I have drinking dreams sometimes Drinking nightmares, I call them. They’re dreams in which I take a drink and all hell ensues. Actually,...

This past weekend would have been my grandmother’s 103rd birthday.

Can we all just agree that moving is the fucking worst? (Sorry for the adjective, Mom, but I feel it is warranted here.)

As I look ahead, my greatest priority is continuing the critical work I've been doing on myself.

On September 26th, by the grace of God, I celebrated one year of continuous sobriety from alcohol.

Yesterday marked 365 days of continuous sobriety for me. I am beyond grateful.

I want to write a book. Lots of books, actually. I want to be an author.

I am done giving up everything for you.

Looking back over the past few weeks, I can’t help but stand dumbfounded in awe of how lucky I am and how blessed I’ve been.

It has been a while. A long while filled with vacation, pneumonia, existential crises, soul-searching, self-discovery and a sh*t ton of ice

Having spent the last week surrounded by family, love and sunshine, I can’t help but be overwhelmed with gratitude.

I cannot tell you how many times I rewrote this piece prior to realizing that the shame gremlins had hijacked my brain.

Why are there so few Asians in recovery?

What is the truest most beautiful life you can imagine? It’s a question Glennon Doyle poses in her book “Untamed.” A book which I first...