New Year, Same Me: Finding Growth Without Overhaul

Not to be the one to go against the grain just to seem different, but the usual focus this time of year on reflection, letting go, and embracing new beginnings isn’t quite resonating with me. No shade to those setting resolutions or engaging in rituals to release the past and step into the new year—it’s all good and meaningful work.

For me, though, this season has always carried a complicated undertone. Going all the way back to my middle school years, the holidays often spiraled into guilt after weeks of binge eating, followed by a January 1st “reset” that I treated as my magical solution. The first day of the year became my crutch—a promised fresh start on the elusive path to fulfillment, which for years I equated with being skinny. I truly believed that flipping the calendar could somehow override my unhealed relationship with myself, food, love, alcohol, and drugs. Spoiler alert: it never worked.

This year feels different. Perhaps my disconnect from the “norm” of a reset and intention-setting is because, for the first time in my life, I’ve been maintaining a practice of micro-goal setting—showing up for myself each day in small, sustainable ways. I’ve come to understand my own power: my ability to let go, to say no, and to stop or start again at any moment, on any day. For the first time ever, my only goal is to keep doing what I’m doing! To remain teachable and humble and to honor my journey by finding peace and acceptance with where I stand.

Instead of entering the new year with guilt, pressure, or the urge to overhaul myself, I rang in 2025 with seven years of sobriety. I find myself free of shame, free of the need to prove anything, and committed to staying on this steady path of growth and evolution.

While I’m grateful to embody pride and self-love, my body reminds me of the deep pain and sorrow I carry—the kind that resides deep within your bones. I’m reminded of the expression, “Nobody rides into the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous on the wings of good fortune.” I didn’t arrive gracefully; I came crashing in with blunt force trauma, a bruised body (and soul) following my first felony DUI, second arrest, and enough guilt, shame, and remorse to make me question whether my life was still worth living.

Prior to the DUI and the January 1st wake-up call in Sonoma County Jail, I had already been toying with the idea of trying a year of sobriety. I was curious to see if I could do it, especially since, at that point in my adult life, I hadn’t gone a single day without a drink or drug. I was also interested in the potential physical, mental, and financial rewards.

The accident that night, and the terrifying way I woke up afterward, only solidified my decision to give sobriety a try—well, that and the court order. Nonetheless, I quickly learned that staying sober wasn’t just about reaping the benefits—it was about survival. My life, and the lives of others, depended on it.

The way I drank was like someone intent on drinking to die. Yet through that harrowing experience on January 1, 2018—coming so close to death—I discovered a profound desire not just to exist, but to truly live.

I knew what I had to do and where to go. I had been aware of my alcoholism and my predisposition to it since the age of 16. My earlier bouts of sobriety attempts and exposure to meetings weren’t for nothing. This time, I was ready. I showed up to AA this time with enough fear and desperation. That desperation led to willingness, and that willingness led to a sponsor, step work, commitments, community, relationships, and ultimately, to today—a life filled with an imperfect but healthy and loving relationship, two beautiful children, a sense of self-love, service, a connection to a higher power, and an understanding of unity consciousness.

I’m overwhelmed with gratitude and, honestly, a little disbelief at the life I get to lead now. To be here as a sober woman, guiding my children and yoga students feels like a gift I could never have imagined. But what humbles me the most is how much I learn in return. Their presence, wisdom, and courage remind me daily to stay open, teachable, and grounded. 

I’m wishing everyone a Happy New Year…or happy whatever moment you find yourself in right now. May you find peace within your path, your past, and exactly where your feet are planted today.