Seven years sober
And loving on September
Hi!
This time of year always feels supercharged to me. Fall is right around the corner (don’t mind the 101 degree heat wave in LA, nothing to see here) and everyone is buzzing with new energy. My whole life, September has always felt special — like “my” month — and not just because of my birthday (even though it is on the 12th, if anyone wants to mark their calendar!).
My grandmother – one of my most favorite people – was born on September 11th, and it always felt cosmic, our birthdays lining up, one after the other, like two halves that were always meant to be one. I miss her all the time, but especially in September. Last year, I gained a new September birthday buddy when my son was born at the end of the month. We are exactly two weeks apart, and it feels so right that my month is ours now.
September is other things, too. Back to school. Sitting in the backseat of my mom’s car on the way to Staples to buy new binders and pencils, my stomach doing somersaults as I wondered who would be in my homeroom, and what I would wear on the first day. Sometimes Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, though this year it’s the first weekend of October. It’s a fresh start, a new year, leaves turning from summer to fall.
Seven Septembers ago, I also got drunk for the last time. New York City was still hot, in that way it always is when you’re itching to switch out your summer clothes for sweaters, and I left my laptop at someone’s apartment after our dinner plans turned into a few drinks turned into going to a club turned into me blacking out and fastforwarding through the rest of the night to the next morning. It had happened so many times before, but this time, when I woke up, I was done. I was sick and tired of humiliating myself and desperate enough to try the unthinkable: giving up alcohol altogether.
Being sober at 28 felt impossible. Everything I did revolved around drinking – dates, birthdays, work events – and I was scared of who I would be without it. My life looked like this: go out, get drunk, nurse a violent hangover, sweat it out at SoulCycle, hate myself, vow to be different, show up to work looking normal on Monday morning, repent with sad desk salads, get bored, go out, repeat repeat repeat. Something needed to change, and I had a feeling my drinking was a good place to start.
Little by little, I started to feel better without alcohol. I went to recovery meetings. I took suggestions. Firsts were hard. Dates, weddings, bad days, good days. It takes time to let go of a crutch, and even more time to figure out who you are without it. One day, I woke up and realized that the thought of drinking hadn’t occurred to me in a while, and it felt like a miracle.
Seven years later, so much has changed. I wrote a book! I got married, moved to a new city, and became a mom. Motherhood has cracked me open in ways I didn’t know were possible, and, honestly, this past year has been the most challenging of my recovery. The sleepless nights, self-sacrifice, and learning curve have been humbling. But it has also been the most beautiful, profound experience of my life to watch our family grow and learn to trust myself as a mom. I can’t imagine waking up for a full day of parenting with a hangover, and I’m really thankful that I don’t have to.
The cultural conversation around sobriety has shifted considerably in the last decade, and I’m really proud to be a part of this wave of sober voices and to see my book featured alongside others about recovery. Sometimes I feel like a broken record when I talk about sobriety; what once felt so fresh and raw has become the foundation of my life, and I’ve told this story before. But I felt terribly alone when I was struggling with alcohol, and so I keep sharing about recovery if only for the one person who might need to hear that it’s possible.
Sometimes, I secretly wish that I had gotten sober during a different month. September is so jam packed with significance that the other months can feel a little empty in comparison. But we don’t get to choose when our lives change. And I’ll gladly take all the juicy stuff, back to back to back, every year. Here’s to another September.
Xx
Sarah
Congratulations on 7 years, Sarah (and happy early birthday)!
I met you briefly at Skylight last night, but wanted to share again here how meaningful your book was for me — as is knowing that sobriety is such a foundational part of your life now.
I’m always grateful to those who are willing to share their stories — in any category of life — and show the rest of us what’s possible 💛 Your story certainly did that for me!
Congrats!