For a long time, I knew I needed to stop drinking. I knew alcohol was hurting me, but what broke me the most was knowing it was hurting my children. I loved them more than anything in this world, and I hated the person I was becoming. I would promise myself I was going to stop. I meant it every single time. And then I would drink again. That was one of the hardest things for me to understand—how could I love my children that much and still not be able to stop?
The truth is, I had gotten to a place where I literally did not know how to function without alcohol. I didn’t know how to handle stress, fear, sadness, anger, or even everyday life without drinking. Alcohol had gone from something I used to cope to something I felt like I needed just to exist. I wanted out so badly, but I had no idea how to get out. There is a kind of shame that comes with looking at your children and knowing they deserve a better version of you, while feeling completely powerless to become her. I carried that shame every single day.
Getting sober meant finally admitting that wanting to stop wasn’t enough—I needed help. I had to surrender and allow other people to show me how to live without alcohol because I truly didn’t know how. Sobriety has not made my life perfect. I still struggle. I still have days that bring me to my knees. But today, I don’t have to drink over them. And when I look at my children now, I know I am giving them something I once wasn’t sure I could give them: a present, sober mom. I can’t change what they experienced during my drinking, but every day I stay sober, I get the opportunity to show them—and myself—that my story didn’t have to end there. I thought giving up alcohol meant giving up the one thing I needed to survive. Instead, giving it up is what finally taught me how to live.
