30 Days

Thirty days ago, Sam and I made a decision—one that didn’t come out of nowhere, but slowly revealed itself through months of unraveling.

Relapse doesn’t always crash in loudly. Sometimes, it tiptoes in.

A drink here.

A delta-8 edible there.

A balloon full of NOS in the garage.

A trip to Colorado with a little weed.

Then more drinking. Then substances with names I don’t want to write.

It crept in—gradually becoming less of an experiment and more of a pattern. Less a moment and more a lifestyle.

As someone who doesn’t struggle with addiction in the same way, watching this unfold cracked open a new lens for me. I dabbled, too—not out of need, but proximity. Not out of craving, but curiosity. And in that strange liminal space, I saw something I hadn’t seen before:

The fork in the road between doing good and feeling good—how close they can appear. How sometimes they overlap just enough to confuse you, and then veer into wildly different directions.

I don’t have the same cravings Sam does. I don’t wake up needing a fix. But I do understand what it’s like to want relief from pain, or escape from pressure. I know how alcohol showed up in my past when I was in a struggling marriage, depressed, and grasping for something that felt like relief. I know how tempting it can be to say, “I deserve this.”

And I also know the power of saying, “I don’t need this.”

Choosing sobriety isn’t just about supporting Sam—it’s about anchoring myself. I can’t afford to follow if he falls again. I need my footing, and I need it solid. Sobriety is a choice I make for myself, too—for clarity, for peace, for presence.

So today, we celebrate 30 days sober. Together.

Not because we’re perfect, or because everything is easy now.

But because we’ve committed to choosing presence over escape.

Because we are learning, and unlearning.

Because this version of us is still being built—and we want it to stand on a steady foundation.

To anyone navigating relapse, recovery, or the blurry space in between—there is no shame in slipping, but there is power in standing back up.

Here’s to 30 days.

And tomorrow, 31.