10/17/2025
I didn’t quit drinking because I wanted to — I quit because I had to.
365 days. One full year of sobriety.
I’ve thought about this moment for a long time. A year ago, I was at my lowest—mentally, emotionally, spiritually. I was exhausted, deep into haunt season, trying to hold myself together with vices that were only breaking me down.
When I finally chose to cut alcohol, it wasn’t because it was easy. It was because I was scared of what would happen if I didn’t. I had built so much of my current social life, my confidence, even my sense of belonging, around drinking. It felt like the glue that held everything together—but really, it was slowly pulling me apart.
I heard someone at an event say recently, “I’m not an alcoholic, I just attend a lot of gay events.” And I laughed, but it also hit hard. It’s wild how normalized drinking is, especially in q***r spaces. So many of our safe spaces revolve around booze, and I got swept up in that. It became my comfort, my coping mechanism, and my escape. Until it wasn’t.
Choosing to stop meant facing everything I’d been avoiding—my anxiety, my loneliness, my self-worth. It’s been uncomfortable, humbling, and at times isolating. I don’t go out as much anymore outside of my gigs, and sometimes being sober in a world that celebrates drinking makes me feel like the odd one out. But I’ve learned how to sit with those feelings, to breathe through them, and to keep showing up anyway.
A year later, I feel more me than I ever have. I’m more present. More grounded. I’ve found community again—through my drag haus, through my art, through love—and none of it needed to come from the bottom of a glass.
This hasn’t been a linear journey. There were nights I questioned if it was worth it, if I was even capable of doing this. But I am. I did.
Thank you to everyone who saw me, held space for me, and didn’t give up when I was barely holding on. You helped me make it to this moment.
Here’s to clarity. To growth. And to one year of coming home to myself.
