“I’m fucked,” I thought, as red and blue lights flashed behind me.

I managed to pull into a Chevron parking lot, failed a sobriety test, got arrested for a DUI, and spent my first night in jail.

Until my dad bailed me out the next morning.

On Thanksgiving.

Welcome to my wake-up call.

I never viewed myself as a bad person.

Have I made mistakes and done things I’m not proud of?

Of course.
I imagine most of us can relate to that.

But this - pulled over, resisting arrest, tackled and batoned by a police officer, thrown in jail… this was my rock bottom.

I entered my cell and sat on a steel bench.
The room smelled like bleach and blood.

I can’t believe I’m here.

A loud buzzer sounded as twenty inmates flooded the room, sprinting for rolls of toilet paper to use as pillows.

This was the first time I really prayed.

“If you’re real God, I pray for your help. I’ll do anything.”

My prayer was interrupted by a security guard bringing me a tin tray with what appeared to be a Thanksgiving meal.

No thank you.

And I got back to praying (and push-ups - doesn’t everyone in jail do push-ups?)

Morning came and I hadn’t slept a wink.

I stared at the wall.
Cussed myself out.
Prayed.
And had some serious talks with myself about growing up.

Given the circumstances, this was the best possible scenario I could have imagined:

Sounds like I won the lottery.

I called two of my best friends to bail me out, doing everything in my power to avoid calling my parents.

No luck.

So, reluctantly, I called my dad, and a couple of hours later I was picked up from the county jail and brought home.

On Thanksgiving.

With the entire trajectory of my life changed forever.

At the time, my life was slowly starting to come together.

I’d moved to Seattle, started my first real job, and was building a new life.

Just two months after moving to Seattle, however, my time had come to an end.

Due to financial constraints and the realization that my environment needed to change, I moved back into my parent’s house - borrowing money from them and going into debt in order to pay my attorney and court fees.

Talk about a humbling experience - back in my old room at age 24.

I thought this was enough to quit drinking.
But it wasn’t.

Seven months later, after staying sober and getting my life back on track, I decided to drink again and blew a violation in my ignition interlock just a couple of weeks later.

I was locked out of my car, couldn’t drive to work, and had to call my new boss to tell her I couldn’t come to work.

Now this. This was unacceptable.

It was the first time drinking had ever affected my professional life, and now it was time for things to change.

I was livid and sick with myself and didn’t know what to do.

So I did what I knew best: I went for a run.

Some runs change your mood.
Some runs change your life.

This run changed my life.

I felt heavy from drinking and eating the night before.
I felt sick from the choices I’d made.
I felt angry for not living up to my own standards.

And I needed a release.

A couple of miles in, I broke down.

I cried.
I yelled.
I screamed.

And once again, I found myself praying for help, while at the same time taking accountability for myself.

These were my choices, and I took full responsibility for my actions.

No excuses.
No blaming anyone else.
Just a commitment to become the best version of myself.

One day at a time.

I don’t remember exactly where I was.
I don’t remember exactly what I said.

But I do remember finishing that run with two words on my mind:

“I’m done.”

This time, it was for real. And I knew it.

Because from that run forward, I made one life-altering decision:

This DUI was going to be the best thing that ever happened for me, not to me.

While things would slowly begin to progress once again, I was unknowingly in for a bumpy ride ahead.

It started with a phone call to my therapist who, after telling her about the breathalyzer violation, told me:

“Colin - you were supposed to have been going to outpatient treatment and Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) for the last seven months. You need to figure this out now.”

And that very week, I began outpatient treatment and attended my first ever meeting at Alcoholics Anonymous (more on this to come).

“And Colin, if you get in trouble again, you go back to jail,” my attorney reminded me.

That statement, combined with a stern “pull your head out of your ass” from a family friend I highly respected, helped set me on a path I didn’t even know I was seeking.

Fast forward to today: this past week marked eight years without alcohol.

I’m super proud of this milestone and use it as a natural reflection point to see how far I’ve come.

But if you ask me what truly changed my life, it wasn’t stopping my consumption of alcohol.

That simply allowed me to take control of my life once again and reset my priorities.

It was the work that was done within this eight-year span.

The 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous.
Learning how to be brutally honest with myself.
Learning to face my fears no matter how painful or scary it was.
The shadow work that I always said I would take to the grave.

And next week, I’m going to share this part of my journey with you in hopes of helping you work through your own struggles, fears, and insecurities.

To find the light you might have been seeking all along.

PHEW - what up y’all. I’m trying something new here and freehanding some personal thoughts after writing everything above.

That was a lot - and I feel super vulnerable sharing all that. But if I’ve learned anything throughout the years, it’s this:

Vulnerability creates vulnerability.

By one person opening up, it can create a safe space for others to feel seen, heard, and understood - while also potentially being willing to be more vulnerable themselves.

It also feels good to let some of this out - to share it in hopes that maybe it helps at least one person.

And if you ever need someone to talk to about this, please reach out. My door is always open.

Thanks for reading this newsletter. It means a lot.

The road hasn’t been easy, but it’s been worth it.

I’ve learned that the more fear I embrace, the more liberation I experience.

This could be true for you as well.

Tip: Be vulnerable.

Action: This week, share something vulnerable with someone you trust. Something that makes you feel uncomfortable or fearful.

Value: Vulnerability creates connection. Not only will you lessen the fear around this thing you’re thinking about, but you will probably connect on a deeper level with the individual you shared with.

Who knows, you might even open them up enough to share something vulnerable back with you.

💻 Recent Newsletter Posts

🎙️Seeds of Success Podcast (Spotify)

🎙️Seeds of Success Podcast (Apple Podcasts)

🎬 YouTube | 📸 Instagram | 📱TikTok | ✍️ LinkedIn | 📈 Substack

✍️ Goal 1: Write 49 Newsletters
Realized: 26/49

🌎 Goal 2: Travel to 34 countries by age 34
Realized: 25/34

💰Goal 3: Earn $50k in self-generated revenue
Realized: $9,877

Got this far? Hit reply and let me know something that stood out to you.

I love hearing from you and always respond.

Lastly, can you please send this to one person you think might enjoy it?

Sharing the newsletter is the #1 way that will help it grow.

Sigue la aventura 🚀

See you next week 😎

P.S. - reminder that if you’re in the Seattle area on August 8, we’re hosting our first ever Yoga + Smoothie event with Asha Yoga + Emerald City Smoothie in Gig Harbor!

Come flow, sweat, and refuel with your favorite Emerald City Smoothie after the 8am Hot Vinyasa class (smoothie included with registration).

Spots are limited, so click here to reserve your spot.

Let’s gooo! 🚀

P.P.S - A couple years ago I was interviewed by my good friend, Mario, where I publicly shared some pieces about my story for the first time.

You can watch / listen to it on YouTube by clicking below ⬇️