A Houseplant, a Forgotten Reveal, and a Room Full of People Who Refuse to Be a Glum Lot

The Glam Lot PDX puts on drag shows to raise money for charity — organizations like the Trevor Project. No bar, no drinks. Just a room full of people in recovery and a lot of wigs. Becca, Bex, and Carrington joined us at True Colors on a Saturday to talk about why fun isn't optional in sobriety. It's the whole point.

Becca co-founded the Glam Lot with Carrington. If you've been listening a while, you might remember her from Episode 18 — a lot's changed since then. She got into drag during the pandemic, watching YouTube tutorials and falling down a rabbit hole of makeup artists and performers. She did her first Glam Lot show recently and, in her own words, forgot she had a reveal. The audience didn't care. They were too busy cheering.

Nothing's wasted. Not even the hard parts.

What do you do with the grief when your sponsor of 26 years is gone, and you still have to show up tomorrow?

Jen L. is back. Part 2 picks up where Part 1 left off. Tammy died two years ago on a Wednesday, and Jen is only now beginning to put words to what that means. She had 26 years of a sponsor who walked beside her and knew everything. And then Tammy was gone.

This isn't about loss as an ending. It's about what a sponsor plants in you. What she left behind.

A Parking Spot, a 150-Foot Cross, and the House She Hadn't Used In

Jen L. was sixty days sober and absolutely furious. She was on the fence — one direction led to a drink, the other to a meeting. The parking spot decided it. She walked in, heard everything she needed, and picked up her sixty-day chip. That was nearly three decades ago, and she hasn't stopped coming back since.

This is Part 1 of a two-part conversation on the Real Recovery Podcast, and if you've ever wondered what keeps someone in the rooms for twenty-nine years, Jen's story holds some answers. She's been Julie's friend since 1997, when she walked into Lunch Bunch as the second woman in a room full of men. Julie was the first. They've been walking this road together ever since.

He Named It, Then He Buried It

Six years old, choking on something, and his father handed him a beer. That was Devlin F.'s introduction to alcohol. By 24, he was smoking meth. By his late twenties, he was living on the streets of San Francisco's Tenderloin, running a system with his then-partner to rob people for drug money. By his early thirties, a needle was the only thing that made sense.

And then, in August of 2023, he stood at the edge and saw only two choices: find a new way to live, or jump off a bridge.

We've been doing this podcast long enough to know that every recovery story has a moment like this — a hinge. What sets Devlin's apart is what he did after he got sober. He did something we've never heard anyone do before: he gave his addiction a name. Bradley. His own government first name. And then he buried it.

Hope Is a Person. Sometimes That Person Is a Peer Mentor. — "We're Here to Love You Until You Can Love Yourself"

That's what Luciano Nicolas heard on July 3rd — standing in a detox hallway, ready to walk out. His peer mentor said it. One sentence. And Luciano stayed.

We recorded Episode 120 of the Real Recovery Podcast live at True Colors Recovery in Portland, and it was unlike anything we have done before. Three guests — Luciano Nicolas from Atlas Treatment Center, Ebony Brawley from 4D Recovery, and Jack Taylor from True Colors Recovery — sat down with us to talk about peer services. Not what they are on paper. What they actually feel like.

She went in not sure she had a problem. She came out with her people.

What does it take to build a life in recovery — not just stay sober, but actually find your people, set real limits, and feel like yourself again?

That's the question Cassandra P. spends the better part of an hour answering in this episode, and we're still thinking about parts of it. If you heard Part 1 last week, you know how she grew up inside recovery — AA meetings from age five, a home built on honesty — and still ended up in addiction at 32. Part 2 is what happened after she finally walked through the doors of Another Chance in Portland.

She went in May 2024, not fully convinced she had a problem. She graduated six months later. Between those two dates, she did IOP five days a week, found a counselor named Julia through DBT who became her favorite person in the program, and discovered something she hadn't felt since high school — a real sense of belonging. "Another Chance has been good for you," her counselor Jerry told her at graduation, "but you've been good for Another Chance."