How Being Sober Curious Led to 4 Years Alcohol-Free

Stop judging yourself. Start asking more questions.

We may live in a culture of victimization, but it’s not that binary: victim or victor. Some view addiction as a weakness, one that’s exclusively tied to grit, willpower, and morality. It’s rarely that simple.

Several weeks ago, I attended the funeral of a beautiful young woman who died of anorexia — so seemingly preventable and tragic. Was she just “weak?” Was 18 years of fighting the demon of anorexia a matter of morality?

Weeks prior, in a conversation, I’d likened the eating disorder to a terrible addiction. My conversation partner made it clear that was probably true and, if so, it deserved little sympathy.

Cold. Dark. Brittle.

As if this young lady, who had been to every treatment available, wouldn’t have chosen to get well if she could. I saw her family's anguish and knew she would have spared them if she could have.

Anorexia is a severe mental illness, and it highlights the significant impact a disorder or substance can have on the body and mind. It’s also similar to other kinds of addictions.

Someone I love dearly has dealt with drug addiction for years. I’ve watched his life fall to pieces and lose nearly everything. Is he really choosing this? We were 12 when he tried his first cigarette. We had no idea that paper and fire would light up a forest of destruction in the future.

The younger you start in with substances, the more embedded in your genes addiction is, the more family dysfunction you have…things were not tipped in his favor.

What we (the strugglers) see as our “weakness” is often a far more powerful entity at work. While we contribute, it's hard to gauge the required effort without context for the job.

Many women — those with years of unhealthy dependence on alcohol like me — have spent years degrading themselves for lack of self-control, willpower, and faith.

We’re Christians, and we shouldn’t deal with addictions.

We’re Christians, and we’re supposed to “look different” than the world.

» Do I Have a Drinking Problem?

So, what’s wrong with us? Where is the joy I’m supposed to have in my heart? I’ve been embarrassed to admit it wasn’t there; it isn’t there in many moments.

Perhaps this mentality has left us feeling powerless to fight back. We’ve used up all our energy on self-hate.

Dependence, misuse, self-medication, whatever you call it, is also often masked by the “fun” of what alcohol brings, as well. We hold to those singular moments as excuses not to deal with the real problem.

Women who deal with alcohol abuse often have eating disorders in their histories. I’m one of them.

Much of the guilt and shame I heaped on myself amid that era returned when drinking surfaced as a problem. A voice in my head made an re-appearance:

“You’re a horrible person and I hate you.
You’re a horrible person and I hate you.
You’re a horrible person and I hate you.”

This cycled through my mind regularly at 16 and at 32 — for different reasons, but the voice behind it was the same. Maybe you know it too.

It was freeing when I finally realized this wasn’t some battle of wills. I couldn’t just “try hard enough” and overcome. This was actual, spiritual warfare — an invisible daily war for my heart. I didn’t know it back then, but you can’t fight back when you don’t even know what you’re up against.

As a result, I attempted to “lean on my own understanding.” This meant adapting to shifting rules around food and alcohol, justifying and reshaping my story to fit my immediate needs. In my ignorance, I constantly blamed myself for temptations, impulses, triggers, and mood swings.

It was all on me when things went well. And all on me when they didn’t. As you can imagine, this wasn’t sustainable.

With both the eating disorder and alcohol dependence, I was winging every day, just hoping I wouldn’t “give in.”

…With both, I chugged cold glasses of water to ward off desire.

…With both, I got up early to run my sins off one mile at a time.

…With both, I imagined myself at 50, still dealing with it — dreading this future that felt inevitable.

…With both, I was unable to connect with God. High on sugar or drunk on alcohol, the spiritual supply was clogged.

Four years after taking my last drink and many years after my last binge, I can look back on myself with compassion and grace. And I want to offer that same compassion and grace to anyone reading this who might need it.

If I could go back to before and sit with myself, here’s what I might say:

• This IS really hard — it’s not just you.

• This is a battle of body, mind and spirit. Combat from all sides.

• Spend time in deep curiosity about WHY you do what you do — without judgment.

• Perfection is impossible. Don’t let a step back become ten more.

• You cannot do this without support. Find your people.

• Accept that friends & family may not understand, but you’ll find those who do.

• God isn’t mad at you or disappointed in you. He’s rooting for you.

• Recognize that even if you never “get better,” you’re saved and loved. You can do this without the pressure of your salvation at risk!

• Educate yourself about the body, nutrition, and the science of addiction. The more you know about WHY your body thinks it wants these things, the better you can combat them with action and information.

• Know this: You have trained your body to think it “needs” these substances/practices to survive. It makes sense, and that’s how it feels. It won’t always feel that way.

• Short prayers are enough: Help me, Lord. Repeat.

• And as my far-away mentor, Laura McKowen says: It’s not your fault, but it is your responsibility.

Those are just a few things that came to mind today as I reflect on the last 4 years of sobriety. It was on this day that I committed to “Sober October” to clean my plate after September, where my drinking had increased to an uncomfortable degree.

I didn’t walk into this with “forever” on my mind. That was far too daunting. It was 31 days, and I refused to think further than that. That worked for me.

This is the month I joined The Luckiest Club and started attending daily meetings, reading sobriety memoirs, and getting educated on addiction. I admitted my issue to friends and asked people to pray for me. I met others — in person — who were on the same journey.

It was when everything started to shift after many years of trying and failing.

If I were starting today to potentially quit drinking, here’s what I would do:

1. Allow yourself to get curious without threatening that you “have to quit drinking.” The harshness and judgement aren’t needed here anymore, babe.

2. Read This Naked Mind by Annie Grace

3. Join the Luckiest Club, Sober Sis or another online support group

4. Download a sobriety app like Reframe or I Am Sober.

5. Purchase a pile of sobriety memoirs. You can start with:

   1. Drinking: A Love Story by Caroline Knapp

      1. I also highly recommend Appetites by Knapp — about her experience with eating disorder. I have read it at least 5x!

   2. Lit by Mary Karr

   3. Blackout by Sarah Hepola

   4. Dry by Augusten Burroughs

   5. We Are the Luckiest by Laura McKowen

   6. Love Life Sober: A 40-Day Alcohol Fast to Reset Drinking Habits, Reconnect with Yourself and Strengthen Your Relationship with Jesus by Christy Osbourne

6. Stock up on all the NA-drinks: every flavor of La Croix, Diet Cherry Coke (me!), spend some money on fun stuff like Curious Elixirs.

7. Tell at least one friend what you’re doing and why to hold yourself accountable.

8. Commit to 30 days and to writing in a journal every day about your experience.

9. Pre-plan not to give up the whole thing if you “slip” in the middle of your 30 days.

10. Spend time in prayer and center your mind and heart for this journey.

Those are just a few ideas to get you started.

That I’ve not had alcohol in 4 years is a wonder to me. It seems an enormous, impossible amount of time but we are. Funny thing about time, it passes whether we’re drinking or not.

And guess what? I rarely think about alcohol. I have a craving once in a blue moon and I really don’t miss it anymore.

When you stop drinking, you re-train your brain. The great thing about brains, they’re super re-trainable. As my friend

Dr. Lee Warren

says, we can do “self brain surgery” — it’s true!

It’s not easy. Be ready to work. But, is it worth it? It really is.

I’m here if you need me, friend.

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