about your battle with addiction and what recovery means to you!

I'm a brand new mom of a beautiful baby boy, and I am in recovery from drug & alcohol abuse. Let's talk about the challenges of being a new mom in recovery!

I started using drugs when I was 13—first cannabis and alcohol, then eventually harder substances like ecstasy, MDMA, and cocaine. For over a decade, drugs were how I coped with pain, trauma, and grief I didn’t know how to face. I thought I was escaping, but I was really burying myself under layers of hurt I didn’t yet have the tools to process. After years of spiraling and a drug-induced psychosis that shook me to my core, I made the decision to quit cold turkey in 2021. Recovery wasn’t a clean, linear path—it was painful, raw, and real. I had to relearn who I was without the numbing. I had to sit with everything I’d been running from. And I had to rebuild my nervous system, my sense of self, and my trust in life. I’ve supported my recovery with nearly two decades of therapy, mindfulness, and inner work. I’ve faced down the realities of complex PTSD, depression, anxiety, and chronic illness—all of which were entangled in my addiction story. But most importantly, I’ve learned that healing is possible. Not perfect. Not easy. But deeply, beautifully real. I’m here for anyone walking that terrifying, courageous path toward sobriety—whether you're just beginning or have been in recovery for years.

"I was the alcoholic who was selfish, self-centered, and whose existence revolved around the next drink. The shame of my past—from blackouts to letting down my family—is something I deeply relate to. That old life is behind me. Through the 12-step process, I've found a new path. Today, I am a respected and reliable member of my community. I'm available to be called upon to help, and I can share how I rebuilt my life and restored relationships with the next generations."

Hi, I’m Michael — a peer support specialist, minister, father, and survivor. My life’s story includes overcoming childhood sexual abuse, addiction to alcohol and opioids, family violence, and deep personal loss. I started drinking at 10 years old, using it to numb the pain of things no child should ever have to endure. It took a lot of time, community, faith, and resilience to heal and build the life I have today. I’ve been sober from alcohol since 1989 and free from opioids since 2005. Along the way, I also raised two kids (and later adopted a daughter at 13), navigated grief, broken family bonds, and found a life full of service to others. Whether you're struggling with addiction, trauma, family dynamics, parenting challenges, or just feeling like you don’t know where to start—I’m here. I’ll meet you where you are with understanding, patience, and hope.

Hi, I’m Michael — a peer support specialist, minister, father, and survivor. My life’s story includes overcoming childhood sexual abuse, addiction to alcohol and opioids, family violence, and deep personal loss. I started drinking at 10 years old, using it to numb the pain of things no child should ever have to endure. It took a lot of time, community, faith, and resilience to heal and build the life I have today. I’ve been sober from alcohol since 1989 and free from opioids since 2005. Along the way, I also raised two kids (and later adopted a daughter at 13), navigated grief, broken family bonds, and found a life full of service to others. Whether you're struggling with addiction, trauma, family dynamics, parenting challenges, or just feeling like you don’t know where to start—I’m here. I’ll meet you where you are with understanding, patience, and hope.

As someone who has been in a romantic partnership with a person who is incarcerated, I understsnd the unique set of challenges and emotions that come with this experience. The separation, the communication barriers, and the societal stigma can create an immense strain on both partners and the relationship itself. It's a difficult journey, but you don't have to figure it out all on your own. Together, we'll explore ways to communicate effectively, maintain emotional connection, and care for your mental well-being during these challenging times.