14/04/2026
This is our winecellar.
Almost two years ago, I checked into rehab. I was ready to let go of the drugs. But never drinking again? That felt like losing a part of how I existed in the world at dinners, at celebrations, around people I loved. I was scared I’d disappear from life entirely.
In rehab, I learned that recovery only works if you quit entirely. Because for people like us, one drink isn’t one drink.
So I started building something new. I chose my situations. Stepped away from parties, certain nights, certain crowds. And over time, something shifted. I just stopped wanting it. The pull was gone.
Now I can sit at a table while everyone drinks wine and feel nothing but present. I’m actually there. Not performing being there, actually there. That used to be impossible.
People ask if sober life is boring. Honestly? Yes. At first, it was. But not for the reason you think.
I got used to the chaos. A fellow’s explanation really resonated: I lived in extreme highs and lows. That frequency felt familiar exciting, dangerous and somewhere I didn’t want to let it go. But living in that chaos also meant living with secrets, fear and the constant let downs. When I stopped, life got quieter. Flatter. And that felt boring compared to everything I knew.
But here’s what happened: I started to feel. Actually feel. And when I did, normal life hit harder than anything I ever chased. A sunny afternoon. A real conversation. My kid falling asleep on me. It became more than enough.
Over time my life became beautiful. Not because of what I had. Because of what I felt. Not waking up with shame, regret, embarrassment. You can’t put a price on that.
I’m present for Sophie, for my boys, for the people I love. I’m not numbing anymore. I’m here. Fully here.
And I never thought I’d stand in a wine cellar in Italy and feel free. But here I am. 🍇
