I recognize that I access recovery services and support from a place of privilege. I self-identify as a white, cisgender, hetero, able-bodied, educated, feminist woman in recovery.
I'm also Canadian, which means that in addition to being incredibly polite (you are probably familiar with the stereotype), I have access to health care and a supportive social safety net. My nationality is another form of privilege.
Over the years, I have been the recipient of welfare, free addiction treatment (though that's not much of a thing in Canada anymore), and excellent universal medical care to get me through a range of health care crises, including addiction, depressive and anxiety disorders, and cancer. Recognizing privilege does not place any blame on me as a recipient.
But recognizing it means that when I view others who are not as privileged as I am, but who are facing similar challenges as I have, I understand that they are likely also facing additional challenges that I haven't. If those of us who are able to do so offer more help—or even remove barriers to accessing help—we can make a big difference in the lives of other women seeking recovery.
The first step is admitting my privilege—what comes next is up to me.