Category: Written by Jessica

I wanted to share something powerful from Atomic Habits by James Clear, a book I’m currently leading a study on. These two quotes really hit home when it comes to recovery:

📖 “Research has shown that once a person believes in a particular aspect of their identity, they are more likely to act in alignment with that belief.”

In Atomic Habits, James Clear shares an example of two people quitting smoking—one who says, “I’m trying to quit,” and another who confidently states, “I don’t smoke.” The difference? Identity. The person who sees themselves as a non-smoker is far more likely to succeed.

Now, let’s apply this to quitting drinking. How we see ourselves in recovery matters. If we identify as “someone who struggles to stay sober” or “someone trying to quit drinking,” we may unintentionally reinforce that struggle. Saying “I’m trying to quit” carries an underlying narrative of doubt—“I still drink, but I’m trying not to.” But when we shift our identity—“I am a non-drinker,” “I am someone who prioritizes my well-being”—our actions naturally start to align with that belief.

A person declining a drink – Where do you fall?
Person 1: Outcome based- wants to just quit drinking	Person 2: Identity-based. Chooses to identify as a non-drinker.
When offered a drink, they say, “No thanks. I’m trying to quit.”	When offered a drink, they say, “No thanks. I’m not a drinker.”

Every time you choose not to drink, set a boundary, or show up for yourself, you’re casting a vote for the person you’re becoming. It’s not about perfection; it’s about building evidence that supports your new identity.

Take a moment to reflect:
✨ How has your sense of identity shifted since choosing sobriety?
✨ What small “votes” have you cast recently that align with the person you want to be?
✨ When self-doubt creeps in, how can you remind yourself that your identity is built by actions, not perfection?
✨ What new identity are you working toward in your recovery, and how can you reinforce it in your daily habits?

Upcoming Opportunities

Six-Week Writing for Healing Program. Starts March 2025. Register here!

Life Coaching Open to new clients starting in March! Click here to learn about my coaching services and get on the waiting list!

Free Writing for Healing Workshop. Access here 

Podcast Listen to the Bottomless to Sober Podcast. Episodes 1-58 are live! Episode 52 features NYT Bestselling author, Jessica Lahey!

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Last week, the students had returned to campus, and the residence hall buzzed with their excitement for the start of the spring semester. Their chatter echoed through the hallways as I stepped out of my staff apartment, Amara wrapped snugly against my chest, to take out the trash. A wave of unexpected shame crept over me. What are they thinking of me—a woman with a baby—living here in a college residence hall?

For context, after leaving the K–12 classroom, I transitioned into higher education and now work as a residence hall director. My home is nestled within a building that houses 650 college students, most of whom are 19 years old and still figuring out life. I love my job—it’s rewarding in ways I didn’t expect—but living among hundreds of students with developing brains and opinions influenced by their upbringing isn’t for the faint of heart.

Still, as I stood there holding Amara, I felt the weight of those opinions, real or imagined. Why did I care what they thought about me? Why was my body reacting as if I’d done something wrong?

One of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned in recovery is this: every emotion, even discomfort, is an opportunity to learn about myself. So I leaned into the feeling and began to examine it.

I realized the shame wasn’t coming from the students. It was rooted in societal norms I hadn’t yet confronted. I’m no stranger to unpacking these norms—deciding which ones serve me and which don’t. For example, when I sold my house in Louisville to move into my sister’s guest room in Tampa, it might have looked like failure from the outside. But that house wasn’t helping me stay sober, and I needed a fresh start. Or when I intentionally chose to remain childless for years, despite societal pressure, until I felt ready to fully show up as a mother.

Yet, despite my past work on rejecting certain societal expectations, I hadn’t done that same work for my transition into motherhood. The shame I felt in front of those students came from internalized messages like these:

• You should be married before having children.
• You should own a house to raise a child.
• Both parents should live under the same roof.

As I broke down each belief, clarity emerged. None of these things defined the kind of mother I wanted to be. What matters most is how I show up for my daughter. In Mother Hunger, Kelly McDaniel describes the ideal mother as one who nurtures, provides guidance, and protects her child. That’s the kind of mother I am striving to be. I don’t need a marriage certificate, a house, or a traditional living arrangement to do that. What I need is to hold tight to my sobriety, which provides the foundation for everything else.

So the next time you feel shame creeping in, pause. Slow down and examine it. Ask yourself: Is this shame because of something I’ve done that makes me feel unworthy of connection? Or is it because I’ve bought into a narrative that doesn’t truly serve me?

For me, letting go of those narratives has made room for something much greater: the freedom to show up for Amara as the mother I always hoped I could be.

Upcoming Opportunities

Atomic Habits Book Study With The Luckiest Club. Starts February 1st. Register here!

Six-Week Writing for Healing Program. Starts March 2025. Register here!

Life Coaching Open to new clients starting in March! Click here to learn about my coaching services and get on the waiting list!

Free Writing for Healing Workshop. Access here 

Podcast Listen to the Bottomless to Sober Podcast. Episodes 1-55 are live! Episode 52 features NYT Bestselling author, Jessica Lahey!

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If you’ve been following me for a while, you already know: the block button and I are close—borderline inseparable. Like rice and beans, or me and a Law and Order SVU marathon, we just work.

I’ve used the block button with pride and precision over the years. Case in point: when someone crawls out of the woodwork on social media to drop an inappropriate or offensive comment, I don’t waste time arguing or debating. Oh no. Blocked. Swiftly. Efficiently. I ask myself, “Does this spark joy?” and if the answer is no—goodbye.

Then there was that time a distant cousin decided to reach out. You’d think it was to offer support after I lost my oldest sister. Nope. They popped up just to complain about my other sisters. Did we have a close bond before this? Absolutely not. Did I see this as an opportunity to build one? Also no. Blocked. Not here for surprise family drama disguised as condolences.

Fast forward to the latest episode of Who Wants to Be Blocked Next? Another family member—one I’ve literally never had a relationship with—decides to get offended because I’m choosing to…continue not having a relationship with them. Suddenly, they’re expecting baby photos of my daughter, demanding conversation, and when I politely (okay, firmly) say, “No, thank you,” they flood my phone with texts escalating toward me because I’m not letting them into my life after 39 years of them not being there.

They too were blocked.

The moral of the story? This year has already kicked off with enough chaos to make the apocalypse look like a warm-up act. Our timelines and newsfeeds are overflowing with difficult circumstances beyond our control, and in a world that feels increasingly out of hand, protecting our peace (and by extension, our sobriety) isn’t just optional—it’s essential.

Here’s the thing: boundaries aren’t just a nice idea—they’re survival. If you’re not sure what your limits are, it’s time to slow down and let your body do the talking. Does your heart start racing like it’s trying to win a marathon when someone texts or calls? Does your stomach feel like it’s being dropped off a cliff at the thought of dealing with a particular person? Does the mere idea of letting someone into your life fill you with a sense of impending doom?

Take a breath. You already know what your limits are. You just need to honor them and protect yourself.

In 2025, let’s focus on controlling what we can, and that includes deciding if and how we let people into our lives. Not everyone deserves a seat at your table, and that’s perfectly okay.

Now it’s your turn: what’s the wildest, most ridiculous, or downright satisfying reason you’ve ever had to hit the block button? Please reply and share your stories of boundary-setting brilliance below—I’d love to read them in between baby diaper changes!

Upcoming Opportunities

Atomic Habits Book Study With The Luckiest Club. Starts February 1st. Register here!

Six-Week Writing for Healing Program. Starts March 2025. Register here!

Life Coaching Open to new clients starting in March! Click here to learn about my coaching services and get on the waiting list!

Free Writing for Healing Workshop. Access here 

Podcast Listen to the Bottomless to Sober Podcast. Episodes 1-54 are live! Episode 52 features NYT Bestselling author, Jessica Lahey!

Subscribe below to get these posts in your inbox in the future.

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Sobriety taught me to confront the unknown—and to come out stronger for it. These past two weeks have been a testament to that truth.

The birth of my daughter, Amara, was originally planned for December 29th, the start of my 39th week of pregnancy. At 39 years old, categorized as “advanced maternal age,” I was deemed high-risk, and the idea of a scheduled induction gave me a sense of control in a journey fraught with unpredictability.

But life had other plans. On Thursday, December 19th, during one of my routine twice-weekly prenatal visits, the tone shifted. The nurse noted protein in my urine, and my blood pressure had spiked. I tried to rationalize it: “It’s because I’ve been so worried about my mom.” My doctor, steady and serious, gently countered, “Regardless of the cause, your risk for preeclampsia is significant. Be prepared to deliver sooner than expected since you’re already at term.”

Tears welled up. Yes, I longed to meet my daughter, but not yet. I had clung to December 29th as a lifeline, a date that gave me time to brace for the unknown. Despite the readiness of Amara’s nursery, I didn’t feel ready to face labor or step into motherhood. After leaving the doctor’s office, I raced through a grocery store, filling my cart with anything I could think of. Panic and resolve battled within me as the reality sank in: I couldn’t control this.

Sobriety had prepared me for navigating fear and uncertainty, but this was a new test. Still, deep down, I knew—as I had before—that I would face this unknown and emerge stronger.

That afternoon, the doctor called. “It’s time. Report to the hospital at 9 PM for induction.” Pulling over on the drive home, I let out heavy sobs. This was it.

Two days later, at 7:12 AM on December 21st, Amara was born, and I crossed the threshold into motherhood. Though I’ve grown confident in navigating many areas of my life, I’m reminded daily of how much I still have to learn.

Did you know diapers now have yellow lines that turn blue when wet? Or that feeding a baby while they’re lying flat can lead to ear infections? Breastfeeding, they say, is best—but how can you know if your baby is getting enough? That nebulous uncertainty gnawed at me until a pediatrician appointment confirmed what my inner knowing had been whispering: Amara wasn’t getting enough and it was hurting her. That day, I shifted her nutrition plan, supplementing breast milk with formula to meet her needs.

Before the doctor’s confirmation, I couldn’t explain how I knew something was off. My sister called it mother’s instinct. The truth is, my inner knowing—an unshakable clarity—has guided me time and again when I’ve slowed down enough to listen. Becoming a mother didn’t grant me this gift; my sobriety uncovered it years ago. 

As I step into 2025 fumbling with pumps, bottles, and dirty diapers that surprisingly smell delicious (is that weird?), I hold onto this: I have an inner knowing that’s always been with me. My recovery gives me the clarity to tap into it, and in moments of stillness between Amara’s coos and cries, I can close my eyes and listen. That knowing—steady and true—will lead me forward this coming year.

Wishing you and yours a peaceful 2025, thank you for being a part of this journey. 

Upcoming Opportunities

Life Coaching Closed for new clients until 2025, but click here to learn about my coaching services and get on the waiting list!

Six-Week Writing for Healing Program. Starts March 2025. Register here!

Free Writing for Healing Workshop. Access here 

Podcast Listen to the Bottomless to Sober Podcast. Episodes 1-53 are live! Episode 52 features NYT Bestselling author, Jessica Lahey!

Subscribe below to get these posts in your inbox in the future.

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“the battle is over 

i’m done fighting myself

stressing over what i’ve done 

or what i should have done 

simply does not help

i want to see myself without pointing fingers 

to move forward with grace 

to see mistakes as lessons 

and allow them to improve 

my future actions

instead of being attached to the past 

i want to peacefully connect to the present”

-Yung Pueblo

This ongoing fight we often find ourselves in goes beyond what this poem alone can express. It’s not just about wrestling with the person we used to be, especially in our case when we drank—the mistakes, the regrets—but also with the uncontrollable forces that shape our lives.

Take this past week, for example. Hurricane Helene brought devastation across the southeastern U.S., and living here in Tampa, near the bay, meant anxiety set in quickly as soon as the news buzzed about a potential hurricane moving up the Gulf of Mexico. I had a plan for my week, but in an instant, that plan no longer mattered. Almost mockingly, I could hear my mother’s voice echoing: “Uno pone y Dios dispone” (we make plans, and then there’s God’s plan).

As the county’s evacuation order rolled out, the frustration bubbled up inside me. The heat of resentment was almost palpable—toward Florida’s climate, what felt like a slow response, even the inconvenience of leaving home. Why can’t evacuation be a calm, organized process instead of this panic? I thought while hurriedly packing Cruz’s things—his food, bed, bones, and snacks—under his watchful gaze.

What I missed this week was an important reminder: it’s crucial to let go of attachment to things we can’t control. Peace comes when we can release that grip. Until we do, we’ll keep fighting—not just against ourselves but against the world around us. My week would have been much easier on my body if I had leaned more on that, but I’ll give myself grace as I’m only a human, and hurricanes are incredibly stressful and terrifying events.

Reflect:
When was the last time you found yourself in a struggle against something out of your control? How do you catch yourself and bring yourself back?

Want to Explore More on Control?
I have a worksheet on letting go of what’s out of your control and an episode from the Bottomless to Sober Podcast on control. You can find both linked here.

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Upcoming Opportunities

Book Study on the Book of Boundaries. Starts October 3 with The Luckiest Club. Register here.

Life Coaching Closed for new clients until 2025, but click here to learn about my coaching services!

Six-Week Writing for Healing Program. Join the waitlist for the next round here here!

Free Writing for Healing Workshop. Access here 

Podcast Listen to the Bottomless to Sober Podcast. Episodes 1-53 are live! Episode 52 features NYT Bestselling author, Jessica Lahey!

Subscribe below to get these posts in your inbox in the future.

Subscribe

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