No Shots, Just Thoughts is our quick-hit segment where we answer questions submitted by our listeners and followers. Nothing is scripted, nothing is rehearsed—just honest conversations, personal experiences, and our unfiltered thoughts on recovery, sobriety, relationships, and life. In 15 minutes or less, we tackle the questions you're asking and give you our real answers.

This week, we sit down with Kaela, who has 15 years sober and a story that challenges the idea that recovery is always a straight line.

Before we begin, we want to acknowledge that this episode was filmed in a new location, and we appreciate your patience with some of the technical issues and delays we've experienced recently.

Kaela began trying to get sober when she was just 15 years old. While many people don't find recovery until later in life, she knew early on that something wasn't right. After being invited to her first AA meeting by a friend from school, she hoped she had finally found a place where she belonged. Instead, she was told by people in the rooms that she seemed to have mental health issues and that the Twelve Steps might not be for her. The message she walked away with was devastating: recovery was for other people, but not for her.

That experience left a lasting wound. For years, Kaela carried the belief that she didn't belong anywhere.

She stopped drinking at 19 and went to rehab, but continued smoking marijuana. While alcohol was no longer part of the picture, she remained deeply attached to weed and couldn't imagine life without it. That attachment eventually led her to move to a marijuana farm in Northern California, where her use felt normalized and even encouraged. For a long time, she couldn't see that it was a problem.

But when she moved back to Orange County and began smoking again, everything changed.

As Kaela describes it, "the weed turned on me."

What had once felt comforting suddenly became terrifying. She began experiencing intense panic attacks, often feeling like she couldn't breathe. Her mom would sit with her and reassure her that she was okay. Despite the fear, Kaela couldn't let it go. She continued trying to manage it, control it, and make it work.

Then came her 23rd birthday.

Before smoking, she told a friend, "If I get weird, just remind me to breathe."

And that's exactly what happened.

But this time, something shifted. In the middle of that experience, Kaela had what she describes as a spiritual awakening. She realized she had spent years trying to make marijuana work for her, while never once giving the same effort to making sobriety work.

That was the day she chose recovery.

There was only one condition: she wasn't going to AA.

For the next several years, Kaela stayed sober through sheer willpower. She lived on a weed farm without smoking, white-knuckled her way through life, got married abroad, and continued creating chaos while convincing herself she was doing okay. Looking back, she describes those years as living in a fantasy reality—physically sober but emotionally and spiritually stuck.

Eventually, she reached a point where she knew something had to change. The same fellowship she had once sworn off became the very thing she needed. When Kaela finally returned to AA and began working the program with an open mind, she discovered something she never thought possible: belonging.

In this episode, Kaela shares how her resentment toward recovery almost kept her from the life she has today, the danger of substituting one substance for another, and the difference between simply not using and truly recovering. She speaks candidly about the years she spent trying to control everything herself and how freedom finally came when she stopped fighting the process.

Fifteen years later, Kaela's story is a powerful reminder that recovery isn't about finding the perfect path—it's about being willing to try again, even after you've convinced yourself it won't work. Sometimes the thing we resist the most is exactly what we've been looking for all along.

This week, we sit down with Jaden, who has a year and a half sober and a story rooted in resilience, identity, and discovering who she truly is without substances.

Jaden shares that this is her first real attempt at sobriety. Before finding recovery, she tried to do it on her own — with her longest stretch lasting only a few weeks. Without knowledge of recovery or support, the cycle always pulled her back in. For nearly a decade, she was involved in sex work, with meth as her drug of choice, fueling a lifestyle that became increasingly difficult to escape.

She opens up about trying to get sober in Mexico, only to find herself using again after connecting with someone on a dating app. Back in the States, she entered a relationship with a man who had years of sobriety before they met — someone who would ultimately introduce her to recovery, but also become part of the chaos. Their relationship was marked by cycles of using, dishonesty, and instability, even as he planted the idea that they both needed to get sober.

Jaden’s first experience with treatment, in Santa Monica, didn’t stick. She admits she was doing it for other people, not for herself. After leaving early, she immediately returned to using. But everything began to shift when she got a call from a place called Vera Sanctuary. This time, something felt different. Surrounded by nature and a sense of peace, Jaden began to open up. Listening to panels and hearing others’ stories gave her a sense of hope she hadn’t felt before — and for the first time, she truly leaned in.

Her journey wasn’t without setbacks. Around 60 days into the program, her partner — who claimed to be sober — tested positive. Despite initial confusion and denial, the truth surfaced. During a brief time together, Jaden relapsed, resetting her sobriety date. Not long after, she learned he had been pursuing other relationships while she was in treatment. That became a turning point. When he relapsed again, Jaden made the decision to walk away for good.

Since then, she has remained committed to her recovery. She chose not to date during her first year, focusing instead on building a foundation within herself. When she finally did begin dating again, it came with new awareness — and new challenges.

In this episode, Jaden speaks candidly about navigating sobriety as a trans woman living with HIV. While she is no longer detectable, she shares the emotional weight of stigma and the difficulty of feeling truly seen and accepted. It’s an honest and vulnerable look at the layers of identity that continue to shape her journey.

Today, Jaden has come full circle — now working at the same treatment center that helped change her life, leading groups and giving back to others who are where she once was.

Her message is both simple and powerful: find out who you are in sobriety. The growth, she says, lives in the things we try to avoid. And ultimately, recovery is a choice — you can wear it like a straight jacket, or like a loose garment.

Jaden’s story is about reclaiming your life, embracing your truth, and learning that happiness isn’t something you find — it’s something you build, one honest step at a time.

This week, we sit down with Jacob, who has two and a half years sober and a story that captures the quiet shift from doing recovery for others… to finally choosing it for yourself.

Jacob opens up about a thought he carried with him early on — an “out” he had already planned. In his mind, he would stay sober for two years, and then most likely go back home, because deep down, he didn’t feel like he was doing it for himself. While he had always been social before sobriety, his first two years were marked by isolation and loneliness, leaving him questioning what this life was really for.

That began to change when he attended Camp Sober Fest to celebrate two years sober. It was there, surrounded by connection and community, that something clicked. For the first time, Jacob found a reason to stay sober that actually belonged to him.

Looking back, his story before sobriety was filled with chaos and broken promises. He shares about a trip to Martha’s Vineyard, where he had committed to staying sober for his family — a promise that quickly unraveled. Within days, he found himself using again, eventually leading to a blackout, a confrontation with his dad, and a night spent in jail on the island. That moment became a turning point. After refusing to return to his family’s house, he stayed with his aunt, where his sister called and предложed a new plan: go to California and get sober.

What was supposed to be a quick turnaround became delayed when Jacob tested positive for COVID, forcing him to sit still longer than he wanted. But eventually, he made it to California — this time with a different opportunity in front of him.

Although he had been to treatment before, Jacob admits the goal was never true sobriety — just learning how to manage his drinking. This time was different. He committed to a long-term program, staying in treatment for a full year and fully immersing himself in recovery.

Once there, Jacob hit the ground running. He quickly got a sponsor and worked the steps within three months — and then did them again. And again. Now on his fourth round of steps with his fourth sponsor, he shares honestly about the struggle to find the right connection — someone he could call without it feeling forced. That willingness to keep trying reflects the deeper work he’s committed to today.

He stayed busy in the rooms, attending up to nine meetings a week and building a foundation through consistency. By six months sober, he was already secretary of three meetings, a role that helped him build accountability and connection. For Jacob, simply showing up — over and over again — became the key to finding his place.

In this episode, Jacob also speaks to his experience as one of the only Black men in many of the rooms he attends, something that mirrors much of his upbringing. While he acknowledges the lack of diversity in Orange County, he shares his perspective with honesty — recognizing both the challenges and his own experience within it.

He reflects on early sobriety mistakes, including going out to bars during his first few months — something that eventually caught up with him when his sober living found out. Watching friends relapse during that time became a powerful lesson that helped reinforce his own commitment. He also shares about navigating relationships in sobriety, including dating someone who relapsed, and how he learned to sit with life as it is — without escaping.

As his sobriety grew, so did his life. From learning how to build a resume and work a “normal” job, to gaining experience in sales and eventually transitioning into a role as an overnight tech at a treatment center, Jacob began to see a future take shape. Now, he’s back in school pursuing a business degree, with the goal of one day owning his own detox and residential facility.

At the heart of Jacob’s story is a simple but powerful message: keep showing up. Even when it feels awkward, even when it feel

This week, we sit down with Mauricio, who has two years of sobriety and a story that speaks to identity, resilience, and finding belonging in a world where he often felt like he didn’t fit.

Originally Colombian, Mauricio grew up in South Central Los Angeles, navigating life between cultures — feeling “too white” for the Hispanic community and “too Hispanic” for everyone else. As a gay man, that sense of not belonging only deepened, shaping both his identity and his path into addiction.

Mauricio shares how he first got sober after hitting a breaking point while squatting in someone else’s condo. Desperate, he called his parents for help, and they arranged for him to go to a treatment center in Mexico. What followed was an experience he describes as surreal, confusing, and ultimately traumatic.

After visiting an upscale facility that left him overwhelmed and fearful, Mauricio chose to trust his parents’ judgment and entered a second center — one that, in his state at the time, felt almost like a movie set. But within weeks, the reality became clear. His detox took place in what he describes as an old horse stable, locked and isolated. He wasn’t allowed to contact his family or leave, and punishments for attempting to escape were severe. Guards monitored patients constantly, and conditions were harsh and inhumane.

Mauricio spent four and a half months there before his father began to realize something was wrong and brought him back to the United States. Once home, Mauricio entered an IOP through an LGBTQ center, beginning the process of rebuilding his life. But even then, he admits his mindset hadn’t fully shifted — telling himself that once he got back on his feet, he would eventually drink again.

And he did.

After reaching a little over a year sober, Mauricio relapsed and quickly found himself back in the depths of addiction. This time, it led him to a spiritual bottom — a moment where he finally surrendered and asked God for help.

What happened next felt nothing short of divine. Someone from AA, who had seen him on Grindr, reached out unexpectedly just to check if he was okay. For the first time, Mauricio told the truth. Within minutes, that person showed up at his door and took him to a meeting — a moment Mauricio describes as the beginning of everything changing.

Unable to return to residential treatment, he went back to the LGBTQ center and committed to IOP once again — this time with a different willingness. Since then, he has remained sober.

Today, Mauricio has found purpose in giving back. He started his own Spanish-speaking meeting in Los Angeles, creating a space for others who, like him, may have struggled to find where they belong. He credits this community and service as one of the most meaningful parts of his recovery.

Mauricio’s story is one of survival, identity, and the power of being seen. It’s about what happens when you finally stop running, tell the truth, and allow yourself to be found — proving that even in the darkest places, connection and recovery are possible.

This week, we sit down with Cody, who has six and a half years sober and is navigating one of the most challenging seasons of his recovery — going through a divorce from his husband.

Cody’s story begins long before sobriety stuck. He knew he had a problem as early as high school, and at 19, he attended his first AA meeting after a friend invited him. It was in a garage, filled with smoke, and when newcomers were asked to share, Cody felt overwhelmed. He broke down crying, admitting he was terrified of ruining his life. But despite that moment of honesty, he wasn’t ready. Soon after, he moved to San Francisco, where his addiction escalated and he spent years avoiding recovery altogether.

It wasn’t until six years later that Cody returned to a meeting — this time meeting Jimmy, and for the first time, showing up for himself. Even then, the shift didn’t come easily. Watching people laugh in the rooms, he assumed they must be high, while he himself was still using edibles. When his sponsor encouraged him to take a newcomer chip, it triggered something in him, and he walked away from sobriety again — leading to another year of using.

That year became one of the darkest periods of his life. Cody describes feeling completely alone, confronting what his future could look like if nothing changed. In a moment of surrender, he stopped fighting it — fully leaning into his addiction before finally reaching a breaking point. He called his parents and admitted the truth: he was a full-blown alcoholic.

From there, Cody entered treatment, beginning a new chapter that would ultimately reshape his life. He shares vivid memories from that time, including creating an alter ego — complete with a wig — out of fear of being recognized by people in AA while he was still going out to clubs. Beneath the humor of those moments was a deep fear of being seen.

While in treatment, a therapist recognized something in Cody that he hadn’t fully seen in himself — suggesting he consider becoming a therapist. That moment planted a seed, ultimately guiding him toward the work he does today and offering a powerful lens through which he understands both himself and others.

In this episode, Cody opens up about his patterns in relationships — especially his tendency to rely on others for stability and his desire to control and shape his partners. Through therapy and Al-Anon, he’s begun to unpack those patterns, learning to shift the focus inward and take responsibility for his own growth.

He also shares about recently getting an Al-Anon sponsor and the profound connection he feels with them — recognizing a sense of peace and relief that he deeply wants for himself. Through his grand-sponsor, he’s learning an important distinction: while AA is a program of giving back, Al-Anon asks something different — to turn inward, to focus on self-care, boundaries, and rediscovering personal interests and identity.

This conversation dives deep into the principles of Al-Anon and the often-overlooked work of learning to sit with yourself. Cody’s story is one of honesty, self-awareness, and transformation — showing that sobriety isn’t just about stopping substances, but about unlearning patterns, facing yourself, and continuing to grow through life’s hardest moments.

This week, we sit down with Courtney, who has two and a half years sober and a story that speaks to the exhausting cycle of trying, relapsing, and believing you might never actually make it out. Originally from Texas, Courtney moved to California 13 years ago in search of sobriety — a journey that took her through treatment an estimated 26 times.

Courtney had managed to reach one year sober twice before, only to relapse shortly after each milestone. Looking back, she realizes much of her sobriety felt performative — something she was doing for everyone else rather than something she truly wanted for herself. Her goals were always short-term: just make it to the next milestone. But once she hit a year, she didn’t know what to do with her life beyond that point. With no vision for the future, she’d convince herself she could just go out for one day — and the cycle would begin again. As she puts it, getting high never stopped “working” for her, even though the consequences kept getting worse.

Courtney also opens up about the complicated relationship with her biological father and the deep work she’s had to do in therapy to unpack how that relationship shaped her identity, her self-worth, and ultimately her addiction.

When she got sober this time, life didn’t suddenly become easier. At just two months sober, Courtney found out that her long-term ex-boyfriend, Connor, had died from an overdose. Grief hit hard, and she describes much of her first year sober as a blur — sleeping through the pain while still trying to show up for a brand new job and a new relationship.

Throughout her addiction, Courtney’s mom had helped her get into treatment again and again — but always with strong boundaries when Courtney was actively using. This time was different. When Courtney said she wanted to get sober again, her mom told her she would have to do it herself. Looking back, Courtney believes that shift may have been one of the reasons this sobriety stuck.

Today, she takes a different approach to recovery. Courtney hasn’t taken a single sobriety chip — not because she’s not proud, but because she doesn’t want to put pressure on herself or create another milestone she feels she has to perform for. For someone who once believed she would never stay sober, simply being here today feels like a miracle.

She also shares how becoming a house manager at just two months sober gave her purpose and structure during the most fragile time of her recovery. Looking back, she believes God was orchestrating things in ways she couldn’t understand at the time — placing people and opportunities in her life exactly when she needed them most to carry her through Connor’s death and into a deeper level of sobriety.

One moment that changed her perspective came while sitting in detox for what she believes was the 27th time. She was reading a book when a thought unlocked in her mind:
“Yes, you’ve been here before… but you’ve never been beyond.”

For the first time, Courtney realized that while she had repeated the same cycle for years, she had never actually seen what life looked like past that one-year mark. And maybe — just maybe — there was a bigger life waiting for her if she stayed.

Courtney’s story is about persistence, humility, and the quiet courage it takes to try again — even when you’re convinced you’ll fail. Because sometimes recovery doesn’t start with confidence… it starts with the simple willingness to go farther than you ever have before.

This week, we sit down with Maggy, who celebrated 12 years sober on November 9th. Originally from Illinois and now rooted in recovery after getting sober in New York City, Maggy’s story is one of radical honesty, humility, and learning how to rebuild herself again and again — even with years of sobriety behind her.

Maggy shares about her early attempts at sobriety, including a period where she believed she was sober — while still snorting Adderall. It wasn’t until she heard someone share about a similar experience in a meeting that the truth landed. She realized sobriety wasn’t about technicalities or loopholes — it was about honesty. That moment became a turning point.

Before getting sober, her drinking was filled with shame, isolation, and quiet desperation. She remembers sitting alone in her room, thinking, “I can drink better if I learn how to drink better.” That thought led her to open her computer and type “Alcoholics Anonymous.” Even then, denial still lingered. Her last drink was at a free concert where she told herself she wouldn’t drink — it was too expensive and wouldn’t do anything anyway. But she drank. Because she couldn’t not drink. And even though she constantly told herself she wasn’t “that bad,” she was living with daily thoughts of wanting to die.

Maggy got sober at just 22 years old and walked into her first meeting at the Atlantic Group in New York City — an experience she describes as intense, structured, and exactly what she needed. She jumped in headfirst, took direction, and grew up in the program. But like many, her journey wasn’t linear. Early in sobriety, she entered a relationship and unknowingly made that person her Higher Power. When the relationship eventually ended, she found herself spiritually disconnected and had to return to the rooms with the humility of a newcomer all over again at two years sober.

She shares openly about what it means to rebuild — not just once, but multiple times. At ten years sober, Maggy moved back to Illinois and once again faced the loneliness and discomfort of starting over. For a moment, she questioned whether she would ever find her people again. But through willingness and persistence, she did.

Maggy also speaks powerfully about mental health in recovery and the importance of outside help. She emphasizes that sponsors are there to guide someone through the steps — not to replace medical professionals or dictate mental health treatment. Her sponsor told her, “I’ll put your hand in God’s hand and take you through the steps,” giving her both spiritual guidance and the freedom to seek the professional help she needed.

Today, Maggy uses her experiences — including her mental health struggles — to help others find the right support and resources. She believes those challenges have given her purpose and compassion for others walking similar paths.

Maggy’s story is a reminder that recovery isn’t about perfection — it’s about self-honesty. It’s about telling the truth, asking for help, and being willing to start over as many times as it takes. Because sometimes the greatest freedom comes not from fixing yourself — but from finally being honest about who you are.

This week, we sit down with Vinny — a man coming up on three years sober whose story cuts straight to the core of what addiction really is: self-centered fear, emotional avoidance, and the slow erosion of everything that matters.

Vinny is brutally honest about the fact that he didn’t become selfish after he started using — he was already that way. Long before meth entered the picture, he was chasing what he wanted, when he wanted it. He married and had children not out of love, but out of desire to possess something. When the woman he was with realized she wasn’t loved and left, Vinny didn’t fight for the relationship — he fought to keep the kids for himself.

Years later, life took an unexpected and painful turn when his ex-partner was diagnosed with a rare cancer and had to move back in with him. By then, Vinny was already deep in addiction, revolving his entire life around meth. He cycled through short bursts of sobriety — 30 days, 45 days — but whenever meth called, he answered. Every time.

The turning point didn’t come from a court case, a hospital bed, or even the cancer in his home — it came from a vision. Vinny describes seeing his grown children looking at him with disappointment and heartbreak. That moment became his spiritual bottom. He walked into the Fountain Valley Alano Club and said the words that changed everything:
“I’m an addict and I can’t stop.”

This time, he did it differently. He got a sponsor. He worked the steps. He took commitments. He showed up. And when something wasn’t working, he didn’t quit — he adjusted. He went through multiple sponsors until he found someone who truly understood both him and his drug of choice. For the first time, Vinny didn’t just get sober — he started to recover.

Vinny also opens up about the generational trauma that shaped him. His father lived multiple secret lives with three hidden families — and in sobriety, Vinny realized he was becoming the very man he resented most. That awareness, painful as it was, became part of his healing.

One of the hardest — and most meaningful — parts of Vinny’s journey has been making amends to his three children. He talks honestly about the fear, the humility, and the slow rebuilding of trust after years of absence and broken promises.

He also shares about his first serious relationship in sobriety — one that recently ended — and why, for the first time in his life, he’s choosing not to rush into something new. Instead, he’s learning how to date himself, sit with himself, and actually know who he is without drugs, chaos, or another person to hide behind.

Vinny’s story is a powerful reminder that addiction doesn’t just destroy substances — it destroys relationships, identity, and self-respect. And recovery isn’t just about not using — it’s about becoming someone your kids, your past, and your future can finally believe in.

This week, we sit down with Charlene — a woman whose story proves that staying sober isn’t the same as living sober. With over 7½ years of recovery today, Charlene opens up about the two very different versions of sobriety she’s experienced — one driven by fear, and the other rooted in freedom, connection, and purpose.

Before this chapter of her life, Charlene had 22 months sober — and it was nothing short of a miracle she made it that far. She originally entered treatment for just 30 days, but on her 29th day, she asked her counselor what her chances of relapsing were. When he said 50/50, fear kicked in — and she stayed for another 30. She did the steps, went to meetings daily while in treatment, and followed the rules. But once she left, she stopped everything. No sponsor. No sober friends. No meetings. She even kept going to happy hour, sitting at the bar drinking water. It was abstinence without connection — and it was never going to last.

Her relapse was slow and calculated. One day at happy hour, telling a friend how good her life had become, she was told, “You should have a drink.” And that was all it took. For eight months, she tried to control it — until she was right back where she started: two bottles of vodka a day and burning every relationship to the ground.

Charlene is one of seven siblings — five sisters and two brothers — and addiction has touched every corner of her family. She lost a brother to the disease, and she was the first sibling to get sober. Today, two of the sisters she’s closest to are sober too — a legacy of healing that started with her.

This time, Charlene did recovery differently. She found Celebrate Recovery and committed to a nine-month, all-women program where missing more than two meetings wasn’t allowed. Twenty-five women, all on the same step, moving through the work together — and for the first time, she didn’t do it alone. When she graduated, she was asked to lead the next group, spending another nine months walking women through the same process that had changed her life.

Charlene opens up about what it’s really like to build a life in sobriety — sober sex, dating, and even going through a divorce clean. She also shares how fitness became a powerful anchor in her recovery, and how learning to stop caring what people think of her set her free.

Today, Charlene works for The Phoenix, a sober active community that offers free fitness and social events to anyone with 48 hours of sobriety — creating connection, purpose, and belonging where isolation once lived.

Charlene’s story is a reminder that fear can keep you dry… but only connection, honesty, and community can help you build a life worth staying sober for.