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Thinking a lot about gratitude. Things have been shitty for reasons (sweeps arm), but I’m grateful to be where I am. Out of all 13 women here I’m the only one who hasn’t been homeless or jailed/incarcerated. Some spend years in prison, for some this is the first time they’ve had their own bed.

Privilege is something I don’t take for granted; I’ve a car/license, I’m employable and work, and I get to see my little regularly. At the same time we all sit to budget our very limited finances (most come with nothing), attend a million meetings, and process mounds and years of trauma together.

I hear their stories and can’t believe how awful they are, they hear mine and feel the same as I do. Not a single one of us would wish our stories on any enemy. The thing is without those stories we wouldn’t be here, we wouldn’t be easing our emotional burdens with people the same as us.

That is important. I’ve fought and fought to not need a community of “me”, I wanted to be a “normie”, but I’m simply not - just like my sisters here. I’ve embraced some 12 step principles; a higher power(my homegirl Mary), turning over my will, making amends, and the one that always feels icky

Everything happens for a reason. (I use this in a very narrow, specific, recovery only way). I almost hate that it works, but it does. I’ve always hesitated with the sentiment “relapse is part of recovery”. It isn’t for everyone, but it is for me and wo it I wouldn’t be here.

Love you, Stef. I’m always rooting for you. ❤️