07/18/2026
It's the dawn of a new era...
I remember when alcohol ruled my life.
It's taken a long time to get here, to be able to sit down and reflect on it without wanting to look away. I don't miss waking up groggy on Saturday mornings...or, in my case, every morning.
It started when I turned 18. I suddenly had money, but no real direction. No goals other than escaping a reality that felt too heavy to carry.
There were seasons when I got my life together. I quit drinking for a while, found my way, and thought maybe I'd made it. Then life happened. I got kicked out, started over again, and fell right back into it.
I worked three jobs; a bar, a restaurant, and a hotel. Looking back, getting the job at the bar was the beginning of a slow drift away from myself. Every drink took me a little farther from who I really was. Farther from my spirit. Farther from the path I was meant to walk.
In 2020, I finally started learning the language for what I had lived through. Trauma. Conditioning. Survival. That's when my healing journey truly began, and I started peeling back the layers that had kept me tied to alcohol for so long.
At first, I just tried not to buy it every day.
Then came the girl math.
"I'll have three tonight and save three for tomorrow."
Tomorrow would come, and I'd think, "Ah...I'm going to drink them anyway."
Before I knew it, alcohol had become normal. It was how I celebrated. It was how I coped. Good day? Drink. Bad day? Drink.
I convinced myself I was in control because I wasn't drinking as much as I used to.
I was not in control.
Looking back now, alcohol was not freedom at all. It was blurry mornings. Lost time. Money that could've built a future for me and my kids. Wasted potential. Worry. Stress. Drama. Toxicity. Damage...and then the exhausting cycle of trying to recover from it.
In one relationship, I gained 70 pounds in the first year because drinking was what we called "having fun." What I didn't realize then was that drinking wasn't part of our fun, it was our fun. I stopped working out and jogging. I stopped dreaming of the future. And eventually, it became part of what tore everything apart.
Did I still build a life? Yes.
But I know now that I was capable of so much more.
Cleaning up my life hasn't been easy. Healing never is. I've had to face truths I spent years avoiding. I've had to unlearn. Relearn. And then learn again.
Every layer I've peeled back has brought me closer to the woman I was before survival became my personality.
If you're in that place right now, wondering if change is possible, I'm here to be living proof that it is.
I don't share my story because I'm a recovering alcoholic. I share it because I'm a survivor of trauma.
Alcohol was woven into my life for as long as I can remember. It was present in celebrations, heartbreak, coping, survival...it always seemed to have a seat at the table.
Today, it doesn't.
I'm finally back in control of my life.
I have a small business that supports my kids and me. We have a family home that we can truly settle into instead of constantly wondering where we'd end up next. Looking back, there were so many rushed move-ins and move-outs. Rent was part of it sometimes, but so much of the chaos came from the restless spirit that alcohol creates. It keeps you chasing something that never lets you rest.
It is an exhausting way to live, and I don't regret leaving it behind for a second.
Today, my kids have a present mom.
They have support. Guidance. Home cooked meals. Random retail therapy (because...balance 😂). They have someone who is emotionally available because I'm not hungover. I'm not spending my money trying to feed an addiction. I'm not overworking myself just to afford a lifestyle that was slowly taking everything from me.
Now I work with intention.
I'm building a home instead of just living in one.
New furniture. A cozy deck. Clothes that actually reflect who I am, not who I became in the nightlife. Pictures on the walls. Renovations that allow us to stay awhile.
These might seem like small things to someone else, but to me they're proof.
Proof that healing changes your priorities.
Proof that peace becomes addictive in the best possible way.
And proof that when you begin healing the trauma beneath the addiction, your whole life begins to change.
Not overnight.
But one honest choice at a time made with good intention.
Peace is a choice. Not a destination 🫶.
If you got this far, thank you for reading.
xoxo Lindsay Chelsea
Sacred Embers Collective