My Life from 2010 to 2012: A Wake-Up Call

    From the outside, my life between 2010 and 2012 probably looked like a wild, carefree young adult figuring things out. But the truth is, it was a blur—one I thought at the time was me "living my best life." Looking back now, it was anything but that.

    In April 2010, I lost my Nana to cancer. That was the beginning of the unraveling. She and my Granddaddy were the foundation of our family—our traditions, our love, our togetherness. Her death left a hole, not just in me but especially in my Aunt Sharon. They were best friends, and losing Nana shattered something in all of us.

    I was drifting—moving in and out of my dad and stepmom’s house depending on whatever reason I was given. “You woke your dad up with your footsteps,” or “If you say you’ll be home at 10, be home at 10.” “His house, his rules.” It wasn’t a home—it was a place I passed through.
Deep down, I know I was craving love and comfort, things I felt like I missed out on during my childhood. I started searching for it in all the wrong places—mainly through relationships. And alcohol. Drinking became my escape. A casual drink at dinner turned into drinks at friends’ houses, bars—anywhere, really. I was always drinking.

    Then in September 2012, I made the worst mistake of my life. I left a bar in Chesapeake while drunk. I thought the light was green—but it wasn’t. I ran the red light and got pulled over. I cooperated with the officer but couldn’t pass the sobriety test. They arrested me for DWI.

    I remember the panic in that jail cell like it was yesterday. I wasn’t just scared—I was terrified. I had a panic attack. I’d never been in trouble growing up, and now here I was, locked up. People were yelling, high, banging on the walls. I asked the officer if the man next door was going to break through the wall and come after me. I was that scared.

    Telling my dad was even worse. I felt like the biggest disappointment. I was 23 years old. I should have known better. But here’s what people don’t understand—I had to grow up fast. I was the oldest. I helped raise Paul. Then when my dad remarried, I helped take care of Paul and Katy while both parents worked. I didn’t have a teenage party phase. I didn’t have a chance to be reckless—until suddenly I did.

    My dad told me I “fucked up my life,” thinking the DWI was a felony. He told me I wouldn't get my college degree because it was a felony - that hurt knowing I was currently in college courses, and I didn't graduate high school because I couldn't pass the OGT's so I had to settle for a GED.  It wasn’t—it was a misdemeanor—but the weight of those words? That hit deeper than the charge itself. 

    After that, I moved out of my Norfolk house with the roommates I was living with at the time and moved in with my best friend at the time, Laura, in Virginia Beach. I had court coming up. The only person who showed up for me in that courtroom was Kara, a friend I met through mutual friends. Not family. Not even blood. Just Kara. She stood by me when she didn’t have to—and that meant everything.

    The court didn’t lock me up. I got a fine, a restricted license, had to install a breathalyzer in my car for six months (with monthly recalibrations), and I had to attend AA. I did everything I was supposed to do, on time, without fail—because I never wanted to end up in that cell again.

    Around this time, I left my first job in Virginia Beach at Media Communications and became a front desk agent at Homewood Suites. That’s when I discovered my love for hospitality. I even tried to change my major to hospitality, but it was too late—so I chose business management instead.

    Eventually, I moved in with Kara, trying to rebuild my life. I wish I could say the drinking stopped there—it didn’t. But I stayed out of legal trouble, and that counts for something. That whole period was dark, confusing, and full of pain, but it also taught me a lot.

    Jail scared me. Losing my Nana broke me. Hearing my dad’s disappointment crushed me. Kara saved me.

But learning who really stands by you? That changed me.

Me at the Eagles Nest Chesapeake, VA 
One of my favorite bars to go to, 
this was the one I left at when 
I got the DWI. 

Kara and I - she is the one who saved me during the 
most difficult time of my life. 

Kara and I again - she is and has become
an important part of mine and me 
children's lives - stay tuned for more about
her and our relationship.