What Happens When a Good Kid Chooses the Streets

 

We like to believe that addiction, homelessness, or prostitution only happen to kids who “come from nothing.” 

But the truth is, sometimes the girl next door, the marching band kid, the one raised by loving parents in a safe neighborhood, makes choices that pull her into the streets.

That’s Kristin Stanton’s story. Her journals, compiled in From Marching Band to The Glass Rose -The Journals of Kristin Stanton, are raw, chaotic, and brutally honest. They trace her journey from high school trumpet player to crack addict and survival sex worker. 

There was no childhood abuse, no violent home, no generational cycle of neglect. Kristin’s parents were supportive, and her childhood was happy. Yet she still chose a path that led to self-destruction.

The Slow Drift

Kristin’s early entries sound like any teenager’s: frustration with school, insecurities about body image, crushes, and first jobs. She loved marching band. She went to football games, worked as a busgirl, and got her first kiss at sixteen.

But alongside those typical milestones, cracks were forming. Alcohol was fun, not dangerous. Sex was casual, not sacred. She lied for no reason. She gravitated toward troubled boys—guys with meth-addicted moms or violent streaks—while pushing away the kind ones. Even then, she admitted, “Why do I always fuck up my relationships with the good guys?”

Thrill-Seeking Over Safety

What stands out in her writing is the hunger for excitement. Whether it was sneaking into bars underage, doing drugs with friends, or skydiving on spring break, Kristin chased thrills. Normal life felt suffocating; danger felt alive.

She trusted her gut often enough to dodge real disaster—like refusing to get in a car with a man who gave her the creeps while hitchhiking—but ignored it when alcohol or drugs dulled her instincts. That contradiction—street smarts coupled with recklessness—defined her spiral.

Addiction Takes Over

The turning point came when she met Harold “Sipple” in rehab. He handed her a crack pipe, and she took her first hit. She knew immediately what it meant: “I’ll be homeless. I’ll become a prostitute. I’ll be living under a bridge.” And yet she couldn’t stop. Crack became her thing, then speedballs (crack mixed with heroin).

Her journals chronicle years lost to the cycle: stealing, stripping, working as a sex worker, violent boyfriends, jail time, and endless detox programs. What began as teenage rebellion hardened into survival on the streets.

Lessons From the Edge

Kristin’s story isn’t unique, and that’s why it matters. It shatters the myth that addiction only preys on the “broken.” Sometimes it starts with a good kid who chooses the streets one decision at a time—skipping class to smoke weed, ignoring healthy friendships, chasing the adrenaline rush of “being bad.”

She wrote her journals as a warning: “If it helps just one person be spared the horror of living on the streets as a druggie, then I consider it a success.”

Her message isn’t polished or pretty. It’s messy, filled with regret and self-awareness. But it’s real—and it shows us that prevention isn’t just about fixing “broken homes.” It’s about teaching kids that choices matter, that thrill-seeking has consequences, and that dignity is far easier to lose than it is to reclaim.

A safe childhood isn’t a guarantee. Even “good kids” can fall if no one helps them connect the dots between little choices and big consequences. 

Kristin’s story is a reminder that early intervention, honesty about drugs and sex, and building real resilience—not just discipline—can mean the difference between a full life and one lived in the shadows.

If Kristin’s story moved you, there’s more. Her journals—raw, unfiltered, and at times heartbreaking—are collected in From Marching Band to The Glass Rose. 

It’s not a fairytale, but a cautionary tale about what happens when a good kid chooses the streets. Follow along on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram for more updates and behind-the-scenes insights.