T MOTH SOBRIETY
Tim Winters
My Sobriety Story
I grew up in a well-educated family with a father who went from a poor Kansas kid to Vice Chancellor at Syracuse University and a mother who went to Smith College. From the outside, it looked like a privileged upbringing, but inside, I never felt comfortable in my own skin. Early on I absorbed messages that what I said might be “stupid,” so I stayed quiet and shy. I learned about race and fear on playgrounds and basketball courts, often feeling like an outsider—whether as the only white kid on a basketball team, or the kid who tried to buy safety and acceptance by giving people things. I could be good at certain things—like algebra or track—but I rarely held onto those wins as part of my identity. By high school I’d learned to fit in by becoming the class clown, drifting between social groups, drinking, smoking pot, and using money and generosity as a way to feel liked, rather than feeling inherently worthy.
Alcohol became the tool I used to feel confident and connected, starting in my mid-teens with parties while my parents were away and escalating into blackouts, DUIs, driving on suspended licenses, and a long career of “functioning” while drinking heavily. I often chose alcohol, buddies, and good times over my wife, my son, and my responsibilities. Even when consequences came—DWIs, mandated AA meetings, marital strain, embarrassment—I usually managed to dodge the full emotional impact and “get off the hook,” which only fueled the cycle. Over time, alcohol was joined by other drugs, and while I appeared successful on the outside—career, travel, sports leagues, family—I was repeatedly risking my life and the lives of others. I checked every box in the pamphlets about alcoholism, but kept trying to control and manage my use instead of stopping.
In late 2022, failing a drug test my son gave me and seeing how deeply I had disappointed him finally broke through my denial. I entered detox, followed by stays at Ashley and the Freedom Center, and then an IOP in Winston-Salem. Somewhere between a small chapel at Father Martin’s, a talent show, sunrise Zoom meetings, and early-morning home groups, I began to surrender—to a Higher Power, to the AA program, and to the idea that I couldn’t do this alone. I built a life around meetings, prayer, the steps, the gym, journaling, and showing up differently for the people I love. Rebuilding my relationship with my son has been a slow, God-timed process, including a robust conversation about amends while playing golf on Christmas Day. Today, with almost three years of sobriety, I see AA not just as a program for alcoholics, but as a program for living. I don’t pretend I’m “cured”; I focus on staying sober just for today, protecting the relationships and life I’ve been given another chance to have.
"I’m best when I stay in the moment, appreciate my surroundings, and get comfortable being uncomfortable."
- TCW
Navigating Change
My sobriety journey has been less about a single moment of clarity and more about a slow, sometimes uncomfortable awakening. For a long time, I functioned well on the outside—career success, responsibility, reliability—while internally relying on alcohol to manage pressure, anxiety, and the constant feeling that I needed to stay one step ahead of everything. What ultimately brought me to sobriety wasn’t just what alcohol was doing to me, but what it was quietly taking away: presence, peace, and the ability to show up fully for the people I love and the life I was trying to build. Sobriety didn’t instantly fix everything, but it gave me something I hadn’t had in years—honesty with myself and the space to grow.
Today, my path forward is rooted in daily practices rather than big declarations: showing up, staying accountable, asking for help, and being willing to sit with discomfort instead of escaping it. Where I hope to help others is not by offering answers, but by offering proof—proof that you don’t have to hit a dramatic bottom to choose a better way, that progress can coexist with imperfection, and that strength often looks like vulnerability. If my story does anything, I hope it helps someone feel less alone, less broken, and more willing to take the next small step. Sobriety, for me, isn’t about removing something from my life—it’s about making room for connection, purpose, and the quiet confidence that comes from living in alignment with who I really am.
Empowering Success
I empower my success in sobriety by keeping it simple and intentional. I rely on daily structure—routine, connection, and honesty—because consistency matters more than motivation. When I stay accountable, ask for help, and take care of my physical and spiritual health, I give myself the best chance to stay grounded. Sobriety works for me when I focus on today, stay aligned with my values, and remember that showing up sober is the foundation for everything else in my life.
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