Five years ago, when our kids were teenagers and still mostly living at home, I had a quiet but powerful realization: I wanted to set a better example for them.

At first, I thought the “responsible” thing was allowing a few drinks at home — teaching moderation, safety, and trust. But over time, I noticed changes in myself. What I casually called my nightcap started to feel like a need. Sometimes the stash disappeared faster than expected… and I wasn’t the only one enjoying it.

Not long after, our two oldest boys began struggling with experimenting. At the time, I didn’t fully connect the dots between alcohol, substances, and some of the behaviors we were seeing. Looking back now, I understand how closely those dots were connected — how normalized drinking and medicating can quietly open doors we never intended to leave unlocked.

I give so much credit to the good Lord for the strength and willpower that followed. Because if I’m honest, alcohol didn’t make me more fun, more energetic, or more kind. Our culture often promotes alcohol as harmless fun, while rarely acknowledging how easily alcohol and drugs — even prescribed ones — can become coping tools rather than solutions.

I remember the “party days” ramping up again once our kids were old enough to take care of themselves… even acting as designated drivers at times. I remember being so sick the next day that I stayed in bed until 6 p.m., completely wiped out. Years later, I learned I’m pre-diabetic, and I now see how my body had been waving red flags long before I paid attention.

I want to live a long life — as healthy as I can — and I’m still human. Progress over perfection, always.

Addiction doesn’t always look like chaos. Sometimes it looks like functioning, prescriptions, routines, and justifications that sound responsible on the surface. I’ve struggled with my weight since I was young, and for nearly eight years I relied on prescribed weight-loss medication as a crutch. The moment it truly clicked was ten years ago, when our oldest was 16 and we were invited into a family therapy session.

That session was uncomfortable. I felt defensive. I felt exposed. Our kids shared that my high morning energy — which I truly believed was helpful — often felt like too much for them.
We were advised to get alarm clocks — and we did.
But the deeper truth was that I was still leaning on something outside of myself to function.

Today, I’m still high-energy — but now it comes from coffee, sunshine, clarity, and being fully present.

I began praying — asking God if a calmer, clearer version of me might actually be the best version for our family.

I can say this honestly: choosing sobriety and clarity — from alcohol and from substances I once justified — is the best thing we’ve ever done. We’ve always been driven and capable, but now our productivity is paired with clarity, peace, and presence. The Klassen Group-SalinaHomes exists because of these qualities!

We were able to help our oldest two boys get into treatment early, knowing how deeply addiction runs on both sides of our family. And if we’re being real… most lives are touched by addiction in some way.

We still have challenges within our family — because healing doesn’t erase life. But I am so grateful, and honestly humbled, to say that my three siblings, my mom, my husband and I, and our four kids are choosing a different path. I can’t explain that any other way than the good Lord’s work.

Our family was raised with a work hard, party harder mentality. And while I once believed celebration needed a substance to induce it, I now know joy can exist fully — and more authentically — without one.

I still love celebrating life. I’m a big-time foodie and an experience girl through and through. And let me be clear — I don’t judge those who choose to drink. Truly. I’ll happily be there with a beautiful little mocktail in hand (because yes… I’m a total glutton for a pretty mocktail 🍹). Connection, laughter, good food, and shared experiences fill my cup far more than alcohol ever did.

Therapy changed everything.

Recovery hasn’t been linear. It’s had its ups and downs. Five years of sobriety has taught me to listen closely — to my body and my spirit.

I’m more aware now than ever how even prescribed medications affect me. Taking a pain medication just once daily at bedtime was enough for me to notice emotional shifts that didn’t feel like me. That awareness mattered. Choosing clarity during recovery feels like another intentional step in staying aligned with the life I’m building.

The paragraph above was a reflection I shared as part of my normal daily gratitude post yesterday — not for attention, debate, or explanation — just an honest snapshot of where I’m at today. A life rooted in gratitude has a way of bringing clarity to even the hardest conversations.

It triggered a response from an aunt I haven’t been closely connected with over the years, questioning my use of the word sobriety. While that felt heavy, it also reminded me that growth is sometimes misunderstood — especially when it challenges traditional ideas of what recovery is “supposed” to look like.

For this season of life, caring for my health looks like vitamins, metformin, sertraline, and progesterone — tools that support my body rather than numb it. Other than that, I’m honestly just high on life.

At this point, I’ve learned that no response is sometimes the healthiest response. Not everyone needs to understand your healing — they just need to respect it.

Thank God for today. I’m feeling better, steadier, and more like myself again. Grateful for the lessons, the clarity, and the continued ability to choose what supports my peace.

Stay rosy,
Amber 🤍🤟