05/08/2026
I just want to share something from my heart, and I’m only sharing it because I lived it.
A lot of people see a thrift store, and I get that. I probably would have too once. You walk in, you see clothes, furniture, donated things, and maybe you just think it’s a place selling stuff. I would have thought it's free why don't they just give it away?
But now for me… I can see it was never just that.
This place changed my life.
There was a time I had absolutely nothing. And I mean nothing. Just the clothes on my back, broken choices, addiction, and a life that had completely fallen apart.
And what’s hard to explain is… I did have family who loved me.
They loved me the whole time.
They wanted better for me.
They wanted to help me.
They wanted to believe I could get better.
Truth is… all they ever really wanted was me.
Not the version of me that kept running.
Not the version that disappeared.
Not the version that got sober for a little while just to leave again.
Not the version that kept breaking their hearts and making promises I wasn’t ready to keep.
They just wanted me in their lives.
Present.
Healthy.
There.
But addiction is hard on everybody, not just the one living in it.
My family had cried for me, prayed for me, tried to help me, and held on as long as they could. They loved me, but truth is… they had given everything they had to give unless they started seeing something different.
Not because they didn’t love me.
Not because they gave up on me.
I’m just being real… I had put them through this for so long they didn’t know what else to do.
And I get that now.
I had spent so many years caught in that cycle… running, falling apart, getting it together, then leaving again… that by the time I finally got it right, I had grandkids.
Think about that.
I lost years I can’t get back.
Years my family just wanted me to be okay.
Years they wanted me to stay.
Years they wanted the real me, not addiction.
My own choices had taken me so far down that I had lived in cars, on the streets, and even ended up in a mental institution with nowhere to go.
Nowhere.
I didn’t have money.
I didn’t have insurance.
I didn’t have some big recovery plan.
Honestly… I barely had hope left.
I just needed somebody, somewhere, to care enough to give me a real chance.
And that’s what was different here.
They didn’t ask me how I was going to pay.
They didn’t ask what insurance I had.
They didn’t ask me to prove I was worth helping.
They just said… come.
Come heal.
Come start over.
Come do something different.
And Lord… I still think about that.
Because when you’ve spent years burning bridges, hurting yourself, hurting the people who love you, and running your life straight into the ground… having somebody believe there is still something worth saving matters.
This place cared more about me healing than me paying.
And that changed everything.
My family was restored.
And I don’t just mean I got sober.
I mean I finally became somebody they could stop worrying would disappear.
Somebody they didn’t have to wonder about.
Somebody they could trust to stay.
That matters.
I got my GED.
I went on and got a college degree.
And I can’t even lie… sometimes I still stop and think about that, because when you’ve lived the kind of life I lived… it doesn’t even feel real.
And one of the most beautiful parts… my husband of 30 years eventually came too, and he got sober too. Then my sister came, my sister n law came, my brother came and recently some of my family moved here. They quit running from and avoiding me!
Now that right there… that means something.
So when I say this place changed my life… I mean that.
It didn’t just change me.
It helped restore my marriage.
My family.
My future.
Today I get to actually be present for the people I love.
And after all those years of running… that alone is a blessing I don’t take lightly.
And all of that happened because somebody cared enough to start this place… and because strangers gave.
People donated.
People shopped.
People supported something bigger than themselves.
Some of them may never know my name.
But they helped change my life.
That’s why I think it matters for people to understand what this place really is.
Yes, it’s a store.
But what comes through those doors does so much more than sell.
That money helps keep the store open.
It helps pay the building note, lights, water, and bills.
But it also keeps homes open for women who are coming in with nowhere else to go.
It covers 100 % housing.
Utilities.
Gas.
Transportation.
Insurance.
Food.
Personal things women need when they are trying to rebuild from absolutely nothing.
Because sometimes women come here with nothing left.
No money.
No options.
Just the willingness to try.
And they are not told to go get money first.
They are not told to go get insurance first.
They are told to come heal.
And I’m just being honest… that matters.
Because recovery shouldn’t be only for people who can afford it.
Sometimes the woman who needs it most is the one who has absolutely nothing left.
That was me.
And I think people should know this too… because honesty matters… the directors here are not out getting rich from this place. They have their own jobs. They do this because they believe women deserve a real chance.
I know that… because I was one of those women who got one.
So if you’ve ever donated here…
If you’ve ever shopped here…
If you’ve ever supported this place in any way…
I just need you to know something.
You helped somebody like me.
You helped a woman who had run out of road.
You helped a family that loved her but didn’t know how to keep surviving her choices.
You helped give somebody’s mother…
Somebody’s wife…
Somebody’s grandmother…
A real chance to come back.
I may never meet you.
But I will always be grateful for you.
Because I know what it feels like to have nowhere to turn… and then have somebody say come anyway.
That’s why I stay.
That’s why I give back.
Because I’ve seen the fruit.
I’ve lived it.
So for me… this will never just be a thrift store.
It’s the place that helped me rebuild my life when I had torn it all apart.
And that’s the truth.
