One Year Without Alcohol: How Sobriety Changed My Life

First off, I want to say that I never thought I would see this day — but deep down, I also knew it would come the minute my path became clear. Once the brain fog lifted, I finally gained a vision of where I truly belonged in this world.

My purpose was never to be a disruption to the people around me, my work, or most importantly, my family. Back then, I wasn’t the best version of myself. I was hurt, and I was hurting others.

For years, I told myself I had it under control, but the truth is, I was lost. Every choice I made felt like it pushed me further from the person I wanted to be. I pretended I was fine, laughed it off, and kept pushing forward, but inside I was crumbling. I didn’t see the damage I was causing — not only to myself but to the people who loved me the most. Looking back, that version of me was surviving, not living.

I want to take a moment to apologize. To anyone affected by the chaos of my younger days and darker times — I am truly sorry. To my family, my friends, my daughter, my work, and even strangers who crossed my path during those years — I know my actions may have caused pain, confusion, or disappointment. Please know it was never my true heart, but the chaos I was drowning in.

And I also owe a public apology to myself, because part of growth is learning to love yourself out loud. I let myself down for many years. I let a poisonous liquid steal my body, my soul, and my mind. I broke promises to myself, silenced my own potential, and accepted less than I deserved.

You don’t realize how much alcohol robs from you until you’re finally free of it. Sobriety forced me to face that reality, and it gave me the space to begin forgiving myself.

One of the biggest reasons I chose to change was my daughter. She deserves the best version of me — not the broken one, not the foggy one, not the one lost in a bottle.

She deserves a mother who shows up, who fights for her dreams, and who teaches her that even when life knocks you down, you can rise again. In many ways, my recovery is my gift to her.

She gave me the “why” I needed to finally step into the “how.”

I am proud as hell that I haven’t had a single sip. I haven’t fallen to pressure or judgment. I trusted the process. And maybe, when I was at the most vulnerable point in my life, I finally took a leap of faith and started a business. Weird flex, but I did that with a negative bank account. How? With the mindset that failure was never an option.

Once Comets Crew began, there was no turning back — I had found my outlet.

Now, I’ll admit: I’m addicted to my work. But it’s the healthiest addiction I’ve ever had — because I truly love what I do. I’m a self-taught entrepreneur and single mom who has learned how to market, network, advertise, design, build a website, even code. Every skill I’ve picked up has been out of necessity, determination, and the belief that failure is not an option. I’ve walked into business meetings where people looked past me, searching for someone “higher up,” not realizing that it was just me — and that was enough. The amount I’ve accomplished in the past year blows my own mind.

For a very long time, I felt stuck. I wanted sobriety more than anything, but I kept chasing the next fix. I couldn’t see how much I was losing — my finances, my health, my relationships, and countless opportunities. Every day, I was tearing myself down further without even realizing it.

My family has a long history with alcoholism — generation after generation. Even today, some still hide in the shadows and pretend everything is fine. To those people, I want to say:

it’s okay.

I’m not here to judge you.

I just want you to know that I see you.

To all the empty wishes and bottles.

To all the broken promises and heartbreaks caused by carelessness.

To the chaos I once called comfort.

I see you. I lived you. And now — I’m letting you go.

One of the strongest moments for me this past year was walking back into the same bars I used to drink and party in. This time, I walked in with my head held high. I saw the same people doing the same things — and instead of feeling tempted, I felt free.

In fact, something as simple as sitting down and ordering a bruschetta dish gave me one of the most gratifying experiences of my life. I realized in that moment that I wasn’t there for the chaos anymore. I wasn’t trapped in that cycle. I was simply there, present, enjoying good food — and I left with my dignity and my sobriety intact.

I left not missing the booze. I left not caring who was still stuck there. I left with an immensely cheaper bill (hahaha) — but most importantly, I left having found a stronger version of myself the second I walked out that door. That is power. And each and every time I was able to do something like that, the feeling only grew more powerful.

Around this time, I started to realize something: sobriety wasn’t just giving me a clear head — it was also saving me money. I stopped caring what people thought of me, and I started caring about where my energy and my dollars were going. I realized I still wanted more for myself, and I finally had the means to make it happen.

I used to easily gamble $100–$400 in a single night, not even counting the drinking tabs stacked on top. Could you imagine the kind of things you can start to do when you take that same money and invest it into yourself? That’s when my mindset shifted. Instead of gambling into the government, I started gambling on me. And that bet has paid off more than I could’ve ever imagined.

Sobriety gave me my life back.

It gave me presence.

It gave me purpose.

It reminded me that I am not my past — I am my potential.

Today, I stand one year sober. And that means more than just “not drinking.” It means I show up — for myself, for my daughter, for my work, and for my community.

It means I lead with love, not pain.

It means I finally know what it feels like to be clear.