For years, my mornings started the same way: head in my hands, a stomach full of dread, shame pressing down on me heavier than the hangover itself. I used to joke about “shameovers” and “hangxiety,” but there was nothing funny about waking up every single day promising myself I’d do better—only to hit repeat.

I can’t even count how many times I declared a fresh start. Day one, again. Then again. And again. It was exhausting. I thought it meant I was broken. Weak. Failing where everyone else seemed to be succeeding.

But now I see it differently: those thousand day ones weren’t failures, they were practice. They were me trying. They were me refusing to give up, even when it felt impossible.

The Turning Point

There wasn’t a single lightning-bolt moment where everything changed. It was more like a quiet accumulation of tiny truths I could no longer ignore:

• I was tired of feeling hollow—inside and out.
• I was sick of breaking promises to myself.
• I couldn’t stand to look in the mirror anymore, figuratively or literally.

At some point, I realized that I wasn’t the exception. The rules applied to me, too. And those rules were simple:

🧘 Meditation works.
🚶🏼‍♀️ Walking works.
🛌 Sleep heals.
📚 Reading helps.
🍷 Sobriety (for me) was the game-changer.
🌈 Letting go + asking for help works.

Not overnight. Not in some perfect, linear way. But slowly, steadily, those things worked.

Why Not You?

I don’t love the phrase “if I can do it, you can do it,” because life isn’t one-size-fits-all. My obstacles aren’t your obstacles. My circumstances aren’t your circumstances.

But here’s what I do believe: if you’re in your thousand day ones right now, you’re not broken. You’re building. Every time you try again, you’re learning. Practicing. Getting stronger, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

The day will come when one of those day ones sticks. And when it does, everything can start to change—not just the habit itself, but everything connected to it. For me, that one decision made every other area of my life better. And better. And better.

Looking Back

Today, 4+ years sober, I can look at old photos and barely recognize the person staring back. Other people say they don’t remember me looking that way—but I remember how I felt. Hollow. Empty. Disconnected.

Now, I look like I feel: brighter, lighter, more alive. Not perfect—because perfection is an illusion—but whole. Content. Free.

If You’re in the Middle of Your Day Ones…

Keep going. Keep trying. Keep showing up for yourself.

It may take one day one, or a hundred, or a thousand. But every attempt is moving you closer to the life you want, even if it doesn’t feel like it yet.

Your day will come.