When the old life stops working, recovery can begin with one honest moment and one person willing to answer the phone.

There's a moment in this conversation where Anthony Good talks about getting his job, his car, and college back, then losing all three within two weeks. He'd found a way to look like he was doing well. He hadn't learned how to live there yet.

Anthony has four and a half years clean. He's spent years in prison, lived through relapse, and carried the kind of guilt that turns into another excuse to use. He told us he used to beat himself up over the father he'd been, then use that pain as a reason to pick up again. Recovery meant something different had to happen. He had to stop making his past a reason to give up on his future.

His kids became that future. Anthony talked about being present, caring, and loving in ways that still catch him off guard. He grew up around violence, trauma, and loss, and he's made sure his own children get something else. They don't know the anger and abuse he knew. They get a dad who shows up.

"If I Can Stay Sober, Anybody Can." And He Means It.

"I'm seeing the world with new eyes. I'm thinking with a new brain."

That's Ben M. now. We first met him in 2024, three and a half years sober, and his story stopped us cold. The only boy in a big Hispanic family in El Paso. The fox on the way to school. The law license he lost. The psych ward he woke up in twice in one week. The single glass of wine on a flight to San Francisco that undid everything. We called that episode Triumph Over Trials. It became one of the most popular episodes we've ever done.

Now Ben's back. Over six years sober. And the difference between then and now is something we think you need to hear.

One Boy, One Fox, One Glass of Wine. And a Comeback He Never Saw Coming.

"I met a fox on the way to school. He got me curious about taking a detour. And before I knew it, I had a donkey tail."

That's how Ben M. describes what happened when he was 13. He grew up the only boy in a big Hispanic family in El Paso, Texas, spoiled and loved, surrounded by three older sisters who treated him like their favorite toy. He got anything he wanted. Then, in a single year, everything shifted. First pot. First blackout, gin and orange juice, 13 hours gone, waking up having wet himself. First time meeting men off the internet, right after his family got AOL. He came out at 14. Skipped school. Found adult bookstores. The fox had shown up, and Ben followed.

What we love about Ben's story is how honestly he tells it. He doesn't dress up the chaos. At 18 he moved to New York City. September 11th happened weeks after he arrived, and the terror of it actually scared him sober for a while. He went to community college, did well, transferred to the University of Texas at Austin. But by the time he got to law school he was a daily drinker, Franzia wine and Golden Girls, suicidal in blackouts. His family had an intervention. He went to his first AA meeting and bought a bottle of wine on the way home. He wasn't done yet.

A Clean Scan, a Parade, and Learning to Stay Grounded

"I was just lost before I really started this journey."

That's Peter, talking about who he was before recovery. We recorded this one in his home studio, the one with the hummingbird at the window and the plants Julie swears make it look like Snow White's cottage. He was tired that morning. The TMS study he's working on at Another Chance has him up at 7 a.m., and he is not a morning person. But he's nine years sober this Sunday, and his one-year cancer scan just came back clean.

"Over these past nine years, I've become found. I'm no longer lost."

We celebrated three promotions and three birthdays at one dinner the night before we recorded. Julie's sending in her expungement paperwork after 32 years, eight charges coming off her record. She found the documents while digging through a file cabinet looking for tax forms.

A Houseplant, a Forgotten Reveal, and a Room Full of People Who Refuse to Be a Glum Lot

The Glam Lot PDX puts on drag shows to raise money for charity — organizations like the Trevor Project. No bar, no drinks. Just a room full of people in recovery and a lot of wigs. Becca, Bex, and Carrington joined us at True Colors on a Saturday to talk about why fun isn't optional in sobriety. It's the whole point.

Becca co-founded the Glam Lot with Carrington. If you've been listening a while, you might remember her from Episode 18 — a lot's changed since then. She got into drag during the pandemic, watching YouTube tutorials and falling down a rabbit hole of makeup artists and performers. She did her first Glam Lot show recently and, in her own words, forgot she had a reveal. The audience didn't care. They were too busy cheering.

Nothing's wasted. Not even the hard parts.

What do you do with the grief when your sponsor of 26 years is gone, and you still have to show up tomorrow?

Jen L. is back. Part 2 picks up where Part 1 left off. Tammy died two years ago on a Wednesday, and Jen is only now beginning to put words to what that means. She had 26 years of a sponsor who walked beside her and knew everything. And then Tammy was gone.

This isn't about loss as an ending. It's about what a sponsor plants in you. What she left behind.