“One Year”

This past Saturday was my one year sobriety anniversary.

I've been processing a lot of emotions this week. Joy. Relief. Pride. The kind of pride that doesn't come from having it all figured out, but from simply still being here, still showing up, still putting one foot in front of another. But the prevailing emotion, the one I keep coming back to, is a level of gratitude that I can only describe as coming from God.

Because here's the thing about the people in my life. The ones who celebrated me this weekend? They're the same ones who endured the seasons of me when I was at my absolute unhealthiest. When I was causing chaos. When I was the last person you'd want to be around at a dinner table, a holiday, or honestly a Tuesday afternoon. Those same people didn't just survive me at my worst. They stood by my side as I started the journey of lifelong recovery. They forgave me. Wholly. They received my heartfelt and genuine amends. And now, they're the ones who see the beauty coming to life that they somehow always believed was inside of me, even when I couldn't see it myself.

I don't deserve these people. But I'm done arguing with grace.

This weekend they showed up in ways that wrecked me in the best possible way. Notes. Milestone recovery gifts. Meals together. And in one way or another, every single one of them said the same thing: "The best is yet to come."

I capped off the weekend on Sunday evening standing on the driving range. Just me, a bucket of balls, and the evening sky. I stood there hitting ball after ball into the sunset, and honestly it was one of the most peaceful moments I've had in a long time. Just me and the game I love. No agenda. No noise. Just swing after swing.

And here's what I noticed. Each swing wasn't the perfect swing. But the majority of them were better than they were a year ago. Significantly better. This past year I've taken my love and dedication to the game to a new level. More practice. More intention. More respect for the beauty and craft of golf than I've ever had. And it shows. My handicap would like a word with you about how far we've come, and honestly, so would my short game. A year ago my chipping was basically a war crime. Now it's just mildly offensive. Progress, not perfection.

I think that's a direct correlation to everything else. Recovering the relationships I love most. Finding a joy, a laughter, a passion, and a care for others that I didn't know I was capable of. But most importantly, I love the person I see in the mirror. That wasn't true for decades. I spent years believing I was unworthy. That shame was just part of the deal. That I was too far gone. But as my friend told me this weekend, "The lies of unworthy and shame have been blasted to hell."

I'll take that.

Thank you to everyone who has stood by me on this journey to a new life. The ones who stayed when it would've been easier to leave. The ones who forgave when they didn't have to. The ones who looked me in the eyes and said "I'm with you" when I wasn't sure I was worth being with. I can't thank you enough.

This journey is only beginning. And to the depths of my soul, I believe the best is yet to come.

One more thing. If you're reading this and you're in the early days, or you're thinking about getting sober, or you're a year in and still figuring it out like me, I want you to know something. I am here. Not because I have all the answers. I absolutely do not. But because so many people walked this road with me when I couldn't walk it alone. And if you need someone to walk it with you, I'm here. That's a promise.

Not perfect, but good.

One Story. One Swing. One Gathering at a Time.