I used to believe success was about titles and accolades. About walking through life unbothered and sharp, juggling everything with a flawless smile—strong, composed, and always in control. The kind of success they applauded in performance evaluations and praised in group texts. It looked polished o...

Somewhere between coming home from the military and trying to “adjust” to the civilian world, many of us realize—we never stopped surviving.

We may have taken off the uniform, but we didn’t leave the sense of urgency behind. We may have put down the bottle, but the need to stay in control, stay bus...

When you think of a veteran struggling with alcohol use, what image comes to mind?

For most people, it’s not a Black woman.

Black women veterans often navigate a unique intersection of challenges—bearing the weight of military service, societal expectations, and the journey toward sobriety. While ...

For years, I wore two uniforms—the one the military issued me and the one I stitched together in silence. I wore a smile when I was unraveling and reached for the bottle when I needed something to soothe my invisible pain. It wasn’t just the missions or the role as an air traffic controller that wor...

Dear God:

We did it — Today we’re 18 years sober! (Whaaaaaaat???!!!) 

The past year was filled with themes of grief, perseverance, self-discovery, the celebration of life, and a closer, deeper relationship with You. 

These same themes were planted into my foundation of faith during my first three...

I’ll never forget that Monday in July 2007.

I got up, starched and pressed my uniform… and realized I had nowhere to go.

I wasn’t in the military anymore — but there I was, still moving like I was. I had signed my discharge papers. I had even told friends and family I was out.

Just days earlier, ...

In early sobriety, everything feels unfamiliar. Time moves slowly. Emotions rise without warning. And you start to wonder if you're doing it “right”. I remember those first 90 days like a blurry photograph—my body showing up, my spirit unsure. I was weary, confused, and quietly desperate for somethi...

When I woke up this morning, I found myself reflecting on the elorasong experience. What it took to birth her. What it has meant to coddle her, nurture, and believe in her. What it has cost—and what it continues to teach me. Aside from my journey in sobriety, she is the greatest mirror I’ve ever hel...

A few years ago, someone asked me why I started this business—what made me choose recovery coaching and advocacy for Black women veterans. 

elorasong was created so she doesn’t have to walk this path alone. So she can see someone who gets it, who’s lived it. Someone who will never ask her to shrink...

Let’s keep it real. 

Encouragement is beautiful. Affirmations are necessary. However (comma), in my recovery journey, what caught my attention wasn’t just the “one day at a time” slogans or the perfectly curated quotes and spoken word reels from popular folks on social media. Fun fact: Back in 2007...

In November of 2020, I was prescribed an emotional support animal. At the time, it wasn’t what I wanted to hear—and definitely not what I thought I needed. I wasn’t prepared to fully digest the weight of the diagnosis: major depression, military sexual trauma, and a few other things I thought I had ...

There’s a moment—silent but seismic—when the boots come off for the last time. The uniform is folded, the structure dissolves, and suddenly, you’re left with space. But that space doesn’t always feel like freedom. It can feel like loss. That’s the part no one talks about. The moment where your exter...