Sober Life Rocks ®️

Sober Life Rocks
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Whether you are sober, sober-ish, sober curious, or just don’t like heavy drinking, professional meetings and parties can be stressful. If you’ve ever felt alone at these events, join us to hear from people just like you who are bravely sharing their stories. On other episodes, we share tips for meaningful networking, explain the concept of sober inclusivity, and explore the world of alcohol-free options. Hosted by Sober Life Rocks, a membership-based community where we champion inclusive and sober-friendly business meeting environments.

  1. 4d ago

    Episode 107 What If We’ve Been Designing Connection All Wrong?

    What If We’ve Been Designing Connection All Wrong? When I started the Sober Life Rocks podcast, I knew I wanted our conversations to reach beyond sobriety. Yes, we talk about alcohol, but that’s rarely where the story ends. What fascinates me are the bigger questions: How do we connect? What helps people feel like they belong? And what would it look like if we intentionally designed our workplaces, celebrations, and communities to make connection easier for everyone? Those questions are what led me to invite Eming Piansay onto the podcast. On paper, Eming is an event strategist, journalist, and storyteller. But after spending an hour with her, I realized she’s also a student of human behavior. She notices things most of us barely register: where people naturally gather when they walk into a room, how conversations begin, why some spaces immediately put people at ease while others leave them searching for somewhere to stand. As she described what she’s observed over years of attending and producing events, I found myself thinking less about conferences and cocktail receptions and more about the subtle ways we’ve all learned to navigate social situations. Whether we’re walking into a networking event, a wedding reception, or a neighborhood barbecue, many of us arrive carrying the same quiet uncertainty. We wonder who we’ll talk to, whether we’ll fit in, and how we’ll bridge those awkward first few minutes before a real conversation begins. For decades, we’ve accepted alcohol as the answer to that discomfort. It’s become the default icebreaker, the centerpiece of celebrations, and the unspoken invitation to relax. But listening to Eming, I started wondering whether we’ve confused the tool with the outcome. Maybe people aren’t actually looking for a drink. Maybe they’re looking for connection. That question stayed with me long after our conversation ended. What Event Planners See That Most of Us Miss One of the advantages of planning events, Eming explained, is that you spend a lot of time simply watching people. Almost immediately after guests begin arriving, familiar patterns emerge. There are the groups who already know one another. They’re easy to spot because conversation flows effortlessly. They’re laughing before they even enter the room, picking up stories where they left off and naturally gravitating toward one another. Then there are the people who came hoping to meet someone new. They’re introducing themselves, asking thoughtful questions, searching for common ground. And then there are the people standing just outside the conversation. We’ve all been that person at one time or another. Maybe they’re attending alone. Maybe they’re naturally introverted. Maybe they’re wondering how to join a conversation that already seems complete. As Eming described these moments, I realized something that hadn’t occurred to me before. Before anyone says a word, most of us arrive carrying the same thing: a little uncertainty. Some people simply hide it better than others. That observation feels especially important right now. We hear so much about loneliness and disconnection, yet we often assume everyone else has figured out how to navigate social situations. In reality, many people are quietly hoping someone will make the first move. Shared Experiences Make Better Conversations One of my favorite parts of our discussion centered on something wonderfully simple. People connect more naturally when they have something to do together. Think about how different it feels to stand alone holding a drink versus preparing a meal with someone, taking a cooking class, exploring a new city, or even waiting together in line for great food. Suddenly, conversation doesn’t have to be manufactured. It grows naturally out of the shared experience. As Eming talked, I found myself thinking about how humans have always gathered. Long before conference centers and cocktail receptions, people connected around campfires, shared meals, worked side by side, and told stories while their hands were busy. Breaking bread has never just been about eating. It’s been one of humanity’s oldest ways of building trust and creating community. Maybe that’s what so many of us are craving today. Not another drink. Another reason to gather. Choosing Intention Instead of Autopilot Our conversation eventually shifted from event design to Eming’s own relationship with alcohol, and it became clear that her perspective had been shaped long before she ever attended her first networking event. Alcoholism had touched her family before she was born. Her grandfather struggled with alcohol until her mother gave him an ultimatum after having children: if he wanted to be part of his grandchildren’s lives, he needed to stop drinking. He did. By the time Eming knew him, he was sober, but the family’s story remained. Growing up with that history gave her an awareness that many people never have. She understood that alcohol misuse wasn’t simply something that happened somewhere else. Like so many of us, she still entered a culture where drinking was simply what adults did. Coworkers met at the neighborhood bar after work. Friends gathered over cocktails. Celebrations naturally revolved around alcohol. She wasn’t questioning it because almost no one was. Until she did. Rather than waiting for alcohol to become a problem, she asked herself a different question: Is this serving me? I love that question because it isn’t rooted in fear or judgment. It’s rooted in curiosity. Whether someone identifies as sober, sober curious, drinks occasionally, or simply wants to be more intentional, that’s a question all of us can ask about almost any habit in our lives. Is the Bar Really Creating Connection? One observation from Eming has stayed with me ever since we recorded this episode. She pointed out that people often head straight to the bar—not necessarily because they want a drink, but because they want something to do. Standing in line provides structure. Ordering gives you a script. Holding a glass gives your hands somewhere to rest while you look around the room. In other words, the bar has quietly become our social safety blanket. The more I thought about that, the more profound it seemed. Perhaps alcohol isn’t creating connection. Perhaps it’s simply helping us postpone the vulnerable first few moments before connection begins. Those are two very different things. As more people rethink their relationship with alcohol, we’re seeing encouraging changes. More venues now offer alcohol-free options, and that’s certainly a step forward. But as Eming pointed out, creating another beverage option isn’t the same as creating another way to connect. Designing Gatherings People Will Remember Toward the end of our conversation, we stopped talking about what isn’t working and started imagining what could. Instead of asking, “What should we serve?” Eming encourages planners to ask a much more interesting question: “What experience do we want people to have together?” That single shift opens the door to endless possibilities. A cooking class instead of another happy hour. A guided food tour instead of drinks at the hotel bar. An afternoon exploring a city’s neighborhoods. Indoor golf. Pickleball. Volunteering together. A museum visit. A hike. Almost anything that gives people a shared experience instead of simply a shared beverage. The activity becomes the conversation. People leave remembering what they did together, not what they drank. Why This Conversation Matters When I first invited Eming onto the podcast, I expected we’d spend a lot of time talking about alcohol-free events. We certainly did. But by the end of our conversation, I realized we’d been talking about something much bigger. We’d been talking about belonging. One of the reasons I love hosting the Sober Life Rocks podcast is that it gives me the opportunity to introduce you to people whose perspectives aren’t always part of the mainstream conversation. Eming reminds us that creating more inclusive gatherings isn’t just about offering a better mocktail menu. It’s about rethinking the assumptions we’ve built into the way we gather in the first place. That’s a conversation that benefits everyone—not just people who don’t drink. Because whether we’re planning a corporate retreat, hosting friends for dinner, organizing a conference, or welcoming someone new into our community, we’re all trying to answer the same question: How do we help people feel like they belong? If we start there, I have a feeling everything else gets a little easier. Connect with Eming Smart Meetings: www.smartmeetings.com Instagram: @smartmeetings | @pixiedaywriter The post Episode 107 What If We’ve Been Designing Connection All Wrong? first appeared on Sober Life Rocks.

  2. Jul 16

    Episode 106: Building Belonging Without Alcohol

    We’ve Built a Culture Around Drinking. What If We Started Building One Around Belonging? One of my favorite episodes of the Sober Life Rocks podcast wasn’t an interview with a bestselling author or a well-known expert. It was a conversation with my friend and co-founder, Laura Nelson. We wanted to pull back the curtain on how our thinking had evolved over the past year, and somewhere along the way, I realized we weren’t really talking about a conference at all. We were talking about a question that neither of us had been able to shake. Why have we become so dependent on alcohol as the way adults connect? At first, that question sounds like it’s about drinking. But the longer Laura and I sat with it, the more we realized it was really about something much bigger. It was about culture. It was about habit. And ultimately, it was about belonging. https://youtu.be/GauVdOAkDyk Laura has spent years attending conferences, speaking at industry events, and working with organizations to create more inclusive experiences. She’s also navigated all of those spaces as someone who no longer drinks. As we talked, she described something I suspect many people—whether they drink or not—have experienced without ever putting words to it. Somewhere along the way, alcohol stopped being one option among many. It quietly became part of the script. Think about almost every way adults gather. Networking events revolve around happy hours. Weddings are planned around the open bar. Sporting events advertise beer as much as the game itself. Concerts, festivals, fundraisers, holiday parties, neighborhood barbecues, even many volunteer events begin with the assumption that drinking will be part of the experience. None of those things are inherently wrong. Laura and I weren’t sitting there criticizing people who drink or suggesting alcohol should disappear from our culture. In fact, that’s one of the biggest misconceptions we encounter. This has never been about taking something away. It’s about asking whether we’ve forgotten to build enough alternatives. As Laura said during our conversation, people often assume the sober community wants to eliminate alcohol from social life. Nothing could be further from the truth. What we want is more choice. More creativity. More opportunities for people to gather in ways that don’t depend on alcohol to create conversation, celebration, or connection. That distinction feels incredibly important because it changes the entire conversation. Instead of asking, “How do we get rid of alcohol?” we began asking, “How do we become better at helping people connect?” Those are two completely different problems. The more Laura and I talked, the more examples came to mind. We thought about the countless adults who have quietly wondered where they fit after deciding not to drink. We thought about people in recovery, people who simply don’t enjoy alcohol, people managing medical conditions, people taking medication, pregnant women, those whose faith discourages drinking, and people who have watched addiction affect someone they love. We also thought about the event planners and hospitality professionals who genuinely want to create welcoming experiences but have inherited traditions that few people ever stop to question. What struck us wasn’t that these groups were experiencing different problems. It was that they were describing the same problem from different perspectives. Everyone was talking about connection. They just weren’t talking to one another. That realization changed the way we thought about almost everything. For months, Laura and I found ourselves looking for people who were already leading this conversation. Surely someone was bringing together psychologists, hospitality professionals, event planners, workplace leaders, creators, researchers, recovery advocates, and community builders to explore what connection might look like if we intentionally designed for belonging instead of simply repeating traditions we’d inherited. We kept looking. We never found them. Eventually, we reached a conclusion that was both exciting and a little intimidating. No one was coming to start this conversation for us. I don’t say that with frustration. If anything, I find it hopeful. Most meaningful change begins because ordinary people become curious enough to question something everyone else has accepted. They don’t begin with a fully formed solution. They begin with a willingness to gather people who see different parts of the problem and invite them to think together. That’s exactly what Laura and I decided to do. We don’t pretend to know what the future of connection looks like. We don’t have a blueprint for redesigning workplace culture, celebrations, conferences, or community events. In fact, one of the things we’ve become most comfortable saying is, “We don’t know.” But we’ve also learned that not knowing can be a powerful place to begin. Instead of trying to become the experts with all the answers, we decided to become conveners. We wanted to bring together people who rarely have the opportunity to learn from one another—people whose work intersects around human connection but who often operate in completely separate worlds. What might happen if an event planner learned from a psychologist? What could a hospitality leader teach someone who builds recovery communities? How might a workplace leader rethink team culture after hearing from someone who has spent years helping people feel like they belong? Those questions became the foundation for AMPLIFY Sober Choices. Not because we wanted to create another conference. Because we wanted to create a room where those conversations could finally happen. Will one conference change the way our culture gathers? Of course not. Will two days together solve loneliness, redesign networking, or transform celebrations? No. But every meaningful shift begins somewhere, and I believe it usually begins with people who are willing to ask better questions than the ones they’ve inherited. As Laura and I finished recording that episode, I realized something else had changed for me. I no longer think our mission is simply to normalize sober choices. That’s certainly part of what we’re working toward, but it isn’t the destination. The destination is much bigger. We’re trying to help build a culture where more people can fully participate, fully connect, and fully belong—whether alcohol is in the room or not. I don’t know exactly what that future looks like yet. Neither does Laura. That’s precisely why we’re inviting so many different voices into the conversation. Because no one is coming to fix this for us. If we want a different future, we’ll have to build it together. And honestly, I can’t think of a more hopeful place to begin.  The post Episode 106: Building Belonging Without Alcohol first appeared on Sober Life Rocks.

  3. Jul 9

    Episode 105: What Jaz Murudumbay Taught Me About Recovery, Representation, and Belonging

    Some conversations stay with you because of what happened. Others stay with you because they help you see something that was missing all along. When I sat down with Jaz Murudumbay for the Sober Life Rocks podcast, I expected we’d spend an hour talking about addiction and recovery. We certainly did. But by the time our conversation ended, I realized we’d been exploring something much deeper: what it feels like to spend your life searching for someone who understands your experience and can show you that another future is possible. One of the greatest privileges of hosting this podcast is introducing listeners to people whose voices deserve a much larger audience. Every guest brings a unique perspective shaped by their own life experiences, and every conversation reminds me that there isn’t one path into sobriety—or one path out of it. My own journey taught me what it felt like to hide. For years, I made myself smaller because I worried about what people would think if they knew I didn’t drink. I quietly declined the wine, changed the subject, or tried not to draw attention to myself. Listening to Jaz reminded me that my experience was only one version of the story. She wasn’t just navigating sobriety. She was navigating culture, identity, family expectations, and the feeling of rarely seeing anyone who looked like her talking openly about recovery. That distinction matters because if you’ve never seen someone who shares your experience find another way forward, it’s much harder to imagine that path exists for you. https://youtu.be/Ak7SubLFyTQ Growing up as the daughter of Ecuadorian immigrants in Canada, Jaz often felt like she was standing just outside the world she wanted to belong to. She remembers family gatherings where alcohol was simply part of the fabric of life. Adults drank, celebrations revolved around drinking, and no one questioned it because it was simply what people did. Even as a child, though, she found herself watching the adults as the evening unfolded. She noticed how their personalities changed after they drank and wondered why alcohol seemed to hold such importance in people’s lives. Years later, when she took her first drink at just fourteen years old, she finally understood. It wasn’t really about the alcohol. It was about relief. The self-consciousness she’d carried for years suddenly quieted. The feeling of being different softened. For the first time, she experienced what so many people later describe: alcohol seemed to erase the distance between who she was and who she wished she could be. As Jaz talked about those early years, I found myself thinking about something I’d never really considered before. People rarely become attached to alcohol because of the drink itself. They become attached to what it seems to give them. For Jaz, it offered confidence, belonging, and a temporary escape from the feeling that she somehow didn’t measure up. She shared that growing up, she often compared herself to the blonde-haired, blue-eyed girls around her. She rarely saw women who looked like her represented in the ways she longed to be represented, and over time she came to describe those years as living beneath a kind of gray cloud. Alcohol didn’t create happiness, but for a while it seemed to lift that cloud just enough to make life feel easier. Of course, as is so often the case, what begins as a solution gradually becomes another source of pain. The confidence alcohol initially provided slowly gave way to shame. The connection became isolation. The freedom became dependence. Jaz talked openly about the cycle of promising herself she would stop, only to find herself drinking again. Each relapse deepened the same painful question: What’s wrong with me? Listening to her, I realized how many people ask themselves that exact question, convinced that everyone else possesses some kind of strength or discipline they simply weren’t given. It’s one of addiction’s cruelest lies. It convinces people they are uniquely broken, when in reality they’re often carrying burdens they were never meant to carry alone. Discovering a Shared Humanity Jaz walked into her first AA meeting expecting to feel like an outsider. In many ways, that expectation made perfect sense. The meeting was held in a more affluent neighborhood than the one where she had grown up, and simply walking through the door stirred up familiar feelings of not quite fitting in. She came from a family that had struggled financially, and she remembers furnishing their home with discarded items because buying furniture simply wasn’t an option. Looking around the room at professionally dressed people with backgrounds that appeared very different from her own, she quietly wondered if she had made a mistake. So she sat in the back and listened. As people began sharing, something unexpected happened. The details of their lives were different, but the emotions were remarkably familiar. They talked about shame. They talked about feeling like they never quite measured up. They described using alcohol to quiet the relentless voice that insisted they weren’t enough, and they spoke about the exhausting cycle of promising themselves things would be different tomorrow. Jaz realized that while she had spent years believing her struggle made her different from everyone else, it was actually the thing she had in common with the people around her. Beneath different cultures, careers, incomes, and life experiences, they were wrestling with many of the same fears. That part of our conversation stayed with me because it challenged something I hadn’t fully considered before. We often focus on the ways our stories are different, and those differences matter. Jaz’s experience as the daughter of Ecuadorian immigrants shaped her relationship with alcohol in ways that were uniquely her own. My experience was shaped by growing up with a mother who struggled with alcoholism and by years of quietly hiding my own sobriety. Other guests have carried completely different burdens. Yet underneath all of those stories sits something profoundly human: the desire to belong, the fear of being judged, and the hope that somewhere there are people who will understand us without requiring us to explain every part of ourselves. I also found myself thinking about how important representation is in recovery. Growing up, Jaz had never seen women from immigrant families openly talking about addiction or sobriety. She didn’t know people who looked like her sharing stories of healing. If those stories aren’t visible, it’s easy to assume they don’t exist. It’s easy to conclude that recovery belongs to someone else. Seeing people who reflected her own experience didn’t solve everything, but it opened a door. It made recovery feel imaginable, and sometimes that’s the first step toward believing change is possible. Perhaps that’s why I love these conversations so much. Every guest leaves me with a little more empathy than I had before. They remind me that recovery isn’t one story told over and over again. It’s thousands of different stories, shaped by different cultures, identities, professions, families, and life experiences. The more of those stories we tell, the more likely it is that someone who has been quietly wondering if they’re alone will finally recognize themselves. And sometimes, that’s where healing begins. The post Episode 105: What Jaz Murudumbay Taught Me About Recovery, Representation, and Belonging first appeared on Sober Life Rocks.

  4. Jul 2

    Episode 104: How Darci Murray Is Redefining Travel Without Alcohol

    For many people, travel and alcohol seem inseparable. From airport cocktails and drinks on the plane to happy hours, resort bars, wine tours, and nightlife, alcohol is often woven into every stage of the travel experience. The assumption is so common that many people struggle to imagine vacationing without it. That is exactly why Darci Murray’s work is so groundbreaking. As the founder of Hooked Alcohol-Free Travel, Darci has created a thriving travel company dedicated to helping people explore the world without alcohol being the centerpiece of the experience. Her carefully curated trips bring together travelers who share a common desire: to enjoy incredible adventures without the pressure, expectation, or distraction of drinking. Today, Darci is helping reshape what travel can look like for thousands of people. But before she became a leader in the alcohol-free travel movement, she was navigating her own complicated relationship with alcohol while raising four children and trying to be everything to everyone. Her story is one of self-awareness, courage, and discovering that life becomes far richer when alcohol is no longer running the show. https://youtu.be/L1RrlY330x8 The Life of the Party Like many people, Darci’s relationship with alcohol started long before she questioned it. Throughout her twenties, drinking was part of her identity. It represented fun, connection, celebration, and belonging. She loved socializing and considered herself the life of the party. Alcohol was simply part of how she experienced the world. At the time, she could not imagine having fun without it. Then life changed. Darci became a mother and had four children, each born approximately two years apart. During those busy years of pregnancy, newborns, and raising young children, alcohol naturally faded into the background. There simply wasn’t room for it. For years, she focused on motherhood and family life, and drinking was largely absent from the picture. Eventually, once her youngest child was out of infancy, she began drinking again. At first, it seemed harmless. After all, she was older. More mature. More responsible. What could go wrong? When Alcohol Quietly Becomes a Crutch As many women discover, alcohol doesn’t always arrive with dramatic warning signs. Sometimes it quietly slips back into our lives under the disguise of stress relief, self-care, or relaxation. Darci was what many people would describe as a “super mom.” She was managing a busy household, raising four children, and keeping countless responsibilities moving forward every day. From the outside, it looked impressive. On the inside, it was exhausting. Alcohol slowly became less about enjoyment and more about coping. It became the reward at the end of a long day. The thing that helped her unwind. The thing she looked forward to. For a while, she didn’t think much of it. Until one moment forced her to see things differently. The Hockey Practice Wake-Up Call About eight and a half years ago, Darci found herself increasingly frustrated by her son’s hockey schedule. Practices started at 8:00 p.m., which should have been a simple inconvenience for a busy parent. Instead, she noticed something troubling. She wasn’t frustrated because of the drive. She wasn’t frustrated because of the time commitment. She was frustrated because it interfered with her ability to drink. That realization stopped her in her tracks. “I realized I was more upset about not being able to drink than I was excited about being there for my child.” In that moment, Darci recognized that alcohol had become far more important in her life than she wanted it to be. It was a painful but powerful wake-up call. The experience prompted her to take a closer look at her relationship with alcohol, eventually leading to her decision to stop drinking in 2017. Learning How Lonely Sobriety Can Feel One of the most honest parts of Darci’s story is her willingness to talk about the loneliness that can accompany early sobriety. Many people focus on the benefits of quitting alcohol, but fewer talk about the emotional challenges that come with navigating social situations for the first time. For Darci, one of those moments happened while leading a group trip to Vietnam. The trip centered around home décor and shopping, and after a day of activities, the group decided to go out to a local bar together. Darci knew she didn’t want to join them. Instead, she returned to her hotel room. What happened next surprised her. She felt isolated. Lonely. Heartbroken. Like she was missing out on the experience everyone else was having. “I felt completely alone and disconnected from everyone around me.” At the time, long-distance phone calls were expensive, but Darci reached out to a trusted friend anyway. Through tears, she talked about what she was feeling. Thankfully, that friend helped her work through the moment. Looking back, Darci recognizes that this experience is incredibly common. When alcohol has always been part of social connection, removing it can initially feel like losing access to community itself. But as she would later discover, the opposite can be true. Turning a Personal Challenge Into a Global Mission Travel has always been part of Darci’s life. As the daughter of a travel agent, she grew up exploring the world and developing a deep appreciation for adventure, culture, and connection. After becoming sober, she began asking an important question: What if people didn’t have to choose between travel and an alcohol-free lifestyle? What if there was a way to experience the world with like-minded people who simply weren’t interested in making alcohol the focus? That question eventually became Hooked Alcohol-Free Travel. Today, Darci organizes unforgettable group adventures for travelers who choose not to drink for any reason. Some participants are sober. Some are sober curious. Some simply prefer to travel alcohol-free. Others join to support a spouse or friend. The common thread is that everyone wants to experience the destination fully present and fully engaged. The Magic of Alcohol-Free Travel One of the things Darci loves most about her trips is what happens when participants first meet. Most group tours take time for people to warm up to one another. Her trips are different. “There are no barriers. People instantly have something meaningful in common.” The shared decision to travel without alcohol creates an immediate sense of connection. Conversations go deeper. Relationships form faster. People feel safe being themselves. And perhaps most importantly, nobody feels like they have to explain why they aren’t drinking. That freedom creates space for something much more meaningful. Connection. Adventure. Presence. Joy. Creating Experiences People Actually Remember One of the most exciting aspects of Hooked Alcohol-Free Travel is the intentionality behind every itinerary. Rather than building experiences around bars and drinking culture, Darci focuses on immersive activities that engage all the senses. On her trips, travelers might experience: Cold plunges in Iceland Chocolate-making workshops Bird watching excursions Cultural experiences with local communities Hands-on artistic activities Nature adventures and outdoor exploration The goal isn’t simply to remove alcohol. The goal is to create experiences so rich and engaging that alcohol isn’t missed. “People discover that travel becomes bigger when alcohol isn’t the center of it.” Instead of ending the day with blurry memories, travelers return home with meaningful experiences they can fully remember. The Future of Alcohol-Free Travel The alcohol-free movement is growing rapidly, and Darci is seeing encouraging changes around the world. Hotels are expanding their alcohol-free offerings. Restaurants are investing in sophisticated non-alcoholic beverage programs. Tour operators are beginning to recognize the demand for sober-friendly experiences. Darci has already led groups on innovative trips including non-alcoholic wine experiences in Germany, and upcoming adventures continue to explore destinations where travelers can enjoy incredible food, culture, and connection without alcohol taking center stage. The momentum is building. And Darci is helping lead the way. A Note From Margy One thing I kept thinking about during my conversation with Darci is how many of us have been taught that alcohol is the ticket to fun, celebration, and connection. Travel may be one of the places where that belief shows up most strongly. We’re surrounded by messages that tell us vacation equals cocktails. That adventure equals drinking. That relaxation requires alcohol. Darci’s story challenges all of those assumptions. What stood out most to me wasn’t just that she stopped drinking. It was that she built something beautiful in its place. She created a community. She created opportunities for connection. She created experiences that allow people to fully participate in their lives rather than numbing their way through them. If you’ve ever wondered whether travel could still be exciting, meaningful, and joyful without alcohol, Darci’s story is proof that the answer is yes. Not only is it possible. For many people, it’s better than they ever imagined.Keep Up With Darci:Website – https://hooked-on-travel.com/ Insta – https://www.instagram.com/hookedalcoholfreetravel/ The post Episode 104: How Darci Murray Is Redefining Travel Without Alcoho

  5. Jun 25

    Episode 103: How Whitney Combs Learned to Stop Managing Her Drinking and Start Living Her Life

    Today, Whitney Combs is helping women do something she spent years trying to figure out for herself: how to stop using alcohol as a coping tool and start building a life that feels manageable, authentic, and emotionally sustainable. As a sobriety coach and nervous system regulation expert, she teaches women practical skills for navigating stress, overwhelm, anxiety, and the challenges of everyday life without reaching for a drink. What makes Whitney’s work so compelling is that it grew directly out of her own experience. Before she was coaching others, she was a physician assistant, educator, wife, and mother of four who appeared to have everything under control. She was successful, highly accomplished, and deeply committed to the people she loved. Yet beneath the surface, she was carrying a tremendous amount of pressure. Like so many women, she had become accustomed to performing, achieving, and taking care of everyone around her while quietly struggling to take care of herself. During our conversation, what struck me most was how much of Whitney’s journey wasn’t really about alcohol at all. It was about perfectionism. It was about anxiety. It was about the exhausting belief that she always had to be “on,” always had to get things right, and always had to be everything to everyone. Alcohol simply became the tool she used to manage the impossible expectations she had placed on herself. https://youtu.be/YYyVBos0ZoI The Only Child Who Grew Up Feeling Like an Adult Whitney describes her childhood with genuine affection. She was raised by loving parents and speaks warmly about the home she grew up in. At the same time, she laughed about being an only child, joking that there were essentially three adults living in the house. Because she spent so much time around adults, she developed a level of maturity and responsibility very early in life. While those traits served her well in many ways, they also planted the seeds of perfectionism. As we talked, it became clear that Whitney spent much of her life believing she needed to do things correctly, perform well, and meet high expectations. She wasn’t someone who naturally gave herself permission to be messy, uncertain, or imperfect. Instead, she became the kind of person who worked harder, tried harder, and expected more from herself than anyone else ever could. By adulthood, those tendencies had become deeply ingrained. She had long struggled with depression and anxiety and had worked with mental health professionals throughout her life. But even with that support, the demands she faced continued to grow. She was teaching future physician assistants, raising four young children, managing a marriage, and trying to excel in every area of her life simultaneously. From the outside, it looked impressive. From the inside, it was exhausting. Like many high-achieving women, Whitney had learned how to function at a very high level while carrying an enormous amount of internal stress. She kept moving forward, checking boxes, and meeting responsibilities. But eventually, she needed a way to quiet the constant pressure she felt. That’s where alcohol entered the picture. When Drinking Becomes a Full-Time Mental Job One of the things I appreciated most about Whitney’s honesty was how clearly she described the mental gymnastics that accompanied her drinking. Because she was so determined not to let alcohol become a problem, she created rules. At first, she would only drink Thursday through Saturday. Then she imposed limits on the number of drinks she would have. Like so many people who are beginning to question their relationship with alcohol, she spent countless hours negotiating with herself, creating strategies, and trying to maintain control. The problem, of course, was that the rules rarely worked the way she hoped they would. Once drinking started, the carefully constructed plans often fell apart. The next morning would bring guilt, frustration, and renewed promises to do better next time. As Whitney reflected on those years, she laughed while sharing one of the most memorable stories from her journey. Determined to prevent herself from drinking impulsively, she actually locked her wine refrigerator and froze the key inside a block of ice. The plan seemed brilliant. Until it wasn’t. One night, she became so determined to get into the wine fridge that she found herself running to the garage in search of tools to pry it open rather than waiting for the ice to melt. It’s a funny story now, but it also captures something many people understand all too well. The problem wasn’t the wine fridge. The problem was the amount of mental energy she was spending trying to control something that no longer felt aligned with the life she wanted. “I was constantly negotiating with myself, and it was exhausting.” As the years passed, those negotiations became harder, more complicated, and less effective. Eventually, Whitney reached a point where she realized she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life managing alcohol. She wanted freedom from thinking about it altogether. Learning That Sobriety Doesn’t Solve Everything Like many people, Whitney initially believed that quitting drinking would solve most of her problems. What she discovered instead was both more challenging and ultimately more rewarding. After exploring different approaches and spending nearly nine months trying to figure out how to stop drinking for good, she finally committed to sobriety and joined a coaching program. Looking back, she credits that experience as one of the most important investments she made in herself. The reason had very little to do with alcohol itself. What the coaching program taught her was that removing alcohol doesn’t automatically remove the emotions that led you to drink in the first place. The anxiety is still there. The overwhelm is still there. The perfectionism is still there. The tendency to overfunction and overperform doesn’t magically disappear. Sobriety gave her clarity, but it also required her to develop new tools. That realization ultimately shaped the work she does today. “Just because you quit drinking doesn’t mean you stop having feelings.” Instead of numbing difficult emotions, Whitney began learning how to regulate her nervous system and respond to stress in healthier ways. Over time, she discovered that lasting recovery wasn’t just about removing alcohol. It was about building the capacity to sit with discomfort, process emotions, and care for herself in ways she never had before. The Power of Nervous System Regulation Today, nervous system regulation sits at the center of Whitney’s coaching philosophy, and our conversation around this topic was one of my favorite parts of the episode. She explained that many people only think about coping skills when they’re already overwhelmed. In reality, she believes there are two different categories of nervous system care. The first involves daily practices that help keep us emotionally grounded and resilient. These are the habits that support our well-being before a crisis occurs. Meditation, yoga, journaling, movement, prayer, and mindfulness practices all fall into this category. They help create a stronger foundation so that life’s inevitable challenges don’t knock us completely off balance. The second category involves what Whitney calls rescue tools. These are strategies we can access in moments of acute stress, anxiety, or emotional overwhelm. Breathwork is one example. Naming and acknowledging emotions is another. She also shared a story about her daughter, who uses an ice wrap around the back of her neck when anxiety becomes intense. The cold sensation helps bring her attention back into her body and out of spiraling thoughts. What I loved about this conversation was how practical it felt. Rather than presenting recovery as some abstract concept, Whitney offered concrete examples of what it looks like to care for ourselves in real time. “This is not forever. This is for now.” That simple reminder can be incredibly powerful when we’re caught in the middle of a difficult moment. Finding the Courage to Share Her Story After completing her coaching program and stepping away from her work as a physician assistant educator, Whitney found herself asking a new question. What did she want to do next? The answer surprised her. She had become fascinated by everything she was learning about recovery, emotional wellness, and nervous system regulation. The more she explored these topics, the more passionate she became about helping others navigate the same challenges. She began discussing the possibility of coaching with her own coach and eventually started the process of becoming certified herself. Yet even as she stepped into this new chapter, there was still the question of whether she was ready to share her story publicly. One of the most emotionally difficult conversations came with her parents. Like many loving parents, they immediately worried that somehow they had caused her struggles. Whitney had to help them understand that this wasn’t about blame. It was simply about her own journey and her decision to create a healthier future. Once they worked through those emotions, however, she found that most people responded with tremendous support. About six months after deciding she wanted to become a coach, she had a moment of clarity while sitting at a water park. She decided it was time. That day, she went home and began sharing her sobriety journey publicly. Interestingly, she didn’t start by talking about the hardest moments. Instead, she focused on what she was gaining. She talked about freedom. She talked about peace. She talked about authenti

  6. Jun 18

    Episode 102: How Jaime Andersen Found Freedom Beyond Alcohol

    Today, Jaime Andersen is helping women around the world rethink their relationship with alcohol and create lives they genuinely love waking up to. As a sober coach, certified yoga teacher, retreat leader, and advocate for intentional living, she has built a thriving community centered on wellness, authenticity, and personal growth. After leaving a successful corporate career to pursue coaching full time, she now spends her days helping others discover what she wishes she had known years earlier: that sobriety isn’t the end of a good life. In many ways, it’s the beginning. Listening to Jaime speak now, it’s hard not to notice the energy she brings to the conversation. She is thoughtful, grounded, and deeply passionate about helping women find freedom from the exhausting cycle of questioning their drinking. Yet one of the things I appreciated most about our conversation was her honesty about how ordinary her story looked from the outside. There was no dramatic rock bottom. No single catastrophic event forced her to stop drinking. Instead, her journey began in a place that will feel familiar to countless women: she was successful, capable, overwhelmed, and quietly using alcohol as a way to cope with a life that felt increasingly exhausting. The Life That Looked Fine From the Outside When I asked Jaime who I would have met if I had known her a few years before she stopped drinking, she didn’t hesitate. She described a woman who was doing all the things so many high-achieving women do. She was working full time at Amazon in a demanding corporate role while also raising a family and managing the endless responsibilities that come with being a mother. Like many women, she became incredibly skilled at keeping all the plates spinning. She showed up, got things done, and kept moving forward. What few people saw was how depleted she felt underneath it all. She wasn’t drinking every day, which made it easy to dismiss concerns about alcohol. In fact, for a long time she told herself that because she could go several days without drinking, things couldn’t really be that bad. But the truth was more complicated. By the time Thursday rolled around each week, she found herself eagerly anticipating that first drink. Thursday through Sunday became her window to decompress, relax, and escape the relentless pressure she felt during the workweek. The issue wasn’t necessarily how often she drank. It was the role alcohol had begun to play in her life. It had become the reward for getting through the week. The thing she looked forward to. The way she managed stress. And once she started drinking, she often found it difficult to stop. “I would long for Thursday to come because I just needed some way to unwind from all the exhaustion.” As Jaime reflected on that period of her life, it became clear that alcohol wasn’t the root problem. The deeper issue was that she was exhausted, disconnected from herself, and carrying more than any one person was meant to carry. Alcohol simply became the coping mechanism that made that reality feel more manageable, at least temporarily. Over time, however, she began noticing moments that forced her to confront the truth. She could see that she wasn’t always showing up as the mother she wanted to be. She didn’t have the energy she wanted for the people and activities that mattered most. There was a growing sense that her priorities weren’t aligned with her values. While nothing looked disastrous from the outside, she knew something needed to change. A Simple Break That Changed Everything Like many people who eventually find lasting sobriety, Jaime didn’t start out intending to quit drinking forever. She simply decided to take a break. She had done alcohol-free challenges before and had successfully gone periods without drinking. Each time, however, she eventually returned to old habits. This break felt different, though she couldn’t have explained why at the time. Looking back now, she realizes the difference wasn’t willpower. It was connection. During those early weeks, Jaime discovered sober podcasts. The podcasts led her to sober Instagram accounts, and those accounts led her to online communities filled with people asking the same questions she had been asking herself. Suddenly, she was surrounded by stories from people who didn’t fit the stereotypical image of someone with a drinking problem. They were professionals, parents, entrepreneurs, and high achievers who simply wanted more from life than alcohol was allowing them to experience. For the first time, she realized she wasn’t alone. That realization became a turning point. Before finding those communities, Jaime believed she was navigating a unique problem. She knew drinking wasn’t serving her, but she also didn’t identify with traditional recovery narratives. Discovering thousands of people living in that same gray area was incredibly validating. She immersed herself in books, podcasts, social media content, and conversations with others who had walked the path ahead of her. “I consumed everything I could get my hands on because I finally realized there were other people just like me.” What struck me as she shared this part of her story was how often we underestimate the power of community. So many people struggle in silence because they believe they’re the only ones asking these questions. Jaime’s experience reminds us that healing often begins the moment we realize we’re not alone. The Surprising Joy of Life Without Alcohol As her thirty-day break progressed, Jaime noticed changes she hadn’t expected. She felt better physically, of course, but the improvements went far beyond that. Her energy increased. Her confidence grew. The constant mental negotiation around drinking began to disappear. Perhaps most importantly, she started building relationships with people who understood exactly what she was experiencing. When the thirty days ended, she found herself facing an unexpected realization. She didn’t want to go back. For years, she had assumed that life without alcohol would feel restrictive or boring. Like many people, she viewed drinking as an essential ingredient in fun, connection, and relaxation. What she discovered instead was that life was becoming bigger, not smaller. “I couldn’t believe this was what life felt like without drinking. I thought, if it’s this good, why doesn’t everybody know?” That question stayed with her. She found herself wanting to share what she was learning, not because she was trying to convince anyone else to quit drinking, but because she was genuinely excited about the changes she was experiencing. Within six months, she started an Instagram account where she began documenting her journey. At first, it felt like a public journal. She never imagined it would become a business, a career, or a platform that would eventually reach thousands of people. She was simply sharing her truth. Ironically, that honesty is exactly what drew people in. Women saw themselves in her story. They recognized the exhaustion. They understood the internal debate about alcohol. They related to the feeling of wondering whether life could be better without it. As her audience grew, so did her sense of purpose. What started as sharing her own experience gradually evolved into coaching, community building, and eventually a full-time career dedicated to helping others create lasting change. Today, Jaime often reflects on how different her life looks from the one she was living just a few years ago. The woman who once counted down the days until Thursday is now building retreats, teaching yoga, coaching clients, running races, and cultivating a life rooted in wellness and intention. None of that happened overnight. It happened because she became willing to ask a simple question: What if there’s more available to me than this? A Note From Margy One of the reasons I wanted to share Jaime’s story is because so many people dismiss their own questions about alcohol simply because things haven’t gotten “bad enough.” They’re still showing up to work. Still taking care of their families. Still checking all the boxes. From the outside, everything looks fine. But Jaime reminds us that the goal isn’t simply to avoid disaster. The goal is to build a life that feels aligned, energized, and authentic. What resonated with me most was her realization that alcohol wasn’t really the problem she was trying to solve. Exhaustion was. Stress was. Disconnection was. Alcohol was simply the tool she had learned to use to cope with those feelings. I think many of us can relate to that, whether alcohol is involved or not. We all have habits, routines, and distractions that help us get through the day. The harder question is whether they’re helping us create the life we actually want. Jaime’s story is a powerful reminder that transformation doesn’t always begin with a crisis. Sometimes it begins with curiosity. A willingness to ask, “What if there’s more available to me than this?” And sometimes that single question can change everything. Stay Connected with Jamie: Website: https://www.amazinglyalcoholfree.com/ Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/amazinglyalcoholfree/ TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@amazinglyalcoholfree YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@AmazinglyAlcoholFree LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jaimeandersen/ The post Episode 102: How Jaime Andersen Found Freedom Beyond Alcohol first appeared on Sober Life Rocks.

  7. Jun 11

    Episode 101: Kriya Lendzion’s Journey From College Recovery to National Prevention Leader

    Today, Kriya Lendzion is one of the most respected voices in the field of youth substance use prevention. As a counselor, prevention specialist, educator, and keynote speaker, she has spent decades helping schools, parents, and communities understand how to better support young people as they navigate the pressures and realities of alcohol and drug use. Her work has impacted countless students and families, and her expertise is sought after by organizations across the country. What makes Kriya’s work so powerful, however, is that her knowledge isn’t purely academic. It is deeply personal. Long before she was leading workshops and speaking from conference stages, she was a teenager struggling with alcohol herself. During our conversation, she shared a story that was equal parts heartbreaking, inspiring, and hopeful. It is a story about family, identity, recovery, and discovering that the life waiting on the other side of alcohol can be far richer than the one we fear leaving behind. https://youtu.be/cRPa2TwlpCc Growing Up Between Fear and Fascination Kriya’s earliest understanding of alcohol was complicated. Her father struggled with alcoholism and was no longer present in her life after her mother made the difficult decision to remove him from the home because of his drinking. As a child, she understood alcohol as something dangerous, something capable of destroying relationships and disrupting families. Seeing the impact it had on her father left a lasting impression, and she remembers growing up with a firm determination that she would never follow that same path. At the same time, she was receiving a very different message from the world around her. Like so many children growing up in the 1980s and 1990s, she was surrounded by cultural images that portrayed drinking as glamorous, sophisticated, social, and fun. Her mother worked at a restaurant, and after school Kriya often spent time there. She remembers sitting at the bar doing homework while watching adults laugh together, celebrate, and socialize over drinks. To a young person observing from the sidelines, alcohol seemed connected to confidence, connection, and belonging. The contradiction was subtle but powerful. On one hand, alcohol had damaged her family. On the other hand, it appeared to be the thing that made adulthood exciting. Those mixed messages created a foundation that would later influence her own relationship with drinking. By the time she was around twelve years old, curiosity began to take over. Because alcohol was easily accessible both at home and in the restaurant environment, she started taking small exploratory sips. What began as experimentation quickly became something more significant because she immediately loved the way alcohol made her feel. “I loved the feeling of ease and calm. It seemed to take away the social anxiety and make everything feel easier.” Like many young people who later struggle with alcohol, Kriya wasn’t drinking because she wanted to create problems in her life. She was drinking because, at first, alcohol seemed to solve problems. It quieted insecurities, reduced awkwardness, and helped her feel more comfortable in social situations. As she moved through middle school and high school, alcohol became less about the drink itself and more about the identity she was building around it. She began to cultivate a reputation as the person who brought energy into every room. She loved being the friend everyone was excited to see arrive at a party. She loved hearing people say, “Now the party can start.” Over time, that role became part of how she saw herself. Being the life of the party wasn’t just something she did. It became who she believed she was. When the Consequences Became Impossible to Ignore The problem with building an identity around alcohol is that eventually alcohol begins taking more than it gives. What initially felt empowering slowly became limiting, though it took time for Kriya to fully recognize it. By the age of nineteen, the consequences of her drinking had become serious. She had already developed an ulcer, her academic performance was suffering, and she was failing out of college. The life she envisioned for herself was beginning to slip away, and she found herself facing a reality she never imagined. The cautionary tale she had grown up hearing about her father no longer felt distant. For the first time, she could see similarities between her own path and the one she had promised herself she would never follow. That realization led her to make a courageous decision. She entered an intensive outpatient treatment program while continuing to attend college. Looking back, it would have been understandable if she had chosen to withdraw from campus life entirely while focusing on recovery. Instead, she did something far more challenging. She decided she was going to learn how to live sober in the very environment where she had spent years drinking. As a member of a sorority, she was surrounded by parties, social events, and a college culture where alcohol was deeply ingrained. Rather than isolating herself, she chose radical honesty. She simply began telling people the truth. “I’m not drinking anymore. I’m in treatment.” Today, that kind of openness may not seem particularly unusual. In 1990, it was almost unheard of. Recovery conversations weren’t happening publicly. There were no sober social media communities, recovery podcasts, or alcohol-free movements gaining mainstream attention. Most people simply didn’t talk openly about seeking treatment. The response she received revealed something important about relationships. Some people were uncomfortable because her decision challenged their own assumptions about drinking. Others immediately stepped forward to support her. Those supporters became an essential part of her recovery journey. “My real friends became invested in my success.” At parties and social gatherings, they would surround her with encouragement and protection. If someone handed her a drink, a friend might quietly take it and redirect it elsewhere. They understood what she was trying to accomplish and wanted to help her succeed. What surprised Kriya most was that sobriety didn’t require her to abandon her personality. She still danced. She still sang karaoke. She still brought energy and enthusiasm into social situations. The difference was that she was finally learning that those qualities had belonged to her all along. They had never belonged to alcohol. “I discovered I could still be the fun person. I just wasn’t drinking anymore.” Finding Purpose Through Service As Kriya became more comfortable sharing her story, something unexpected began to happen. Other people started sharing theirs. Students would approach her at parties and confide concerns about their own drinking. Friends would quietly tell her about family members who struggled with alcohol. Others would ask questions about treatment, recovery, and what it meant to change their relationship with substances. Word spread that she was someone who would listen without judgment. Over time, she became a trusted resource not only for students but for the university itself. She was invited to speak with incoming freshmen about her experiences and help educate students about alcohol use. Faculty members sought her perspective on how to support students who might be struggling. She helped create peer counseling initiatives and alcohol awareness programs that gave students a safe place to seek guidance. What began as a personal recovery journey gradually transformed into something much bigger. Her willingness to be honest about her own experiences created opportunities to help countless others. By the time she graduated, she had become a recognized student leader and received significant recognition for the impact she had made on campus. Yet the most important reward wasn’t the award itself. It was the realization that her greatest struggle had become the foundation for her life’s purpose. A Note From Margy One of the things I loved most about this conversation with Kriya is that it challenges a belief so many of us carry: that alcohol is what makes us fun, interesting, confident, or connected. Kriya built an entire identity around being the life of the party. She wasn’t drinking because she wanted to create problems in her life. She was drinking because alcohol seemed to solve them. And yet, when she removed alcohol, something remarkable happened. She discovered that the qualities she valued most about herself hadn’t disappeared. They had been hers all along. I think that’s a lesson that extends far beyond recovery. How many of us hold onto things that no longer serve us because we’re afraid of who we’ll be without them? A job title. A relationship. A role we’ve played for years. A version of ourselves we’ve outgrown. What Kriya’s story reminds me is that growth often begins when we’re willing to find out who we are without the crutch, the mask, or the story we’ve been telling ourselves. And sometimes, what we discover is even better than we imagined. Keep Up With Kriya: @KriyaCounselor on IG, FB, Tik Tok and YouTube Website: KriyaLendzion.com  The post Episode 101: Kriya Lendzion’s Journey From College Recovery to National Prevention Leader first appeared on Sober Life Rocks.

  8. Jun 4

    Episode 100: What Brad McLeod Learned About Recovery, Reinvention, and Simply Showing Up

    If you’ve spent any time in the recovery space, there’s a good chance you’ve heard of Brad McLeod. As the founder of a thriving online recovery community and the host of a podcast that has reached thousands of people seeking support and connection, Brad has become a familiar and trusted voice for those navigating sobriety. Through honest conversations and a commitment to showing up consistently, he’s helped create spaces where people feel less alone in their recovery journeys. But what struck me most during our conversation wasn’t the community he’s built or the success he’s achieved. It was the path that brought him there. Because before Brad was helping others find hope, he was searching for it himself. His story includes addiction, jail time, prison, deportation, and a lifetime ban from the United States. Looking at where he is today, it’s hard not to be inspired by how dramatically his life has changed. Yet as he shared his journey, I was reminded of something I hear often in recovery circles: transformation rarely happens all at once. It happens one decision, one lesson, and one imperfect step at a time. And perhaps that’s what made this conversation so powerful. Beneath the story of recovery is a much bigger lesson about purpose, resilience, and the courage to begin before you feel ready. https://youtu.be/Da1Rwg59jNI When Chaos Feels Normal Brad’s early years were marked by instability. He moved frequently, spending different seasons of his childhood living with his grandparents and then with his parents. The constant changes created an environment where chaos felt familiar and uncertainty became part of daily life. For many people, those experiences leave lasting effects. When life feels unpredictable from the beginning, it can be difficult to develop a sense of stability or belonging. Looking back, Brad can see how those early circumstances shaped some of the choices he would later make. Like many stories of addiction, substances didn’t enter his life all at once. It began with drinking during his teenage years. At first, alcohol seemed to offer an escape, a way to fit in, or simply a way to quiet some of the internal noise. But over time, drinking led to drugs, and drugs eventually led to harder substances. The progression wasn’t dramatic overnight. It rarely is. Instead, it was a series of small decisions that gradually pushed him further away from the life he wanted and deeper into consequences he never expected. There were arrests. There were stints in jail. There were moments when life became increasingly difficult to manage. Yet addiction has a remarkable way of convincing us that tomorrow will somehow be different. We tell ourselves we’ll stop later. We’ll figure things out eventually. We’ll make changes after one more weekend, one more mistake, one more chance. For Brad, that illusion finally came to an end during a trip back to the United States. At the time, he was living in Canada and had returned to visit family and friends. Instead of being welcomed home, he was met at the airport by law enforcement officers executing an outstanding warrant related to selling drugs to an undercover police officer. What followed was a year in prison. After serving his sentence, he was deported back to Canada and permanently banned from re-entering the United States. For many people, a moment like that would feel like rock bottom. The consequences were undeniable. The chaos had finally caught up with him. And in some ways, that’s exactly what made change possible. “The gig was up. I couldn’t keep living the way I had been living.” Starting Over and Finding Purpose One of the things I appreciate about recovery stories is that they don’t end when someone gets sober. In many ways, that’s where the real work begins. Once the substances are removed, we have to learn how to build a life. We have to discover who we are without our coping mechanisms. We have to figure out what matters, what we value, and how we want to spend our time moving forward. For Brad, that process included returning to school and earning a degree. He eventually entered the field of addiction counseling, a path many people in recovery feel drawn toward. After experiencing firsthand how life-changing recovery can be, it’s natural to want to help others find the same freedom. For a while, the work felt meaningful and aligned with his purpose. He understood the struggles his clients faced because he had lived them himself. He knew the fear, the shame, the setbacks, and the hope. But helping people through addiction recovery comes with an emotional cost that often goes unseen. Counselors, sponsors, coaches, and recovery advocates invest deeply in the people they serve. They celebrate victories, support people through relapses, and carry the weight of difficult outcomes. Over time, that weight began to take its toll. The turning point came when two people he had worked closely with died from overdoses. The losses hit hard. Despite all the effort, care, and energy invested in helping them, they were gone. The grief was profound, and it forced Brad to take an honest look at what the work was doing to him emotionally. At the same time, he and his wife were preparing to welcome their first child. Standing at that crossroads, he made a decision that felt both frightening and necessary. He walked away. Without another source of income. Without a clear roadmap. Without knowing exactly what would come next. “Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is acknowledge that something isn’t sustainable anymore.” Building Something Before He Felt Ready What happened next is one of my favorite parts of Brad’s story because it’s a reminder that many meaningful things begin in very ordinary ways. About eight years ago, he started a Facebook group focused on early recovery. There was no business plan. No marketing strategy. No grand vision for what it might become. There was simply a desire to create a place where people could connect and support one another. One person joined. Then another. Then another. People shared the group with friends who shared it with other friends. Slowly, the community began to grow. Over time, it evolved into a vibrant recovery network serving people from all walks of life. Then came another unexpected leap. About four years ago, Brad decided to start a podcast. The funny part is that he didn’t really know how to podcast. In fact, he told me that his parents had given him podcast equipment years earlier, and it had mostly sat unused. When he finally pulled it out, he couldn’t even get it working properly. It’s a story many creators can relate to. We imagine that successful people started with expertise, confidence, and perfect systems. More often than not, they started exactly where Brad did: confused, uncertain, and learning as they went. Eventually, he figured out enough to record an episode. Then another. Then another. And somewhere along the way, the podcast became something much bigger than he imagined. “You don’t have to be perfect to begin. You just have to begin.” The Impact We Never Get to Measure One of the most meaningful parts of our conversation centered around something many people struggle with, whether they’re podcasters, writers, entrepreneurs, or simply people trying to make a difference. How do you know if what you’re doing matters? We live in a culture that loves metrics. Downloads. Followers. Subscribers. Shares. Comments. But recovery communities don’t always operate according to those measurements. Many people listen quietly. Many people never comment. Many people never publicly engage because anonymity feels safer. As a result, it can be difficult to know whether your efforts are reaching anyone at all. Brad shared a beautiful story about receiving an email from a listener whose life had been impacted by something they heard on his show. That single message reminded him that the most important effects of our work are often invisible. We don’t always get to see the ripple effects. We don’t always hear the stories. We don’t always know who needed to hear exactly what we had to say on a particular day. Yet that doesn’t mean the impact isn’t real. “We never really know how our words or actions might affect someone else’s life.” I think that’s a lesson all of us need to hear. Whether you’re sharing your recovery story, encouraging a friend, volunteering, writing, creating, or simply trying to show up as a good human being, much of your influence will happen beyond your view. Sometimes the most meaningful contribution we can make is simply continuing to show up. Why the Journey Matters as Much as the Outcome As Brad and I talked about podcasting, we found ourselves returning to a theme that had very little to do with audience growth. The greatest gift hasn’t been the numbers. It’s been the relationships. Every conversation introduces you to someone new. Every guest offers a different perspective. Every story teaches you something about resilience, courage, healing, or humanity. In many ways, the process itself becomes transformative. Brad shared how much his own life has been enriched through the people he’s met and the conversations he’s been fortunate enough to have. I could relate completely. One of the unexpected gifts of hosting this podcast has been the opportunity to sit across from incredible people and hear the stories they carry. Time and again, I’m reminded that recovery isn’t just about stopping drinking or using. It

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Whether you are sober, sober-ish, sober curious, or just don’t like heavy drinking, professional meetings and parties can be stressful. If you’ve ever felt alone at these events, join us to hear from people just like you who are bravely sharing their stories. On other episodes, we share tips for meaningful networking, explain the concept of sober inclusivity, and explore the world of alcohol-free options. Hosted by Sober Life Rocks, a membership-based community where we champion inclusive and sober-friendly business meeting environments.

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