10 Months Sober: How Golf Helped Save My Life

Sobriety anniversaries are often private milestones. But today, I’m sharing mine publicly—not for applause, but for accountability, for others struggling in silence, and for the power of community.

Ten months ago, I decided to stop drinking. It wasn’t because I hit rock bottom in the dramatic way movies like to show. It was quieter, slower—death by a thousand mental cuts. I wasn’t living. I was coping.

But something changed. A small shift. A morning walk. A round of golf. A conversation with my wife. A mental nudge that said: “You’re meant for more than this.”

This is the story of my 10-month journey toward healing—and the role golf, Queen City Golf, and this incredible community have played in helping me stay the course.

The Breaking Point

I didn’t wake up one day and decide I was an alcoholic. In fact, for years, I convinced myself I wasn’t. I was just someone who liked to “unwind,” to “celebrate,” to “take the edge off.”

But slowly, alcohol became the edge.

I was functioning—working, creating content, showing up. But inside? I was hollow. The highs weren’t real, and the lows were getting lower. Anxiety, depression, self-doubt, shame—they were always lurking after the buzz wore off.

For me, it wasn’t about hitting rock bottom. It was about realizing the life I wanted—the one filled with purpose, presence, and passion—was on the other side of sobriety.

Choosing Sobriety

When I made the decision to quit, I was terrified. What would people think? How would I handle social settings? Would I lose my edge in content creation? Would I still feel like myself?

The first week was brutal. The first month felt like an identity crisis.

But I started stacking wins. I showed up to the gym. I started filming more golf content. I spent real time with my wife without alcohol numbing the conversation. And most importantly—I started feeling again. Clarity. Gratitude. Growth.

Golf became my sanctuary. My sober companion.

Golf as a Recovery Tool

There’s something about golf that mirrors sobriety. It demands patience, presence, and persistence. There are bad rounds, shanked shots, long walks between holes. But there are also moments—pure, beautiful moments—when everything clicks. You hit it flush, and suddenly, you're reminded why you showed up in the first place.

Golf gave me space to reflect. It gave me community without needing a drink in my hand. It gave me goals to chase that had nothing to do with a bar tab. I started channeling my energy into Queen City Golf—sharing stories, building connections, and finding purpose in a game that’s about so much more than scorecards.

Through this game, I’ve met other sober golfers. People who message me quietly: “I’ve been struggling too. Thanks for sharing.” And that’s what keeps me going.

What I’ve Gained in 10 Months

Here’s what’s happened in 10 months of sobriety:

• I’ve built deeper relationships—with my wife, my friends and family, my audience.

• I’ve created content I’m proud of—not performative, but personal and purposeful.

• I’ve partnered with brands that align with my values, not just my follower count.

• I’ve learned how to sit with hard emotions without trying to escape them.

Sobriety hasn’t made life easier. It’s made it real. And for the first time in years, I like the guy I see in the mirror.

A Message for Anyone Struggling

If you’re reading this and alcohol is quietly wrecking your peace, I want you to know: you’re not broken. You’re not weak. You’re just human—and healing is possible.

Start small. Tell one person. Go for a walk instead of a drink. Play nine holes. Journal. Meditate. Do something—anything—that reminds you you’re alive.

And if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. No judgment. No agenda. Just someone who’s been in the storm and is finally seeing the sun again.

The Next Chapter

As I approach one year sober, I don’t have all the answers. But I have one unshakable truth: alcohol will never give me what sobriety has.

Queen City Golf isn’t just about fairways and birdies. It’s about finding purpose through passion. It’s about using golf as a bridge to talk about the real stuff—mental health, identity, growth.

To those who’ve supported me: thank you. To those silently struggling: I see you.

Let’s keep walking this fairway—one sober step at a time.