When I am drunk, my self-control goes out the window. I will tell you how I actually feel. I will let down my guard. I will be honest about the things sober-me is too scared to admit.

I find it amusing that the top recommendation to help you stop obsessing about your drinking is to obsess over drinking even more.

Just knowing I haven’t put alcohol into my body makes me feel healthier, like I’m doing my beautiful body a huge favor.

Like anybody else who’s spent a morning on the bathroom floor after a night at the bar, I’ve sworn off drinking countless times.

This isn’t about what’s fair. It’s about what we can afford. And we can’t afford to pretend it’s fine that everything we do or think is somehow wrong. We can’t afford to act like it’s okay that “Girls can do anything!” got translated somewhere along the line into “Women must do everything.” We can’t afford to live lives we have to fool our own central nervous systems into tolerating.

Addicts are particularly afflicted but it also means we are especially prone to shininess. The further down you’ve gone, the further up you get to go.

I spent two weeks without any alcohol—and my head stopped hurting in the morning and I didn’t throw up in any kitchen sinks and I didn’t have to make any phone calls to apologize and I didn’t eat a spring roll while sitting on the floor of my shower and I didn’t ever at all think it was an appropriate idea to FaceTime the guy I used to like three times at 3:34AM. I just felt fine.

My journey to sobriety happened in phases. No longer feeling the void from a previous night of drugs and alcohol is what true freedom has meant for me.

Fall in love with the hours and the time spent actually producing and doing. Don’t fantasize about what life will be like when you reach the goal, but maintain the sobriety of process and action.

To my surprise, life did not magically fall into place once when I stopped drinking. In fact, for a little while, it got much worse.