I WAS A PROSTITUTE AND CRACK ADDICT--AND I SURVIVED.

I never set out to sell myself on the streets. In fact, I grew up in a middle-class neighborhood in the Cincinnati suburbs. I went to Catholic school and participated in sports, was a Girl Scout, and sang in the church choir until eighth grade. But during my freshman year in high school, one of my girlfriends came over with a bottle of wine, and we got drunk. Alcohol made me feel social and funny when before I felt out of place and awkward. I started showing up to school drunk and got kicked out. I ran away from home and partied with older kids who had their own apartments--and access to lots of drugs and alcohol.

When I was 16, a guy at a party offered me $200 to have sex with him. I knew it was wrong, but so was everything else I was doing, So I did it. At another party, I met a man who said he could make me a singer, so I moved to Las Vegas to sing at nightclubs. As far as I knew, that was the place where singers became famous. I really wanted to hit the big time, and It was thrilling to Imagine that I actually could. But I wasn't earning enough money as a singer to support myself, and I remembered how easy it was to make fast cash by having sex. I Justified getting Into prostitution by telling myself that there was nothing wrong with doing It now since I knew I was going to be somebody someday.

Soon. I was on a downward spiral, doing acid, cocaine, and heroin, and having unprotected sex. I partied more than I sang, and blew all my earnings getting high. I went back to Cincinnati at age 20, determined to clean up. But I began living the same pattern of drugs, alcohol, and prostitution. I got involved with the wrong people and even went to Jag for receiving stolen property. While I was in prison. I gave birth to a boy, whose father was a nameless, faceless client. My parents came and picked up my son, and during the next three-and-a-half years behind bars, all I could think about was my child and changing my ways. How did I end up here?

When I got out of jail, I boarded a bus and imagined holding my son in my arms. Then another thought came to mind: I hadn't had a drink in three years. I'd just stop and have one drink before returning home. But with that one drink, I spiraled back into my destructive lifestyle. Three years later, I gave birth to my daughter--fathered by another anonymous client. After my parents took her away, I lost my will to change, or even to live. I wanted so desperately to be a good mother, but my drug addiction had taken over my mind and my life.

By this time, I was 33, homeless, and strung out on crack. Then one night, I was getting high in an abandoned building, and as I took a hit of crack the room seemed to light up, as If someone had flashed a camera. I saw what I had become, and I was disgusted. My hair was greased to my head, and I'd been wearing the same clothing for three weeks, In front of me, women were turning tricks; men were fighting over crack pipes. I dropped to my knees and asked God to help me. Then I walked to a nearby recovery center and never looked back.

Since then, I've received my GED and a certificate In addiction studies from the University of Cincinnati, and I'm working toward my bachelor's degree in the same field. I've even been able to make amends with my grown children, though our relationship remains distant. Now, I work at a Cincinnati-based program called Off the Streets, which helps women get clean. Since we opened last year, 50 women have been helped, some of whom I know from my days on the streets. They say to me, "If you could do it, then I can do It, too." it's very humbling, but hearing their stories brings back memories of a life that I wish I could forget.