This Thanksgiving, I hosted six straight days of company.

At one point, I helped host a crowd of 15. Another night, 13.
An open-door week-long mix of family and friends passing through our Illinois home from Colorado, Wisconsin, and West Virginia.

Ages six to 77.
Three dogs.
Beautiful chaos, meticulously organized.

There were heartfelt gratitudes shared around a table.
Turkey and brisket. Ham and carnitas.
Donuts and pies. Chips and dips.
Charcuterie boards that went on for days.
Christmas music humming softly in the background—silver bells and nostalgia.
Football on dueling wide screens.
A big batch of chili.
Dolly Parton at halftime.
Our first snow.

And all of it—every loud, messy, tender moment—experienced fully sober.

The Full-Body Experience of a Sober Holiday

There were gluten-free alternatives.
A Wednesday night poker tournament.
Afternoon naps.
Medical test results shared—answers to silent prayers.

Clients reaching out.
Women hitting new alcohol-free milestones.
Staying sober through the holidays.

A Friday morning Euchre game.
A basement full of my daughter’s college friends.
Noise. More noise. Excitement.
A full house tour. Games. Who’s most likely to…?

A restorative yoga class with my 15-year-old—candlelight, long holds, hands clasped on the floor.
Garbage that needed to be taken out. Again.
Book recommendations were passed around. Notes taken.

A sweet sixteen surprise party.
A barky little dog.

Self-Care in the Margins (and Why It Matters in Sobriety)

A minute alone in the sauna—literally.
An attempt at self-care and staying intentional.

Scrabble. Papa won.
My Ditched the Drink Insider Community supporting one another before I could even respond:

“I’m struggling.”
“Me too.”
“I’ve been there.”

More toilet paper for the powder room.
A silly Christmas movie watched in the dark—my whole family reclined, feet up.
Homemade banana bread tempting the naughty dog.
Another log on the fire.
Alcohol-free wine chilling—always ready.
Slippers. Selfies. Twinkly lights.

Sobriety, Hosting, and Perfectionism

If I’m honest, hosting family is a perfect breeding ground for my perfectionism and people-pleasing.

This Thanksgiving, I felt:

• Overwhelmed and bored

• Triggered and grateful

• Loved and annoyed

• Resentful and appreciative

• FOMO and JOMO

And instead of beating myself up for those thoughts, I did something different.

I stayed with myself.

I didn’t tell myself I was wrong for having unpleasant thoughts.
I didn’t try to fix or stuff them.
I noticed them, felt them, and let them move through.

This—not drinking, not abandoning myself, not demanding emotional perfection—was my success this holiday.

Emotional Sobriety Is a Muscle

Sobriety has taught me emotional maturity, resilience, and restraint.
Those muscles are still weak sometimes—but they’re getting stronger.

There were moments I felt like a live wire.
Everything irritated me.
An emotional outburst felt just beneath the surface.

Still, I stayed.

I didn’t drink.
I didn’t explode.
I didn’t tell myself I was bad or broken.

I let myself be grouchy.
I let thoughts pass without believing them.
I trusted impermanence.

That made all the difference.

When Holidays Trigger Nostalgia for Alcohol

There were moments I missed who I used to be.
Moments I wanted to check out.
Moments I wondered how I got here.

Holidays have a way of stirring grief alongside gratitude.

As Brené Brown says:

“We have a culture of fun, fast, and easy. I’ve never achieved anything meaningful comfortably.”

Sobriety isn’t always fun, fast, or easy—but it’s real.

And real is worth it.

A Sober Friendsgiving Miracle

After everyone left, I was exhausted. Empty house. Full heart.

That night, I almost skipped dinner with my sober girlfriends.
It was dark. Cold. Snowy.
My car needed gas.
Hard pants were required.

But I went.

We swapped turkey for tapas.
Ordered mocktails—some of us had two.
Lingered. Ordered dessert. Lingered more.

We shared honestly, held each other in understanding, and spoke our unspoken sober language.

Then—magic.

A random guy offered to take our picture.
He recognized one of us.

They used to party together.

She told him she’s sober now.
He said he is too.

311 days sober.

We screamed.
Clapped.
Jumped.
At least two of us peed a little.

Sober people in the wild—there is nothing like it.

Why Staying Sober Through the Holidays Is Always Worth It

If I felt bored, nostalgic, or tempted at any point, it was worth staying with myself.

Because of this ending?
This connection?
This joy?

Alcohol never gave me that.

Sobriety lets me show up anyway—and leave with more energy than I arrived with.

If I had to do this holiday again, I wouldn’t change a thing.

To be sober is to be alive.
To feel the full spectrum.
To grow inwardly.
To recognize miracles while they’re happening.

Join Me This Holiday Season

I’m offering 8-12 live meetings per month, a first 90 Day Challenge and more inside my INSIDER Membership Community, plus:

• 30+ recorded Masterclasses

• 24/7 support via mobile app

• Connection that actually understands sobriety

If the holidays feel heavy, triggering, or lonely—you don’t have to do them alone.

Happy Holidays.
I’m so glad you’re here.