By the time I finally found myself sitting in my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, alcohol had already dominated nearly three decades of my life. That’s almost my entire adulthood, wasted in a cycle of chaos and destruction I could no longer deny. In the early days, when I started drinking as a teenager, it was all about the fun—the buzz, the laughter, the social connection. But for me, that feeling never lasted. The fun always seemed to slip away far too quickly. While others knew when to stop, or at least how to slow down, I didn’t. My party always ran too long, too wild, too dark. I never seemed able to close the tab—physically or emotionally—and I crossed lines I promised myself I wouldn’t, over and over again.
It wasn’t until I was 46 years old that I finally admitted complete defeat. Looking back, I can barely recognise the person I’d become. I hadn’t just lost control—I’d lost me. The drinking had hollowed me out to the point where I forgot who I was beneath it all. But amidst that spiritual emptiness, there was one small light that refused to go out: the memory of the faith-filled childhood my mum gave me. She had poured so much love and time into raising me in the Christian faith, teaching me to pray, to trust, to be honest, and to love others as myself. Of course, during my darkest years, I saw all of that as a burden. I rejected it. I ran from it. I mocked it. But still, those early seeds never truly died. They just lay dormant, waiting for me to be ready to return.
And when the fog finally began to lift in early sobriety, those seeds started to sprout again. I began to remember. Not just the principles I’d learned, but the person I’d once aspired to be. The values my mum had instilled in me—humility, honesty, faith, courage, gratitude, service—were all cornerstones of the AA way of life. It was almost as if the 12 Steps were gently guiding me back to the truth I’d known all along. That realisation didn’t come all at once, but day by day, as I worked the programme, I began to feel less like I was becoming someone new and more like I was finally returning home to who I’d always been.
In many ways, I feel I was given a head start. I didn’t have to invent a whole new way of living—I just had to remember the one I was taught before the madness set in. I began to reconnect with the spiritual foundation my mum had built with me in my childhood. She never forced it, never gave up, and never judged me. She simply waited, loving me from a distance, trusting in the God she believed in to bring me back when I was ready. That patience is something I’ll never fully understand or deserve. And yet it saved me.
Today, I live with a heart full of gratitude. Gratitude for the fellowship of AA, which gave me a path when I thought I had none. Gratitude for my mum, who never stopped praying for me, even when I gave her every reason to. And gratitude to my God—her God—who I now understand was with me all along. It was through my mum that I first met Him, and it was through surrender that I finally heard Him calling me back. Every sober day I live now is a gift I once believed I didn’t deserve. But now, I know it’s grace. And for that, I am grateful—deeply, humbly, and every single day.
Humility facing facts, in the moment we stand,
A mirror held to heart and hand.
No false pretences, pride laid bare,
Alcoholics, burdens we all share.
Honesty, a guiding light,
Dispelling shadows, setting things right.
No room for lies, no hidden sin,
Vulnerability lets the healing begin.
Faith, a hand to hold us fast,
Through trials dark, or storms that blast.
In the program, in a strength above,
Letting go, with trust and love.
Courage, the will to face the day,
Without the crutch that stole our way.
To stand our ground, with voices strong,
Where fear once held us, all life long.
Gratitude, for gifts received, a grateful heart,
Contentment found, where shadows depart.
An illumination, of joy and grace,
Sobriety's song, in a grateful space.
Service, the bridge that binds us near,
Lifting others, dispelling fear.
In giving back, humility's embrace,
The fellowship thrives, by love's warm trace.
These six pillars, a guiding light,
On the path to peace, where shadows take flight.
In A.A.'s embrace, a hand to hold,
A story shared, a future bold.
