WHO I AM

I am 40 and Chicana. My father is Mexican and my mother is Spanish, Indian and Portuguese. I grew up in the Bay Area, in Hayward, California. I am a middle child, with an older sister and younger brother.

MY FAMILY

Glorya at 6 months

There was a 20-year age difference between my parents and they divorced early. I was 3 or 4 when my father left and my mother raised us by herself. We were taught to keep quiet about the fact that that we came from a single parent home and were on public assistance. My father was a gifted man, but a tormented alcoholic. One of my earliest recollections of him was when my parents drove me to the dentist. My father parked in front of the building and suddenly hit my mother. I froze.

MY FIRST TIME USING

I was in 6th grade. My sister and friends started smoking weed and they let me try it. I giggled. At our elementary school, we were one of two Mexican American families. The Anglo kids were hostile, and harassed us, calling us Beaners. That was the first time I realized I wasn't white. I was very self-conscious about not fitting in. In 7th grade I started drinking. My two best friends and I would cut class, hang out, and shoplift beer. One friend would stick the

At age 3, with my older sister.

cans up the sleeves of her coat -- we never got caught. When we drank, we'd laugh and laugh and life didn't feel so painful. My sister and I would get someone to buy us Thunderbird, then go to a skating rink and skate drunk. In 8th grade, I changed schools. There were more Chicano students and I was accepted. Drinking and drugging were part of the culture, and we were smoking daily. When my mom caught us with pot, she would yell, or spank us.

HIGH SCHOOL

I did acid and started smoking PCP, blacking out a couple of times. My mother was very confusing. I remember her as very depressed and full of rage. As a young child, I was ignored, but when I got older, she said I was undisciplined. If I stayed out too late or did something she didn't like, she beat me. She would pull my hair and shake me, or hit me with a belt or a cord. I learned how to shut down, as I couldn't run. I learned how not to feel anything.

AFTER HIGH SCHOOL

I enrolled at the

Five years old, and wearing my favorite dress.

Fashion Institute in San Francisco. One morning my mother started to beat me, and in a split second I resolved that she was not going to hit me again. I moved out to my boyfriend's. We drank and used acid and cocaine. I quit school. I had jobs occasionally, but no direction. Later, I moved in with my sister and started dating other guys. I was drinking and drugging; I used crank (speed). I didn't have to buy it – I dated guys who had it. I tried living with a roommate in Berkeley; I had a retail job, but I could never pay the full amount of the rent. My mother started calling me continuously, telling me to move back home. My job was seasonal and they started cutting my hours. I became more desperate. I would only eat when men bought me food, as I lived on just a few dollars.

A LOW POINT

I was waiting at a bus stop when a man pulled up in a Volkswagen. He said, "Want a ride?" I figured I'd save bus fare, so I accepted. We went back to his place, drank brandy

Me at 15.

and snorted cocaine. He was a "gentleman." He didn't touch me, but he said, "You're a pretty girl, you could set yourself up in business." Although I was high, I didn't take him seriously. He gave me his number. A week or two later, I was really broke, started panicking and dialed his number. The phone rang, no one answered. I got scared when I realized what I was willing to do. I called my mom and moved back with her.

DRIVEN TO SUCCEED (STILL USING)

It started hitting me that while I had a high school diploma, I had no job skills. As a child, I was not encouraged to excel. Now I started college, and learned I had a brain. I started hiding my drug use from friends, but drinking was acceptable. I was very active in the Latino community at school, and was a founding member of the first Latina sorority at San Jose State University. I was very driven -- I felt like I had to get someplace. I drank all the time, and had crazy, sexual entanglements with guys. After graduation,

High school graduation

based on academic excellence, I received a fellowship for a Master's program. I moved to New York. To cope with the loneliness, I drank tequila, cosmopolitans, and six-packs, often by myself.

FINDING MYSELF

I became involved in my first relationship with a woman. Before, I attributed all my relationship problems to men. But now I saw the same negative patterns emerging. I began to wonder, what was I bringing to the relationship? A coworker who was in recovery told me, "You're not right, Glorya. You have some big issues." She gave me the number to a Latina lesbian therapist. I disliked hearing her words, but my life was out of control, so I called the number.

MY WORST MOMENTS

I broke up with a second girlfriend and lost my job. I went from being a director of a program for teacher development, to being a temp. As a first generation educated professional woman who was supposedly a success story in the eyes of my family and friends, my situation

Life in Berkeley, CA (age 20)

was very humbling. I sank into a depression, to the point where medication was helpful. I volunteered with SpeakOUT LGBT Voices of Recovery at the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgendered Community Center (LGBTCC) in New York City. I started working with a white, lesbian therapist who really understood my issues. I began looking at my drinking, my sexuality and my struggles with my mother. I literally fell apart. I lost a lot of friends as the real me emerged.

MY TURNING POINT

I had put down the drugs and alcohol, but I still had a lot of pain. I had a lot of anxiety, so I started going to relaxation classes. Things were not making sense. I went to a yoga workshop for phobias caused by trauma. I remember sitting there when the instructor asked everyone, "Why are you here?" When it was my turn, I meant to say, "Because of alcohol." What came out of my mouth was, "Sexual abuse." I began dealing with the fact that I was molested as a young child. That was what

A college party — my drinking days.

all that pain was about. I had so much rage. In my memory, I didn't see the face. Two years ago, I asked my mother, "Who did you let stay in the bedroom across from mine when I was little?" And she said, "Only your father stayed there, when he came to visit." I asked her if he had a silver watch -- she said yes. I remembered the watch. It was my father. My mother never knew that he molested me until I told her. It was hard for her to believe that I could accurately remember this incident.

WHAT I KNOW NOW

I've learned to feel great compassion for myself. I realize that using alcohol and drugs was the way I protected myself from pain. I couldn't lash out at my parents, so the anger went inward. I'll always be proud that I was able to take that first step, not knowing what was to come. It's been a hard journey, things haven't been clear, but I keep going.

MY RECOVERY

Recovery is an ongoing process. My recovery is definitely what I make it

My going away party. Still drinking and drugging, age 27.

and will go as far as I am willing to take it. I continue to work with my therapist, and am part of a women's therapeutic group. And I attend 12-step meetings and I'm on the campaign steering committee of Faces and Voices of Recovery (FAVOR), an organization working to end the stigma and discrimination that so many people in recovery experience. We need to be supportive of people who are trying to make enormous changes in their lives. When my mother found out I was a lesbian, she freaked out. Homosexuality is a big taboo in the Chicano/Latino community, so it was tough road to walk. With this in mind, I continuously try to share my experiences with others.

MY LIFE TODAY

I've grown immensely and I am just beginning to really appreciate the sweetness of life. I've discovered an untapped passion -- creative writing. My relationship with my mother has been healing. I share my recovery with my family because alcoholism and trauma is a family disease. By no means, did

Age 36, in recovery, at a PRIDE parade, NYC.

this disease touch only me -- it touched all of us. I pray, meditate and work out every morning. I have a lot of peace and tranquility. I have a loving relationship with myself. And surrounding me at home, I have nine, rambunctious, beautiful lovebirds.

TO EVERYONE READING THIS

Be open to considering that life can be different. Willingness to consider that possibility is the first step. Secrets are the core being of our addictions. They are so insidious. The more we can share and talk about our traumas, the healthier we become. Know that you're not alone.