When Nicole and Chuck met, as children, they were drawn to each other, magnetically. He, with his sideways smile. She, always looking over her shoulder. They got each other. They had a connection that went beyond understanding.

 As they grew older, whenever they entered each other‘s homes, they knew to expect the unexpected. There was no wishing for something different. They were all too familiar with each other’s chaos. His mother was addicted. Her mother drank way too much. Nicole and Blank each sensed destruction ahead. And they found solace in each other’s understanding. If they needed to talk, they knew where to find each other. When there were no words, they allowed each other’s silence. “We felt like we only had each other,” she recalled.

They knew their paths would continue to merge, as long as they could. 

That was until Chuck turned 37, when he died from an overdose.

Nicole fell into a tailspin. She thought she had more time to help him. Why, why, why? He left her with so many questions. And she got lost inside of them. Buried inside her questions, she wondered, What could possibly be so enticing about heroin that he would give everything up for it? 

In her despair, she decided the only way to find out was to try heroin herself.

That’s how Nicole Tenuto lost herself. 

She found out how heroin could take her to a place where she didn’t feel the pain anymore. It was like an escape hatch. “Like I was floating above it all,” she said. At first, Nicole welcomed that feeling. 

“I don’t want to glamorize that,” she quickly said. “Because things got out of control real fast. I used to have my own house, a good job, and my kids. I lost it all. And I lost myself. I became homeless, and I was living on the streets of Camden, which is a very dangerous place. I’m lucky I made it out alive. I rubbed shoulders with death so many times. Dealing to support my habit, I was regularly in the crossfire of shootings. Once I was sitting next to someone who was shot and killed. I can’t tell you how many overdoses I saw. I had a warrant, so I was constantly trying to avoid the police. After a while, it becomes some kind of strange normal. It doesn’t faze you, because the drugs numb you. That was my life for five years.”

Then she became pregnant.

“I was at a point where I had to choose: What can I live without? And I knew I could not live without my daughter. So I had to live without drugs,” Nicole reflected.

She went through detox, then a residential treatment program, while knowing that the New Jersey Division of Child Protection and Permanency would take her daughter after she  was born to live with a Resource Family, who would  provide care and could play a supportive role in reunification.

Meanwhile, Nicole reached out to Thomasine Gaines at For My Baby and Me, an innovative program in which the Rescue Mission of Trenton has partnered with Capital Health, HomeFront, Catholic Charities and Trenton Health Team to provide long-term recovery as well as ongoing medical care, counseling and support for women who are struggling with addiction and their children. 

Nicole said that Thomasine, who has lived experience in overcoming poverty and addiction, “first helped by talking me through the emotions I was feeling. Then she assured me by saying, ‘I was there. You are going to get through this. It is going to be very challenging. I will be there with you, though, through every step of the way.’ Then she prepared me for what would be coming next.”

Thomasine, a certified peer recovery specialist at The Mission, shared, “I have a deep hole in my arm from shooting heroin. It an insidious drug that will capture you. So, I come from a place of knowing. And of understanding. And the women know that I am there for one reason – to help them and their baby. I tell them, Wherever you go, you’re still going to take you with you. You don’t live outside. Your live inside. So, that’s where you have to work. On the inside.’”

The inside is where Nicole has been working, learning about her grit, patience, belief in herself, trust of others, and how having a purpose can change everything. She prevailed through the understandably demanding and lengthy process of weekly supervised visits with her daughter becoming unsupervised; then overnight visits extended to weekends; to, at last, being granted custody of her daughter Valentina.

In July, Nicole started working at The Mission, where she is a member of The Mission’s Outreach Project, traveling to places where people struggling with addiction are known to congregate. She and her colleagues offer everyone they meet a cup of coffee, something to eat, a caring conversation, a deep level of trust – and, if the individual is ready, medication to help with recovery, access to healthcare, and shelter from their personal storms.

“What I am doing now feels like a purpose,” she said. “I understand where someone who is struggling with addiction is coming from. It makes it easier for them to open up to me – because I’ve been through it. And I’m here to let someone who is struggling know that if recovery can happen to me, it can happen to you.”

Meanwhile, Nicole and Valentina are temporarily staying at HomeFront, while Nicole has been looking for affordable housing, and a car. “I have a car, but the transmission is going, along with other parts. For now, I’m very grateful that Thomasine has offered to drive me back and forth to Recovery Court each week,” she said. “I’ve gone through the hardest part now, which is getting my daughter back. I’m sure the rest will somehow work out.”