“I love your honesty, Barb.”
Almost four and a half years since I took my last drink of alcohol, those words marked a significant milestone greater than the number of years I’ve been sober.
They symbolized the profound transformation that transcended the time I had been alcohol-free.
They were the U-turn of the accusation I heard so many times from friends and loved ones before I reached the critical point in my drinking.
“You’re such a liar!” they would tell me.
And I was.
I lied mostly by denying how much I was drinking … the drinking I did to hide the complete emptiness that kept me reaching for a drink every time the feelings broke the surface and threatened to overwhelm me.
I lied to others. But I told the biggest lies to myself.
They weren’t always outright lies. They were a lot more like not telling the whole truth. But no matter what word you use to sugarcoat it, not telling the truth is a lie.
And then, just like that, more than four years after my last drink — years after I had stopped counting my days of sobriety — a comment on one of my articles marked a significant milestone I had not even anticipated.
“I love your honesty, Barb,” wrote Diana Leotta.
When I first read the comment, I didn’t realize the impact of those words. But as the day wore on, they hit me.
I’ve always been a “there’s a reason for everything” person.
This statement showed that I had reached a milestone in my life and that writing about my experience — instead of hiding it behind a wall of shame — could help others.
Writing is my reason. It is a God-given gift. It is my weapon of choice.
Alcohol distracted me from it. Sobriety gave me back my inspiration.
What about you? What is your milestone moment?
The number of days you’ve been sober — not only from alcohol but from whatever crutch you’re using to keep you from facing your demons — will one day be insignificant.
And then the real milestone tiptoes into your heart.
Watch for it.
Trading Barbs With Barb 