The Sobriety I Didn’t Know I Needed
When I first got sober, I thought sobriety was just about not drinking. Don’t pick up, go to meetings, work the Steps, repeat. What I didn’t realize was that the real work wasn’t about alcohol at all — it was about learning how to live.
Sobriety has taught me things I didn’t even know I was missing. How to sit still when my skin is crawling. How to walk away instead of explode. How to make decisions based on what’s right for me — not what will keep the peace or please everyone else.
And let me tell you, this move to Arizona tested all of that.
The chaos leading up to leaving Connecticut was the kind of chaos that, in my drinking days, would’ve sent me straight to the bar. Instead, I called my sponsor. I went to meetings. I packed boxes while saying the Serenity Prayer under my breath like a mantra.
When Bob’s dog attacked Nicky, and my fear tipped into panic, I didn’t numb myself — I made a plan. And then I followed through.
Sobriety is what let me drive a thousand miles a day for four days straight without breaking down. It’s what let me show up at the hotel in Phoenix and actually sleep, because I knew I was safe and had made the right decision. It’s what lets me wake up now, in a new city, with no close friends yet, and still feel like I belong — because I belong to myself first.
I’ve learned that sobriety isn’t just about giving up alcohol. It’s about giving up the chaos I used to mistake for living. It’s about choosing people who don’t pull me under. It’s about letting myself have mornings like today, when I woke up early, walked Nicky before the heat set in, and felt the quiet peace of a life I built on purpose.
Some days, sobriety still feels like work. But most days, it feels like freedom. And that’s the sobriety I didn’t know I needed — the kind that lets me be fully here for the life I’m building now.
With Love,
Elfy & Nicky
