My Story

I Wasn’t Always the Man I Am Today

For much of my life, addiction controlled nearly every decision I made.

My story didn’t begin with drugs or alcohol. It began long before that, growing up in a small Nebraska community, struggling with anger, emotions I didn’t understand, and a feeling that something inside me wasn’t right.

As a child, I was often labeled the problem kid. As I got older, my behavior became more destructive. I started getting into trouble at school, fighting, running away, and eventually finding myself involved with drugs and alcohol.

What started as experimentation eventually became a lifestyle that would consume decades of my life.

I wasn’t just destroying my own future. I was hurting the people who loved me most.

And for years, I couldn’t see it.

The Years Addiction Took Away

Addiction led me down roads I never imagined traveling.

There were arrests, jail cells, prison sentences, broken relationships, and opportunities I threw away.

I spent years incarcerated, watching life continue without me.

But even when I was released, I hadn’t necessarily learned how to live differently.

I would make progress, find employment, rebuild relationships, and convince myself that this time things would be different.

Then addiction would find its way back into my life.

The hardest part wasn’t always losing everything. It was knowing that people believed in me, and continuing to let them down.

I take responsibility for the choices I made. Addiction influenced my decisions, but it doesn’t excuse the harm I caused.

There are things I wish I could go back and change. People I wish I could apologize to again. Moments I wish I could get back.

But I can’t. And accepting that has become part of my recovery.

A Mother’s Faith That Never Gave Up

Through everything, there was one person who never stopped believing that I could become a better man. My mother.

She watched me struggle through addiction, incarceration, and countless disappointments. There were probably moments when she wondered whether I would ever find my way.

But she never stopped praying. She never stopped loving me. And she never stopped believing there was something better waiting for me.

In 2026, my mother was diagnosed with leukemia. As she fought for her life, I was fighting to build a new one.

I had returned to college, was working toward a career in addiction counseling, and was preparing for graduation. One of her greatest wishes was to see me walk across that stage.

Sadly, she passed away just weeks before my graduation. One of the last things she told me was that she was sorry she wouldn’t be there. Those words will stay with me forever.

On May 15, 2026, I walked across that graduation stage. My mother wasn’t sitting in the audience. But I believe she had the best seat in the house. A front-row seat in heaven.

And I know that diploma represented more than an education. It represented every prayer she prayed, every tear she cried, and every moment she refused to give up on her son.

IN LOVING MEMORY

Mom, this was for you.

You spent years praying I would find my way. You never gave up on me, even when I had given up on myself.

You wanted so badly to see me graduate. Although you couldn’t be there in person, I believe you had the best seat in the house—a front-row seat in heaven.

Every step I took across that stage was for you. Your faith in me helped me find my purpose.

Finding My Purpose Through Recovery

Today, my life looks very different.

After years of addiction and incarceration, I returned to school and earned my associate degree in Drug and Alcohol Counseling.

I began working in recovery services, supporting individuals facing many of the same struggles I once faced.

I discovered something that changed the way I looked at my past: the very experiences I once considered my greatest failures could become tools for helping someone else.

I understand what it’s like to sit across from a counselor and not want to be there. I understand denial, shame, guilt, relapse, and the fear of starting over.

But I also understand what happens when someone finally becomes willing to change.

Recovery isn’t about becoming perfect. It’s about becoming accountable, learning to live differently, and continuing forward even when life gets difficult.

I still attend recovery meetings. I still surround myself with people who support my sobriety. And I still remind myself that recovery requires action. Every single day.

Breaking the Mirror: Rebuilding Self-Worth

My experiences inspired me to develop Breaking the Mirror: Rebuilding Self-Worth in Recovery, a 12-week recovery program designed to help individuals challenge negative beliefs, confront shame, and begin rebuilding their identity.

For years, I looked in the mirror and saw nothing but my failures. An addict. A convicted felon. Someone who had wasted too many opportunities.

But recovery taught me that those labels didn’t have to define the rest of my life.

And that’s the message I want to share with others.

You are more than your addiction. More than your criminal record. More than your worst decision.

You are still capable of change.

My Story Isn’t Finished

I’m not sharing my story because I have all the answers. I’m sharing it because I know what hopelessness feels like.

I know what it’s like to lose years of your life, disappoint the people you love, and wonder whether you’ve gone too far to ever come back.

But I also know what it’s like to find hope again.

Today, I’m a husband, a college graduate, a recovery advocate, and an aspiring author.

More importantly, I’m someone who has been given another opportunity to live with purpose.

I believe God kept me here for a reason. And I intend to make the most of that opportunity.

If my story reaches one person who is struggling, one family that is losing hope, or one individual who believes their past has destroyed their future, then sharing it will have been worth it.

Because I am living proof that change is possible.

My past is part of my story. But it will never again determine my future.