Thankful for another Sober October

Another Sober October is in the books. When I first got sober in July of 2020, I never imagined I’d be able to say that sentence out loud – let alone write about it publicly.

Before I quit drinking, I was what you might call a “high-functioning mom.” 

My kids saw me drink often, but never thought much of it. I wasn’t falling apart. I was running a business, showing up for school events, cooking dinner, making doctor appointments – you name it, I did it. There was always food in the fridge, a carpool schedule on the counter, and yes, a bottle of wine waiting in the fridge too.

I told myself I had it all together. But the truth is, I was showing up physically while being emotionally checked out. My version of “mom time” often included a drink in hand. I’d take my son to karate and sneak in a happy hour with my daughter down the street. I’d take them to restaurants with playgrounds so I could sit at the bar while they played. 

To them, it was normal. 

To me, it was survival.

I used to think that because I wasn’t missing events or neglecting responsibilities, my drinking wasn’t a problem. I had a home for them. I paid the bills. I drove them to school. I made it to their plays, musicals, graduations, and every doctor visit. I was there – or so I thought. 

But looking back, I realize I was running on autopilot. My body was present, but my spirit was somewhere else.

When I finally put down the drink and entered a 12-step program, I had to face that reality. I couldn’t undo the past or erase the guilt and shame that came with it. But I could make what’s called a living amends – to show up today as the kind of mother they can count on.

Recovery has a way of teaching you that presence isn’t about being perfect – it’s about being available. My kids are grown now – my son in his twenties, my daughter off at college – but they can feel the difference. 

They have a mom who listens. 

A mom who remembers the conversations. 

A mom who doesn’t escape.

Sometimes I still catch myself wishing I’d quit sooner, that I’d been more emotionally aware when they were little. 

But regret doesn’t serve anyone. Gratitude does. 

And I’m thankful that I get another chance – every single day – to be the kind of mother I wanted to be back then.

When I was first asked to contribute to this blog six years ago, I had no idea what life would throw at me as a single parent – or how much strength I’d discover in sobriety. 

There have been heartbreaks, moves, goodbyes, and moments when I truly didn’t think I could make it through without a drink. 

But I did. Every single time.

Not everyone who struggles will show it. Not everyone who has a problem will share it loudly. I remember writing that very first blog thinking, what if I fail? What if I drink again? But I didn’t. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. Another day done without drinking. Then another.

And in the process, I began to heal. Not just myself, but my relationship with my kids. They now have a mom who’s present, who shows up, who’s real. And I have the peace of knowing that even though I can’t change the past, I can honor it by staying sober today.

This Thanksgiving, I’ll sit at the table with my kids – two adults now who still call me “Mom” – and feel an overwhelming gratitude for the journey we’ve taken together. The hard years. The healing years. The sober years.

Because recovery doesn’t just give you back your life – it gives your kids back their mom.

And that’s something I’ll always be thankful for.