
Michelle Steele grew up in Cartersville as a pastor's daughter, became an LPN, and then spent about six years caught in addiction. Today she's a peer support specialist at Recovery Bartow, meeting people at Piedmont Cartersville in some of their hardest moments, and she's finishing a psychology degree at Liberty University. For years she kept her story quiet. About a year ago, she says, God told her it was time to stop being quiet and tell people what He'd done for her. This episode, brought to us in partnership with Cartersville Living magazine, is her telling it.
From Illinois to Cartersville
Michelle was born in Harvey, Illinois, near Chicago, which gave her and Logan (born in Champaign) an instant bond. Her family moved to Florida, then to Cleveland, Tennessee, so her dad could attend Lee University, and finally to Cartersville when he took a job at what was then Cartersville Church of God. She was 12. She graduated from Excel Christian Academy in a class of eight, went on to nursing school, earned her LPN, and worked at Cartersville Medical Center for about seven years. She was, in her words, "a very serious rule follower."
How it started
Michelle's addiction didn't start at high school parties. She was a working nurse and a mom. Her oldest son had health issues when he was little, so she worked nights and kept him home during the day, and she started taking diet pills to stay awake. A friend introduced her to something stronger. At first it was occasional, then daily, and after a layoff she started spending her days with the people she used with. She'd get clean each time she found out she was pregnant, then go back. Looking back, she says it always came down to the people: "You have to change your people, places, and things." She still prays for friends from that time who are still out there. Michelle also doesn't blame anyone else. "It was my bad choices that got me in the mess," she said. "God didn't want me to. He thought, no, I have a better plan for you. But I was stubborn."
The arrest that saved her life
By 2015, things were at their worst, and her parents went to court for temporary custody of her children. Michelle was furious, skipped the court date, and was picked up on December 23rd, her dad's birthday. She later learned her dad, who she thought hated her at the time, had been quietly keeping track of where she was because he loved her. Sitting in jail over Christmas with nothing to do but read the Bible, she prayed: "God, I might never see my kids again. But if you'll help me change my life, I'm okay with it." After four months in jail, she was sentenced to a year-long program at New Beginnings, a faith-based women's rehab near Toccoa.
Thirteen church services a week
During the phone interview, New Beginnings told her she'd be in church 13 times a week. "It's a lot of church, but it's better than prison," she remembers thinking. It turned out to be exactly what she needed. The program is run by a director everyone calls Granny, a fiery redhead who went through addiction herself. Michelle worked at an AutoZone distribution center, took classes, went to Celebrate Recovery, and dusted her room every single morning because it got inspected. Her family visited every other Saturday, and she eventually moved into the mothers' dorm, where her kids could spend weekends and her youngest, who was three months old when she went to jail, could stay with her for weeks at a time. She graduated in 2017 and says that time with God is what made the difference.
God restores
Back home, Michelle kept life simple: church, home, and work. She spent five years at Bamford and Company, a home builder, but her heart was in healthcare, and her nursing license had long since expired. For a while, she admits, she kept punishing herself, telling herself she'd never get that life back. Then she applied for a part-time job at Floyd Medical Center, passed the background check, and was hired. She went full time as an ER secretary and earned her CNA. A little over two years later, Recovery Bartow emailed her about a job. She'd looked into recovery work before but never followed through, so she told God that if He really wanted her there, He'd have to work it all out. He did. Next, she's two semesters away from a bachelor's in psychology with a focus on addiction, after finding out her old credits put her only a year from finishing. She doesn't want to be clinical, she said. She wants to be relational.
Rebuilding trust with her kids
Michelle has been open and honest with each of her four kids, one at a time. Her oldest, who's now a firefighter in Bartow County, remembered the most, and their healing took a lot of apologies and a lot of showing up, one day at a time. Today she calls him her buddy. She's taught her younger kids what to look out for and told them to always call and ask her about anything. One recent moment brought tears to both her and Logan's eyes: after Michelle joked that she wanted to be like a sweet older lady they saw, her daughter said the person she wants to be when she grows up is Michelle.
Connection is the opposite of addiction
As a peer support specialist, Michelle isn't there to tell anyone what to do. People in addiction have had plenty of that. She's there to listen and walk alongside them, because what worked for her won't work for everyone. Her favorite moment so far was when a woman she'd gotten close to, who thought she'd never see her daughter again, walked in and said she'd get to see her the next week. "Redemption is for anyone," Michelle said. Her message to anyone who feels hopeless: "There is another way. Connection is the opposite of addiction." In the rapid-fire round, she picked Sweet Home Alabama as her favorite movie (the second guest in a row to do so), booked Carrie Underwood, Kenny Chesney and Jelly Roll for a dream Cartersville show, and said she recharges with Amish fiction from Ollie's.
Listen to the Full Conversation
Michelle and Logan also talk about being the new kid at school, what a typical day in jail really looks like, going back to college at 43, and her love of Wheel of Fortune. Her morning drive? Being there for her kids no matter what, and helping other people find their way through. Recovery Bartow is open 9 to 5, Monday through Friday, at 319 East Cherokee Avenue in Cartersville. They can help with support, jobs, housing and monthly sober activities. Learn more at recoverybartow.org. Watch or listen to the full episode below.
Listen to Episode #532
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