3 things i've learned during sober october
Updated: Nov 3
my goal was to be sober in my soul.
if you'd rather listen than read, i've left a recording of this entry below.
when most people think of sobriety, they think of substances. and while that's certainly one way to understand it, at the end of september, i found myself thinking about biblical sobriety and the many ways we alter our states of being without even realizing it. the things we consume and distractions we entertain. it’s in the noise we invite in and the things we (sometimes absentmindedly) reach for when we don't want to sit with ourselves.
so, for october, i decided to be more intentional about what i allowed to influence my mind and mood. for me, that meant no unnecessary stimulants or deliberately reaching for things that would manufacture a feeling or help me avoid one. nothing. not even caffeine.
spoiler alert: i wasn't sober the whole time. i had caffeine on friday, october 30, and it wasn't even a cup of coffee. i straight up chewed coffee beans. mind you, i don’t even drink coffee regularly! buttttt! i don't feel like i failed because perfection was never the assignment. the point was to try something new, pay attention to what surfaced, and adjust along the way.
so, here are three things the past 31 days have taught me:
1. don't boil the ocean
small steps can still get you where you need to go.
i was already on a journey of cutting out the noise in my life, and i feel like sober october was just an extension of that. i got off instagram a while ago, and i subsequently got off tiktok when i began the challenge. there's an addictive sense of freedom that being unplugged stirs, and i caught myself chasing that high, wondering what else i could eliminate. i realized, however, that if i wasn't careful, my pursuit of freedom could become another form of captivity.
2. silence surfaces what's suppressed
in june 2025, i took myself on a solo trip to jamaica and spent the first three days in total silence. not even music. the silence was unflinchingly naked, and it seduced me into surrender. i relinquished my ability to escape, and what ensued was a sifting of the soul. these past 31 days served a similar purpose: to help me discover what remains when distractions disappear. i'm still untangling what surfaced in those three days. most of it feels too raw to pour out on a public platform, but what i can tell you is that silence has a way of introducing you to parts of yourself that noise has helped you avoid. and sometimes, depending on the season, the introduction is all you can handle.
3. grief can impair your judgment the way drugs can
if you take someone who grew up in a chaotic environment and place them in another chaotic environment, there's a chance they'll fall right into step. but put that same person in a peaceful environment, and suddenly, the absence of chaos feels like chaos itself.
it's wild how what's unfamiliar can feel threatening, even when what's familiar is what hurt you in the first place. i've been thinking about how grief can have a similar effect.
grief can make the dangerous feel desirable and the familiar feel safe.
sometimes, the hole grief leaves is so deep that you stop asking what belongs there. you just want something, anything, heavy enough to fill it. something substantial enough to keep you grounded when grief shakes your foundation and causes you to lose your footing.
but that's the danger...when you're desperate for something to hold you up, it's easy to mistake weight for stability. but a bomb and a bridge are two very different things. one destroys the path forward while the other creates one. i'm learning to forgive myself for the bombs i mistook for bridges and the bridges i blew up in the process.
it's strange to look back with a clearer mind and recognize just how much pain was influencing my perception of what was good for me. i'm not suggesting that grief absolves us of responsibility. understanding why we make certain decisions is different from excusing them.
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