I currently live in a North Dakota town of 200 people. The closest meeting is 50 miles away and is held at 8:00 P.M. To travel at night is no longer an option for me.

God teaches me life lessons in the weirdest ways. Often he makes me think that I am the teacher when, in fact, I’m the student.

I’m 44 and I’ve worked in the oil industry since 1992. I got sober young in AA in 1995.

The newest member of our AA group here in Costa Rica is a titi monkey. He’s not the first wild animal we’ve had visit us. Many sloths have come in too.

There’s a little flyer passed around at many AA meetings every year, called “Twelve Tips on Keeping Your Holiday Season Sober and Joyous.” On it, it says “Many of us have enjoyed the ha

I got sober in AA in 1991. I got a sponsor, and we worked all 12 Steps. I attended meetings regularly and did service. Then came December of 1994.

Early in my sobriety, even though I had done the Steps and was sponsoring women, I began to feel something was missing.

I’d been sober in AA for six months now, and this was my first New Year’s Eve not drinking. I was spending it with my husband, who doesn’t drink and never has.

When I see a suffering alcoholic, I want to reach out. I want them to know that they’re not alone. But we often don’t know if our words and actions help others.

Compared to other geezers like me, I’m either blessed or extremely lucky. I truly believe my Higher Power got me sober. However, he always held off telling me why he did so.

A few days ago, someone in the program outed me at my place of work in public, in front of people I directly supervise and others. It was jarringly inappropriate.

I’m an alcoholic. I am also a left-hander, an aunt, a musician, a woodworker, a Catholic school survivor, and I’m gay.

I had been married for nearly 17 years when I decided I wanted to be sober. My marriage was hanging by a thread, and my husband and I had been discussing separation and divorce.

One morning, at the very beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, about four of us were in our virtual AA meeting.

My wife, our two kids, our nephew and the family dog had just left Portland, Oregon on a family vacation to Disneyland in the summer of 2003.

My sobriety date is March 13, 2020. That was a Friday, the day when New York City started its COVID-19 lockdown.

I was about four months sober when I asked Bill to be my sponsor. I went over to his apartment with my Big Book. He handed me a composition notebook and a highlighter.

At 15 years of sobriety, I was in my car, rocking forward and in reverseover the vehicle sensors of an excruciatingly long traffic signal, trying to impose my will on the light to make