Welcome to LaLa Bright.
Welcome to LaLa Bright, a space for real stories, honest reflections, and the little sparks of light that remind us life can be brighter than we imagined.
Here you’ll find essays and moments pulled from my own journey - the messy, the meaningful, and everything in between. You can also follow along on Brighter Without for daily doses of inspiration and sober joy.
Once Upon a Wine Glass
Once upon a time, I thought I’d found my happily ever after in a wine glass. Every pour promised calm, escape, and a little shimmer of magic I couldn’t quite find on my own. But fairytales built on glass are fragile, they shatter before the last sip.
What I didn’t know then was that the ending I was chasing wasn’t at the bottom of the glass at all. It was waiting in the quiet morning light, in clear-eyed laughter, in a life I didn’t have to numb. Sobriety didn’t steal the magic. It handed me back the pen and let me rewrite the ending.
Our Brighter Without
Recovery isn’t a solo act. I had to do the hard, messy work but Gary made the path gentler. From pouring out every drop of alcohol in our house to cooking salt-free meals, his love turned something impossible into something brighter.
How Alcohol Stole My Time
For years, I blamed Instagram scrolls and my undying loyalty to bad reality TV for stealing my hours. But the real time thief wasn’t my phone or my remote - it was the wine glass in my hand. Turns out, nothing wastes a Tuesday night (and Wednesday morning) faster than “just one more.”
Almost a Love Letter
I wrote this in early sobriety. It’s not a love letter, it’s a goodbye.
The year I quit shame
For nearly two decades, my New Year’s resolution was always the same: drink less. But this past New Year’s Eve, 290 days into sobriety, I had nothing to resolve. No desperate vow, no damage to undo — just space wide enough to dream in.
That night, a quiet voice inside me whispered the boldest wish I’d ever made: I don’t want to be ashamed of myself anymore.
Shame had been my constant companion, even after alcohol was gone — tugging at my ankle, telling me I hadn’t done sobriety the “right” way.
I thought I was the exception. I wasn’t.
I thought I could sip without sinking, just a trickle, just socially. I was too smart, too self-aware to get pulled under. But in the cruelest plot twist, I became the sequel… and this time, I already knew how the story would end.