“Financial freedom is one of the biggest things a woman can have. When I was in the addiction world, men ruled everything I ever did. They don’t do that today.”
TW: Graphic language, addiction, abuse
The sunshine blinded Ramona after 48 hours inside the downtown Phoenix jail. She had been arrested again and there was no denying the drugs found in her possession. The arrest was a familiar situation for her, one she’d experienced multiple times in the last 20 years as a heroin addict.
“Normally, when I would get out from the downtown [jail], I would hit the ground running, hustling, getting high,” Ramona shares.
This time around, her walk out of the jail looked different.
“My family was there waiting for me. My sons stepped off the sidewalk, and I saw them and my mom. And I knew I had someone there for me. So, I went home.”
Ramona still had drugs in her possession when she returned home with her family, but breaking her usual pattern, she didn’t hit the streets, and she never used again. The last day she ever used heroin was June 27, 2014. Ramona followed through with her sobriety, even as her court case continued and she was sentenced to six-and-a-half years in prison.
“I didn’t connect the dots at that point, but looking back, I can see it,” Ramona reflects, considering one of the pivotal turning points in her story. “In that moment, if [my family] hadn’t been there, who knows what would’ve happened. But they came out, and it was like, ‘Mom, we’re here.’ How many times had I gotten out, and no one was there?” She knew she needed a change.
The Road to Addiction
From early childhood, as part of a military family, Ramona moved around constantly. She can’t recall her best friend’s name from elementary school; her family wasn’t around long enough. Before she was 10 years old, doctors recorded that she had over 150 falls, a telltale sign of the physical abuse that she suffered at home.
“I got really rebellious. I met my ex-husband when I was 12; I was pregnant by the time I was 14. But I married him at 17, so I thought everything was okay.”
As the newlyweds continued to grow up together, they also raised their children. At one point, Ramona discovered that her husband had cheated on her and she kicked him out of their home. She changed the locks to ensure he was gone for good, but he took the separation one step further.
“I didn’t know to clear the bank account and things like that; he took me off our joint bank account so fast. I didn’t have a way to pay rent, so I looked in the job ads and found one that would pay $500 a night. I wondered, ‘Doing what?’ and it was stripping.”
Ramona took the job and recalled that it seemed simple enough at first: go in, wear a cute costume, dance for 15 minutes, and get paid.
Her occupation and the addiction that would soon follow, however, left deep scars throughout her life, especially on those who had a front-row seat to the destruction: her two sons.
“I was a stripper, and they could tell when I was going to work some days because they’d see the stripper outfit and then another outfit go over it. They hated it. They saw how it killed me; how it changed me.”
After working for some time, another woman in the business approached her about other roles.
“She said, ‘Aren’t you tired of dancing for dollars? Do you want to know how to make $100 and not even take your clothes off?’ I was in. She introduced me to her pimp, who I later worked for, and I learned about that street life. It was one of the worst decisions I ever made in my life—it really was.”
Ramona started regularly using cocaine and heroin. Eventually, she became homeless and then she lost custody of her children. After becoming an addict, she was tossed out of her living situation—once again, Ramona had no income.
Still using drugs, jobless, and homeless, Ramona also found herself in a new, extremely abusive relationship.
“I had told him that I wanted to leave him and I got up to leave, but he proceeded to beat me until he thought he killed me. He threw me in an alley, bloodied.”
When Ramona woke up, she couldn’t recall where she was, the day of the week, or how long she’ d been in the alley. She had only one thing at the forefront of her mind: “I was so strung out; all I wanted to do when I woke up was go and get high. I had blood all over me and my clothes, but it didn’t matter.”
Addiction consumed her: the life she led sent her through multiple arrests and a couple of prison stints. Ramona was arrested one last time in June 2014 and this time—as she was released and awaiting her sentencing—her family was waiting for her outside the gates of the downtown Phoenix jail.
“I took that last hit [of drugs after my last arrest] and it just didn’t ring the same anymore; it didn’t do it for me. I wasn’t so far strung out on heroin yet as I’d been before: laid out, throwing up…this time, I knew I needed to stop and was going to stop. And I did.”
Serving Time
Recently sober, Ramona worked to set new personal boundaries to avoid relapse while serving her 6.5-year sentence. It required a rewiring for Ramona, who, in the past, would partake in the drug use around her to avoid accusations of being a snitch. In prison, she learned to say no despite what others thought of her.
“I don’t care what you say about me. You keep your stuff going on over there. If you don’t want me to see it, get better at hiding it.” Ramona shares, reflecting on her time in prison and the pressure to use drugs by other inmates. “I had to set boundaries to not get easily sucked in. That was a reality.”
As her journey to recovery continued, Ramona and her fellow inmates would hear about other women dying due to drug overdose within 24 hours of release from prison. It was shocking to her.
“All it took was one of those pills, or however they did it. One and done. It was horrible.”
Ramona worked through an addiction recovery program and after hearing the stories of how addiction affected the lives of so many other women, she was inspired: she wanted to help.
Ramona started reading anything she could find on recovery, took classes, and earned over 160 college credits.
To further prepare herself for life outside of prison, Ramona also enrolled in a work program with Hickman’s Family Farms, one of the largest egg companies in the Southwest, located in Buckeye.
She recalled working in a barn one day, shoveling in “the pit,” where she met one of the owners.
“He ran around like the undercover boss; you would think he was just working with you, and that became a very valuable relationship in my life because he saw the potential in me and that I wanted to do the right thing.”
Through her connections at Hickman’s, Ramona learned the importance of holding the same job, building a reliable work history, and saving money.
“After I developed a work history and had those tools, [I wondered] if I could teach those tools to women who want them,” Ramona shared, “it could empower them to have a stable home for their children. Do you know how many women I met who want their kids back?”
It became clear to Ramona that she had regained more of her power by understanding and honing these aspirations and core values. These were the tools she knew she could share with others.
A Fresh Start
When her release date arrived and she left prison, Ramona retained her job at Hickman’s. There, she continued to learn about the barns, the chickens, the operating plants, cleaning and sanitation, and processing. For three years after her release, she held the position as a Compliance Specialist.
“Hickman’s Family Farms Workforce Re-Entry program [helped me a lot] because I walked out of prison with a job and not many people do. That makes recidivism very high because if you can’t get a job, then you usually go back to what you know.”
With her recent release, Ramona continued her education at Rio Salado Community College and eventually attained an associate’s degree. She was ready to focus her efforts on her long-awaited goal of becoming a licensed addiction counselor and, in December 2024, came to Fresh Start for support.
“I called Fresh Start and said, ‘I need a job. Well, I have a job, but I want to go towards my career. I don’t know how to get into the [addiction recovery] field because I’ve been in prison for so long,’” Ramona reflects, “I had a criminal history and I didn’t have any connections.”
Ramona quickly enrolled in Fresh Start’s success coaching and career advising programs. Teaming up with Fresh Start staff, Ramona hit the ground running: updating her resume, learning technology skills, honing her professionalism skills, and finally, applying to new jobs.
One of the biggest challenges for Ramona was learning how to manage her own money.
“Ever since I was 12 years old with my husband and even in the streets with my man, I never managed my own money. I never made my own decisions, so now that I have the financial freedom to make my own decisions, I want to do them accurately and with a purpose and a plan.”
Ramona valued Fresh Start’s one-on-one success coaching program for meeting her exactly where she was on her career journey: no judgment, simply a helping hand to take her next step.
“I like how success coaching is present and person-centered,” says Ramona. “I deal with my issues, how to overcome them, and decide how to move forward. I’m working on professionalism, keeping things in order, and helping people. It’s healing because I haven’t done it before: I’ve never experienced the real wholeness in who I am.”
As the sole caregiver for her two aging parents, Ramona felt especially grateful for the flexible appointments with her success coach. With this important support, Ramona flourished.
“If I don’t have time in my work week or from running errands [with my parents], she’s online…She’s so supportive and she understands life happens. It just does.”
Through success coaching at Fresh Start, Ramona applied for a full-time position at New Freedom, a local organization that aims to support successful reintegration for justice-involved individuals in the Phoenix area. She was one step closer to achieving her dream.
“I uploaded my resume and I was nervous. I thought to myself, ‘I don’t know if this is even going to work.’ I got the call and did an interview over the phone—the first one. Then I went in for a panel interview and I have the job today.”
It was bittersweet to put in her two-week notice at Hickman’s Family Farms.
“They joked, ‘Can you give six months’ notice?’ They knew I’d been going to school for counseling for a while, but it was hard because I’d been with them for so long. They’ve been supportive all the way through…It’s like I left a part of my family back there.”
Ramona started her career at New Freedom as a Vocational Electives Specialist, a position that allows her to serve as a role model to peers, exhibiting competency in personal recovery and use of coping skills, especially related to workplace re-entry. She also aimed to continue her education to become a licensed addiction counselor, a credential that requires years of schooling.
Thinking about her upcoming education, Ramona recalled her first time cleaning barns the size of football fields at Hickman’s.
“You’d get to your 12th hour [of working] and there’s still all that to go. Your foreman would tell you to stop because it can’t all be done in a day. I learned that concept in life: everything isn’t going to be done in a day. My education is not done in a day.”
Most importantly, Ramona felt on-track to healing her relationships with her two sons, both of whom are now adults and creating their own families.
“Now that they’re older, even their wives tell me, ‘We’re so glad you’re here because they’re healing.’ The pain I put them through, not knowing where I am, worrying if I’m dead—I hurt my kids in a way that should never have been done. But we’re healing.”
Ramona’s Fresh Start story is a powerful reminder of what resilience, perseverance, and second chances can achieve. Now a Fresh Start advocate for other women navigating their own reintegration, her story continues to inspire.
Transforming addiction and adversity into healing, hope, and the promise of a new future for herself and her family, Ramona’s journey to self-sufficiency highlights the power of what is possible with a fresh start.