‘’What are you going to do, CiCi?’’ my friend asked.

I was still half drunk, missing my purse and my phone, sitting on her front porch smoking a Marlboro Light. I was due to fly across the ocean in a matter of days and wouldn’t be back for 6 months. I knew my demons would be on that plane with me.

What was I going to do?

I’d already survived so much: childhood abuse, the illness and passing of my mother when I was nineteen, and a seven year abusive relationship where I almost lost my life. I’d come too far to give up now. 

I just needed to figure it out. 

Getting sober is just not drinking. Recovering is another animal. 

Suddenly, I was feeling emotions I’d buried for years. I was finally mourning my mother 6 years after her passing. I was realizing the systematic abuse I’d endured for 7 years. I was working through my shit, for which drinking was merely a symptom. 

I was writing.

I wrote poetry, short stories, and journal entries. I wrote during panic attacks, for my 12 step program, for my therapist. I shared what I was going through. I published a poetry anthology. I started a community for people like me.

Sometimes, I can hear my mom’s voice in my head. She tells me ‘’You’re on the right track. Keep going.’’ And I do.

It took me almost 30 years to find my life’s purpose, although it was under my nose all along. I’ve been writing since I could hold a pen, and have shared my story publicly since 2012. 

If I can use my experiences and talents to help others, in a way, that makes what I’ve been through worth it. 

Now, I hear my mom’s voice all the time. 

I’m on the right track.

To book me to speak to your community, on your podcast, or at your event, check out the Speaking & Press page to learn more and get in touch.

Rest In Peace Melissa Reagan-Smith

Gone, but forever in our hearts.