1,000 Day Reflections
1,000 days ago, I woke up with my last hangover.
I knew I was experiencing a fundamental shift in my life that morning, but I had no idea what it was going to look like. I had taken countless “breaks” from alcohol over my decades as an enthusiastic social drinker, but the goal of those breaks was always to reset myself to factory settings. You know, so I could come back as a good little moderate drinker.
This time, something felt different. Somewhere, deep inside, my intuition was whispering that this time was for good. I acknowledged that I had been repeating the same nonsense over and over, and the results were never going to change unless I changed. I finally accepted that a break wasn’t going to reset me because, honestly, reverting to factory settings means no alcohol. None is the only amount of alcohol our bodies were built for.
I had to fully embrace the fact that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought about my drinking. My opinion was the only one that mattered. No one had any idea I was struggling, because I didn’t look like the stereotype of someone with a problem. My drinking followed normal social conventions and everyone would say that I wasn’t “that bad.” From the outside, I looked like I had all my ducks in a row. Turns out, my ducks were just good at putting on a show, and they were tired of performing.
That morning, in my bed, I decided I was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired, and the only way forward was without booze in my life. Something about that choice felt incredibly liberating and empowering, even as I suffered through one last day of a rotten stomach, hot chills, and a crushing headache. Each day after that one, I felt stronger and more in control. The fog lifted and my life gradually got brighter and more joyful. It wasn’t necessarily an easy process, figuring out who I was without alcohol and what this new life would look like, but I knew in my bones that it was the path I was meant to walk.
I knew I deserved more than the life alcohol was tainting. I deserved peace, consistency, and self-love. I deserved to trust myself and to like the person I saw in the mirror each morning. Now I've got it all. It turns out, alcohol was adding nothing to my life, but removing it added a LOT.
Here’s the thing—it doesn’t matter if you count your days or have no idea how long you’ve been alcohol-free. It doesn’t matter if you’re five days sober or 500. Every single day on this journey is important and worth celebrating, either publicly or privately, if you choose to. There’s no moral high ground here, and more days aren’t better than less days. We all started at day one, and then kept putting one foot in front of the other, day after day. I choose to count my days and celebrate milestones because it feels right to ME. It’s a reminder of what I’ve accomplished and how far I’ve come. It feels right, and if nothing else, those of us on this journey deserve to do whatever the hell feels right. I might not count days forever, but for right now, I’m pretty freaking excited to see a comma in the number on my app this morning!
We get to approach our sobriety in whatever way works for us. Despite what the social media trolls might try to tell us, there are no rules, no sobriety police, and no right way or wrong way. We don’t have to use certain labels or terminology, and we don’t have to answer to anyone except ourselves. For example, I don’t refer to myself as an alcoholic, because nothing about that label feels right to ME. So guess what?? I don’t have to use it – end of story!
If you had sat me down 1,000 days ago and given me a preview of what was going to unfold over the next three years, I wouldn’t have believed you. I wouldn’t have believed that I would be publishing a book, sharing my truth with the world, and living my life so differently from how I was back when alcohol played a leading role. I wouldn’t have believed how much more fulfilling life is without booze casting its shadow over me.
In my book, I discuss my one-year soberversary feeling anticlimactic. It felt like such a big deal to me, but it was really just another day. Nothing changed; I had to keep moving forward and doing the work. There was no confetti, balloons, certificate of achievement, or cake. It’s not like I was done with sobriety at the one-year mark. It wasn’t a finish line - It was just the start of another lap.
I vowed that day that going forward I would celebrate the crap out of myself on whatever milestones I felt like celebrating, and DAMMIT, I would make myself an effing cake!
So here we are, 1,000 days sober, with the very first PINK cake that has ever existed in my home full of boys!
I’ve never been more excited about a cake and what it represents. It’s symbolic that this day is hitting just over a week before my debut book will be published. Talk about a full-circle moment.
I’m so incredibly grateful for the amazing friends I’ve made, the community that has rallied behind me, the lessons I’ve learned, and the new doors that have opened to me on this journey. It feels like the best kind of growth. It also feels like stepping into my power and into the version of me I was meant to be.
It's never too late to reinvent ourselves or make a change. It’s never too late to start living the rest of our lives. It’s never too late to discover how good we feel without alcohol casting its shadow.
So, a big sparkling water cheers to my first 1,000 days. Here’s to 1,000 more!!
Ps. If you’re just starting to consider your relationship with alcohol and you’re not sure where to start, I highly recommend The Reframe App. It’s full of different resources that are incredibly helpful, especially if you don’t yet know exactly what you need. There are trackers, virtual meetings, a discussion forum, courses, toolkits, challenges to participate in, and more. I still use it daily and love that it has so much to offer. You can try it out for two weeks free here:
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