Jess Crow is widely known for her captivating artistic woodworking. With a national epoxy line, sold-out classes across the country, and work in restaurants and offices worldwide, she has quickly become the leading expert on epoxy within the woodworking world. Jess is also an abuse survivor who grew up in remote Alaska on a secluded homestead. After 12 years of sexual abuse by her biological father and grandfather, she found her voice. She sent them both to jail to protect the younger girls in her family. Growing up in small-town Alaska and having two family members sentenced for sexual abuse was not easy. Jess turned to drinking, drugs, and self-harm to self medicate through the pain. Jess then became pregnant with her first daughter at 16 and had to learn how to overcome the cycle of abuse and drugs– this is part of her story.
What was it like surviving drug abuse?
Growing up in remote Alaska, then sending my biological father and grandfather to jail for sexual abuse and remaining in the same small community was challenging. To cope with not only the abuse, but the “small town talk”, I turned to drinking, drugs, and sex to feel something besides shame and sadness. Anything to mask the pain was what I was doing by the time I was 13. I was also not living at home and bouncing from couch to couch; anywhere, I could have a roof over my head. I met the father of my three daughters’ when I was 14 and then became pregnant when I was 16. I was at a precipice– do I carry this pregnancy and find this baby a home, not with me? Or do I show this child what love is? I opted to show (what would be my first daughter) her a world filled with love. I took my pregnancy as a way to right so many wrongs in my life. I stopped smoking, drinking, and doing drugs the day that test came back positive. It wasn’t easy, and frequently I wanted to not deal with my own emotions and fears and fall back into the paths I knew would numb the pain. Then I would think of the baby I was carrying and how I knew I had to give her a better life. She saved me. All three of them did.
What was it like being pregnant at the age of 16? Do you feel it slowed you down at all?
Becoming pregnant at 16 was terrible. In Fairbanks, Alaska, doctors were brutally mean and ‘expected’ me to follow the path of destruction and abuse that my biological family had blazed. I ended up moving from Fairbanks when I was 5 months pregnant to Anchorage. I met an outstanding physician who not only cared for my growing belly but my still immature mind. She helped me find parenting classes and other older mothers who acted as mentors. In 1995 teen moms were still extremely shunned and not supported in most ways. Having one person, my physician, helped me through a terrifying point in my life. As for slowing me down, it did in weird ways. One, making friends was a lost cause. When she started school, I was 19. All the other moms thought I was her older sister, which further prevented me from finding others to relate too: how do you get a toddler to eat breakfast? How do I best help her with her homework? How do I teach her this? I felt very alone, and yes, I thought I was slower to learn some of those tasks. But I think it also made me a better parent. I wasn’t bogged down with an abundance of advice to weed through. It allowed me to be the best I could be for her, not for other people.
How were you able to break the cycle of abuse?
Fear. That is how I was able to break the cycle of abuse. I was afraid that my biological father and grandfather were going to abuse my younger sister. I didn’t know any better for myself, but the thought of her struggling was enough to make me open my eyes that it wasn’t normal. I had already tried to commit suicide and was an avid “cutter.” The thought of losing my sister to the pain I was in was enough to make me speak up. Further down the line, fear of becoming “that useless teen mom” was what drove me to become the best mom I could be.
What is some advice you have for someone going through drug abuse?
Even in my highest moments, I had small snippets of clarity. Hold onto that moment in your head– the one that says, “you can do better…” Take that moment and run with it. Hold onto it with every fiber of your being and align yourself with someone who will hold you accountable for your actions and words. You’re not always going to like them; you may hate them at times but trust them. Allow yourself to be scared and angry; allow yourself to rage and cry. Then let yourself forgive…yourself. Until you find a way to forgive yourself above all else, drugs, drinking, sex, and unhealthy relationships will find a way to be in control. Find something (positive) before something finds you.
