I grew up in a small Arizona town—two blocks wide, everyone knowing everyone, and most of us stuck in the same cycle. My parents were addicts; so were my brother and sister. By fourteen, I was too. I also became a mom.

I started using meth, and before long, I was selling it. That was the world I knew. I never finished school past eighth grade. I ended up having six children and did whatever I could to make sure they had what I never did. Material things like new clothes, a roof over their heads, and food on the table. I thought I was giving them a better life. But really, I was trying to buy their love when all they ever wanted was my time, my hugs, my presence. Those were the things I didn’t know how to give.

When I was arrested in December 2022, my youngest was seventeen. I can still hear her voice on the phone the day I told her I wasn’t coming home. That was the moment everything I’d been running from caught up to me.

I spent the first year inside doing what I’d always done—keeping my head down and pretending I didn’t care. But the truth is, I was angry and ashamed. Then one day, a friend convinced me to go to a meeting about something called the PATHS program from the Televerde Foundation. I told her, “They’ll never take me. I still have five years left.”

But they did take me. And that one moment changed everything.

Inside the PATHS classroom, I started learning business skills. More than that, I learned how to listen, how to feel again, and how to forgive myself. For years, I thought my anger was strength, but it was really just fear. I was afraid that I had ruined everything and could never make it right. I was wrong — beautifully, completely, thank-God wrong.

My son’s a sergeant now in a prison just like the one I’m in. I still don’t know how to explain what that feels like. It’s both pride and regret fighting for space in my chest.

And my daughter…well, she’s graduating soon with a degree in criminal justice. She wants to work for the FBI. When I think about these things, I cry for every bedtime story I missed and every birthday cake I didn’t make. Yet somehow, they still became everything I wasn’t.

The addiction that started in my family generations ago ends with me. My children will never know that life. That’s what the Televerde Foundation gave me: not just education or opportunity, but the chance to be the mother my kids always needed.

I never thought I’d say this, but I love who I am now. I smile. I care. I’m proud. I see the world in color again. And I finally believe my story isn’t over — it’s only beginning.

Right now, PATHS in Indiana and Arizona could lose funding. If my story touched you, please help protect this program for the women still inside. They deserve their chance too.

DONATE NOW TO HELP US ROTECT HER SECOND CHANCE.

 P.S. As a small thank-you, every $25 you donate (or monthly gift) enters you in a drawing for a 7-night stay for four at the Mayan Palace in your choice of Riviera Maya, Nuevo Vallarta, or Puerto Peñasco.

With gratitude,

Anna

PATHS Graduate & Program Aide