National Women Touched by Addiction Day
Breaking the Silence: Women, Addiction, and the Stories We’re Afraid to Hear
Addiction is often seen as a personal failure—a moral flaw, a weakness, or a lack of self-control. But what happens when we stop asking “what’s wrong with her?” and instead ask, “what happened to her?” For women impacted by domestic abuse, sexual violence, exploitation, and racism, addiction is rarely the beginning of the story. More often, it is a response to years of pain, neglect, and survival.
National Women Touched by Addiction Day gives us space to challenge the myths surrounding women and substance use. It asks us to listen—not just to statistics or headlines, but to the women whose voices are too often pushed aside. And for Anah Project, it’s a day to recommit to the work of meeting women with compassion, not condemnation.
The intersections we ignore
Most addiction services were designed with men in mind. They often fail to recognise how women’s pathways into addiction are shaped by trauma, poverty, and gender-based violence. Many of the women Anah Project supports have experienced repeated abuse—from partners, families, strangers, institutions. Some women we have supported were coerced into using substances by abusers. Others turned to alcohol or drugs as a way to numb the aftermath of trauma.
When these women seek help, they are met with suspicion. They are labelled “unstable,” “non-compliant,” “unfit”. Instead of care, they encounter shame. Instead of safety, they risk losing their children. Instead of being asked what support they need, they are given ultimatums—clean up or be left behind.
This stigma is especially harsh for Black and minoritised women, who face racial bias in health and social care systems. Stereotypes of the “angry Black woman,” the “neglectful mother,” or the “ungrateful migrant” create real harm, fuelling misdiagnoses, harsher responses, and a reluctance to seek help in the first place.
From punishment to healing
Addiction is not just a health issue—it’s a justice issue. Too many women are criminalised for behaviours that are directly linked to trauma and survival. We send them to prison when what they need is therapy. We remove their children rather than provide family support. We prioritise abstinence over safety.
At Anah Project, we see things differently. We recognise that recovery is not linear, and that harm-reduction saves lives. We support women who are actively using, as well as those who are navigating recovery in their own way and at their own pace. We create spaces where there is no shame in relapsing, in asking for help, or in needing time.
Above all, we make it clear: you are not your addiction. You are not defined by what you’ve used, how you’ve coped, or how long you’ve struggled. You are worthy of dignity, care, and recovery.
Women who rewrite their stories
Every woman’s recovery looks different. For some, it starts with safety—a place to rest without judgement. For others, it begins with someone simply believing them. We’ve supported women who’ve found healing through poetry, through prayer, through parenting, through activism. One woman who joined a peer support group went on to train as a support worker herself. Another began running creative workshops for young women at risk. These stories are not exceptions. They are reminders of what becomes possible when we meet women with empathy and resources—not barriers.
Recovery is not just personal—it is political. It challenges the systems that punish survivors instead of supporting them. It asks us to move away from binary ideas of “clean” or “dirty,” and towards an understanding that every small act of survival is worth celebrating.
A Call to Listen, Learn, and Act
This National Women Touched by Addiction Day, we are asking: what are we doing to make recovery more possible for minoritised women? Are we funding trauma-informed services? Are we challenging harmful narratives? Are we supporting organisations that walk alongside women without judgement?
We also ask you to consider your own part in dismantling stigma. What assumptions do we carry about women who use substances? What language do we use—publicly and privately—when we speak about addiction?
Most importantly, we invite you to centre the voices of women with lived experience. They are not cautionary tales. They are leaders, carers, artists, workers, mothers, survivors. And they deserve a recovery that honours their full humanity.
