From Corporate Executive to Helping Mothers Heal

For thirty long and rewarding years, I thrived as one of the top corporate recruiters in my area, matching countless individuals with their dream jobs and helping to shape the futures of many people, businesses, and organizations.

I had a rewarding career, loving kids, a dog and a beautiful home. Everything we aspire to achieve. Life was structured, predictable, and successful. Sure, everything wasn’t perfect. I was divorced from my children’s father and we all had our ups and downs, but it didn’t seem insurmountable.

I thought we were managing well, I loved the clarity and purpose my career provided and I thought the kids were navigating through life pretty well. I was aware, I thought, and not naive to the struggles of teenagers. I always tried to be ready for anything and stay one step ahead. Yet nothing could have prepared me for the night that would pivot my life’s direction entirely. In fact, it was more than a pivot; it felt like a complete derailment.

It was a balmy evening on the island of St John, where my family and I were vacationing. The ocean whispered promises of peace. My family and I were on what was supposed to be a restorative vacation, a chance to bond and escape the pressures of everyday life. As a mother, I believed I was creating precious memories for my children.

However, beneath that serene tableau, a storm was brewing—one that would challenge the very foundation of my motherhood.

Some fellow travelers approached me while I was ordering food with my daughter. They said a lot of things, none of which made any sense at the time. I was certain they were up to no good, or they were talking to the wrong mom. In reality, my son was in trouble and they said I should be more aware of what my children were doing. I was mortified.

My son? It couldn’t be. We were just grabbing a bite to eat while he found a spot for us on the beach.

But I couldn’t shake the knot souring in my stomach, so I ventured to the spot they described and found my son that night under a palm tree, not soaking in the picturesque scenery but lost in the throes of heroin. The image of him, so vulnerable and ensnared in his struggle, is etched in my mind permanently.

That moment under the palm trees was not just a shock; it was a revelation wrapped in devastation. It exposed the harsh reality that addiction knows no boundaries, no matter how strong a family may seem.

The journey back from that night was tumultuous and felt like forever. Initially, I grappled with a torrent of emotions: guilt, anger, despair, and confusion. How had I missed the signs? Was I too wrapped up in my career and personal ambitions?

The corporate world had taught me to solve problems quickly and efficiently, but addiction wasn’t a problem I could just ‘solve.’ It was a profound, ongoing challenge that required patience, understanding, and an entirely new skill set. Also, a conclusion that I soon drew was that addiction wasn’t just someone’s problem. It was everyone’s problem. It was a family disease, one that affected everyone in the household differently and our entire community – which I learned much later. Within my children’s small circle of friends, we have lost four to drug addiction that we know of.

I knew I needed change. I wanted to make sense of my life, my son’s life, the impact on my daughter, and try to find my own personal happiness. I wanted to set boundaries but had no idea how to do it or where to start.

So, I set out on a mission to educate and empower myself.

In my quest for answers, I encountered Partnership to End Addiction. The training I underwent there, particularly in Community Reinforcement and Family Training (CRAFT), was transformative, to say the least. It equipped me with the tools not just to support my son but to help other mothers facing similar battles.

For those of you who know the crisis of addiction, none of us are prepared. The cycle of relapse and recovery, street living, mental illness, ERs, detox centers – it’s exhausting. Living with constant fear, grief, regret and not knowing what to do with any of these emotions, OR, how to help my son by being his advocate with schools, professionals, medical facilities and jails. The principles of CRAFT, which focus on positive reinforcement and supportive communication, reshaped my approach to dealing with addiction and inspired me to become what I am today, a Life Purpose Coach for mothers of those with addiction. Through my own experience, I now help other mamas navigate the hardships that come with loving a child whose substance use has become a problem.

But I’m making it sound like it happened overnight! Transitioning from a high-powered corporate executive to a life coach certainly wasn’t easy, and it took every ounce of my focus and dedication, but it was deeply fulfilling. I still work at my own stuff every day, with the help of community, friends, even clients.

Every session with another mother, every story shared, and every small victory observed reminds me why this work is so crucial, especially these days. Learning to set boundaries was another critical milestone in my journey. It allowed me to reclaim my life and peace, teaching me that caring deeply for someone does not mean you have to sacrifice your well-being. Through my platform, Mamas Got Grit, I now empower other mothers to find their strength, set their boundaries, and nurture their resilience. My story is one of many, but it underscores a vital message: healing is possible, and change can be a powerful agent of renewal.

In this crazy and chaotic journey of motherhood, remember, you’re never alone. Together, we can work through the complex paths of motherhood and addiction, supporting each other toward a future filled with hope and empowerment.

And my son? He chose the path of medically assisted treatment (MAT) or MOUD, medication for opioid addiction. Combined with therapy, lots of love, patience and community, it is helping him tremendously. This is not a path for everyone, but it is an option for many.