Trigger warning: this piece discusses themes of abuse, addiction, eating disorders, human trafficking, PTSD, substance abuse, suicidal ideation, suicide, and trauma.
From as early as I can remember, I always felt different, and a major part of that was due to my home environment. My biological family was very chaotic and dysfunctional, so I lacked the stability and safety that would have helped me identify and cope with my emotions. In elementary school, I started showing concerning behaviours, such as having emotional outbursts. These behaviours continued throughout both middle and high school, though they evolved as I got older. My emotional outbursts often caused me to rip up papers in the classroom, hide in bathrooms until teachers came to get me, and even run away from home.
These experiences reinforced my feelings of being different from other kids. I felt uncomfortable in my body, unsafe in my home, and overwhelmingly confused. After graduating high school, child protective services placed me outside my home due to abuse. That was when my mental health became unmanageable. My entire understanding of the world around me was altered. I was living with strangers, no longer had any biological family, and the reality of my life up until that point hit me all at once. The pain was unbearable.
Between the ages of 17 and 20, I became heavily addicted to drugs, stayed in a few inpatient psychiatric facilities, bounced between places to live, attended numerous outpatient programs, and continued to experience worsening mental health.
When I was 20 years old, just before my 21st birthday, I was admitted to the hospital again – this time due to physical illness caused by my addiction and eating disorder. After about a week of inpatient care, I realised that I truly needed support and, most importantly, that I had to be willing to accept it.
When I was discharged, I was referred to an outpatient program, where they suggested I attend a twelve-step fellowship to build a strong support network. This fellowship gave me a family; a safe place where I can be unconditionally loved as my authentic self, and has helped me find the hope, courage, and gratitude to face life as it shows up with grace and integrity.
Martial arts and rock climbing have also had a big impact on my journey. They allow me to take care of my physical well-being which directly affects my mental health and recovery. I was discharged from the hospital and went to my first meeting for a twelve-step fellowship as a scared and beaten 20-year-old, who didn’t think life would ever be worth living for someone like her. But I learned that I am not alone, that I am loved, and that I deserve to live a beautiful life.
As soon as I accepted that I needed help, that I deserved help, and that it was okay to receive help, my life began to change for the better. I have stayed in recovery through that fellowship since then. Over the past 4+ years, I went back into an inpatient psychiatric unit while clean, attempted suicide once, and received outpatient services many times. The difference was that I remained committed to not using drugs, no matter what, and stayed willing to keep moving forward. In the end, when I hit my version of rock bottom, I was inspired to seek and accept the support that had been available to me all along.
I wish more people understood that mental health is a journey, and healing is not linear. For me, it took years of hard work, adversity, and resilience to reach the place I’m in now, and I still have to work on it every day. I also wish people understood the profound and lasting impact of familial trafficking and how it intersects with mental health. Experiencing abuse and exploitation within my own family not only shattered my sense of safety but also left me with deep scars that took years to start addressing. Growing up in such an unsafe and chaotic environment made it nearly impossible for me to understand or regulate my emotions. It’s not that I didn’t want to do better – I didn’t have the tools, support, or stability to navigate what I was going through. Lastly, I want people to know that recovery is possible, no matter how hopeless or broken someone feels. Familial trafficking and the resulting mental health struggles don’t define a person or dictate their future. With empathy, compassion, and access to resources, healing and thriving are achievable. There is always hope.
Recovery has taught me that I don’t have to go through life alone, and being part of a twelve-step fellowship has been a cornerstone of my healing. The people I’ve met there have shown me unconditional love and support, which has helped me feel safe enough to be vulnerable and honest about my struggles. Therapy has also been an invaluable tool. It has given me a space to process my trauma, learn healthier coping mechanisms, and reframe negative beliefs about myself. Another key resource has been staying connected to my body through activities like exercise, such as martial arts and rock climbing. These not only ground me but also help me build confidence and release pent-up emotions. Journaling, making art, playing piano, and earthing are other tools that help me. I identify strongly with Wonder Woman and even have the logo tattooed with flowers on my neck. One of my favourite quotes from the movie is, “Now I know, that only love can truly save the world. So I stay, I fight, and I give, for the world I know can be.” Through this identification, I use the Wonder Woman movies to find strength and comfort. I take time each day to acknowledge what I’m thankful for – even on the hardest days – reminds me of how far I’ve come and motivates me to keep moving forward.
One of my greatest achievements in recovery has been earning not just one, but I am about to earn my second degree. After I graduate, I plan to continue working at my current job, where I support youth who have experienced out-of-home placements like I did. What I’m most looking forward to, though, is using my story and voice to create change in the justice and legal system. Recovery has given me the clarity, strength, and confidence to take my experiences and turn them into advocacy. I want to help others who have faced similar challenges and push for systemic reforms that prioritize protection and justice, especially regarding human trafficking.
So many miracles have happened since I entered recovery and began taking care of my mental health. Gratitude is at the center of how I live my life because I am so deeply thankful to be alive and clean. Some days, it really is that simple. I am also incredibly grateful for my support network. I am surrounded by people who unconditionally love me – people I call my family because they show up for me in my lowest and highest moments. I could go on and on about all the gifts in my life that I am proud of and grateful for, but to keep it short: I spent most of my life begging a higher power not to let me wake up the next day. Each morning, I would wake up devastated to still be alive. Today, I wake up grateful for another opportunity to experience life.
The way I carry myself every day is rooted in gratitude and joy, but I am also human. I think many people underestimate the range of emotions I feel and the pain I coexist with daily. For years, I used my pain as fuel for self-destruction and misery, and I know how easily I could slip back into that mindset. Today, I consciously choose to live differently. I’ve already suffered enough pain at the hands of others and continued that cycle within myself – why would I want to spend any more time suffering? Another quote from Wonder Woman that resonates is, “It’s not about what you deserve; it’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.” I face internal battles that others may not see. I often move through life doing things while scared, and though people perceive me as confident and brave – which is true – I can be brave, confident, and scared all at once. Most people don’t believe me when I say I used to be a different person entirely. I still face challenges with social interactions, feeling safe in public spaces, and overcoming self-doubt. Despite these struggles, I continue to show up for myself and for others. I think that’s a part of me most people aren’t fully aware of – the effort it takes to keep moving forward while carrying all that I’ve been through.
You’re not alone, even if it feels like it. It’s okay to ask for help and to accept it. Trust can be hard, especially if you’ve been hurt by those who were supposed to protect you, but there are people who genuinely care. Take things one step at a time, we all only have this moment and today. Healing isn’t about fixing everything at once – it’s about making small, consistent choices to move forward. The pain doesn’t define you or your future, and remember, “Just because I’m different, doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me.” So have hope in the possibility of something better, even if it feels far away. Focus on what you can control, and let go of what you can’t. Be kind to yourself. You’ve survived so much, and that alone is proof of your strength. Just keep moving forward, one step at a time.
-Tripp
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