I believe in one’s life there are a few defining, pivotal moments that play a crucial role in determining what road one may go down, eventually shaping them into their truest self. And depending on the choices we make, we may end up travelling along a dark, winding street to failure or a brightly-lit path to success.

In my life, the most notable of these critical moments took place January 22, 2015. It started like any other day that month. I had woken up and was ready to manipulate my father, as per the usual. I would tell him I needed to get cigarettes, or hair products, or something of that nature from Walgreen’s, which was conveniently and coincidentally located right next to the liquor store. I would walk in and my two bottles of Pinot Noir would be waiting for me.

But this day was different. I woke up to my dad getting back home from buying me breakfast and my mom pacing around frantically. A black SUV pulled up in our driveway and the next thing I know I’m sitting with both my parents in our living room and a 24-year old interventionist. He was telling me his story of recovery and what a magical and wonderful thing it was to live a life of sobriety. It all went in one ear and out the other, until he said something that made both ears perk up. “Well, your parents and I...