The Power of Showing Up: Small Acts That Keep Us Sober
When I began my path to sobriety, I was lost and full of shame. I believed I was a deeply flawed human being, carrying a kind of suffering that no one could possibly understand. I thought I was broken in some fundamental way and destined to navigate life alone, void of the “village” we all hear about.
Like so many others, alcohol had taken up too much space in my life, and when I finally decided to put it down, I felt stripped of my identity, my social outlets, and my coping mechanisms all at once. Sobriety was supposed to feel like freedom, but in the beginning, it felt a lot like isolation. I quickly realized I didn’t know who I was without alcohol, it was really scary.
After some late-night googling, I discovered sober communities existed in all shapes and sizes. Some were traditional support groups, others were newer online spaces. I committed to a couple, quietly logging in with my camera off. For the first couple discussions, I just listened. I wasn’t ready to share, but something about being in the presence of others who “got it” gave me hope. Other women (this group was a women’s group) were sharing my struggles, my experiences.
Then, one day, I raised my hand. Through tears, all I could manage was: “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
And then it happened. Heads nodded. Comments poured in. I felt love and support at a whole new level.
For the first time in a very long time, maybe for the first time ever, I felt seen, heard, and understood. It was a game changer.
That moment marked the beginning of my understanding of service in sobriety.
Redefining Service
Before sobriety, I thought service meant something big. Donating hundreds of dollars to charity. Organizing a fundraiser. Spending entire weekends volunteering. Those things are valuable, of course, but sobriety taught me that service can also be small. In fact, sometimes it’s the smallest gestures that make the biggest impact.
Service can be:
Nodding your head when someone shares something vulnerable.
Saying “same here” or “you aren’t alone.”
Offering a smile or a private message of encouragement.
Sharing your story, even when it feels shaky or unfinished.
Listening without judgment.
Holding space in a meeting by showing up, even if you don’t say a word.
These acts might look insignificant to an outsider, but for someone who is struggling, they can be life-changing. I know, because they changed me.
The Ripple Effect of Showing Up
When I first entered sober spaces, I didn’t think I had anything to offer. I was too raw, too new, too messy. But I quickly realized that my very presence mattered.
Every time I showed up, even if I stayed silent, I was part of creating a safe space for someone else. My attendance signaled that this community was alive and worth belonging to. My quiet nods told another person that their pain was valid, that I understood without needing to say a word.
And when I finally did share, something magical happened: my words helped someone else. People messaged me privately to say, “Thank you for saying what I couldn’t put into words.” I couldn’t believe that my brokenness could be useful to another human being.
That’s when I understood that service in sobriety is mutually beneficial. By supporting others, I was also reinforcing my own recovery. Every time I reached out, I strengthened my commitment to stay sober. Every time I offered encouragement, I reminded myself of the truths I needed to hear.
From Fitting In to Belonging
Sobriety shifted something fundamental in me. I realized I no longer wanted to “fit in.” Fitting in, for me, had always meant twisting myself to match the people around me, laughing at jokes I didn’t find funny, drinking when I didn’t necessarily want to, pretending I was okay when I wasn’t.
In recovery, I crave something deeper: belonging. And belonging is built not through perfection or performance but through connection.
Service creates belonging. When I nod along to someone’s share, when I type “I hear you” in the chat box, when I participate in a book club or text a fellow traveler just to check in, that is me saying: You belong here. We belong here together.
And in return, I feel my own sense of belonging deepen. The very thing I once thought I lacked, the ability to connect authentically, has become an invaluable gift sobriety has given me.
Everyday Service
Service doesn’t always happen in a meeting. Sobriety has taught me to weave small acts of service into my everyday life.
Sometimes it’s answering the text of a sober friend who’s having a hard day. Sometimes it’s posting something honest about my own journey online, even if it makes me feel vulnerable. Sometimes it’s being present with my family in a way I couldn’t be when alcohol clouded everything.
Service is also about availability. Picking up the phone. Checking in on someone who has gone quiet. Offering to grab coffee and listen. None of these things take much time, but they carry weight. They say: I care. I’m here. You matter.
And here’s the secret: service keeps me sober. Because every time I step outside of my own head to show up for someone else, I’m reminded why I chose this path in the first place.
Mutual Healing
The beauty of service is that it doesn’t flow in just one direction. When I extend myself to others in sobriety, I receive something back every single time. Sometimes it’s gratitude. Sometimes it’s perspective. Sometimes it’s just a simple reminder that I’m not alone.
It’s a cycle of healing. I give, I receive. I show up, others show up. Together, we create something stronger than any one of us could carry alone.
I often think back to that first meeting, when I was in tears saying, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” If no one had nodded. If no one had spoken up. If no one had bothered to show up that day, I don’t know where I would be.
And that’s the point. We never really know the impact of our presence. But I’ve come to believe that showing up, simply and consistently, is one of the most powerful acts of service we can offer.
As you think about your own journey, some questions for reflection:
When was a time someone else’s presence made you feel less alone in sobriety?
What small acts of service have meant the most to you?
How might you offer those same gestures to someone else today?
In what ways has showing up for others strengthened your own recovery?
Where in your life could you practice service in small, everyday ways?
Sobriety isn’t a solo sport. It’s built on connection, service, and belonging. And sometimes, the most powerful thing we can do, the thing that keeps us sober, is simply to show up.
How about you?
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Thank you for this beautiful reminder and for your service, Keri. ❤️
Dear Keri,
Thank you for sharing your journey. I'm a former addict that also found the light through connection, albeit it was a virtual gathering called "I Am Sober." You can find links to it from my profile. You have a new follower, welcome to this platform if you've perhaps only recently arrived here.
Love never fails 🌾
Sincerely,
Horseman