Lately, life just feels… heavy.
There’s been a lot going on behind the scenes—personal things that I don’t always share, not because I don’t want to, but because I’ve always been the kind of person who keeps things close when it comes to family. I’m not someone who lays it all out there, and maybe that’s why the weight of it all has felt so suffocating.
Juggling motherhood and marriage is no joke. It’s beautiful, yes—but also exhausting, emotional, and sometimes incredibly lonely. And if I’m being totally transparent… there are moments when grabbing a beer or lighting up a cigarette crosses my mind. Not because I want to throw away all the progress I’ve made, but because the old me would have done just that. It was the easy way out, the quick fix, the numbing agent that helped me avoid facing the truth.
But I know better now. And knowing better means choosing differently.
The truth is, those things wouldn’t lighten the load. They’d only add to it. They never took the weight away—they just made me forget it was there for a little while. And when the buzz wore off, I was still carrying the same pain… plus the shame and regret that always followed.
The other day, I broke. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I finally let it all out. I said things that were hard to say—truths I had been bottling up. And even though I hate conflict and never want to hurt anyone, especially the people I love, I also know that being honest is necessary for healing.
Sober honesty is very different from drunk honesty. It’s clear. It’s raw. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s real.
I’m learning what it means to wear my armor—the one that doesn’t come from liquid courage, but from faith, resilience, and growth. I’m learning to stand tall, to be strong, to speak up… without leaning on the crutches I once used to survive.
I’m still working through the hurt. The letdowns. The failures. The trauma. And I won’t lie—it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do sober.
But I believe this season of heaviness has purpose. I believe in the breakthrough that comes after the breakdown. I believe that healing requires facing the hard things head-on, not running from them. And I believe that even in the weight, there is grace.
So today, I’m choosing to carry it differently. Not with booze. Not with smoke. But with truth, with strength, and with faith that brighter days are still ahead.
If you’re walking through something heavy too, you’re not alone. I see you. I feel it with you. And I’m rooting for us both.
“You don’t have to be unbreakable to be strong. You just have to keep showing up.”
— Unknown
Sober Without Secrets 