How to Work the Steps Without Ever Setting Foot in a Meeting
(Occasionally I release a free essay for everyone on my subscriber list. If you've been here for a while outside the paywall, this one is for you. Welcome to The Magic Is in the Middle!)
I recently wrote about getting sober without AA. And if the response was anything to go by, a lot of you needed to hear that it’s possible. There’s no mandatory program, no single path, and no label you have to give yourself before your sobriety counts as real.
But here’s something about AA that I think gets lost in that conversation: the steps themselves contain genuine wisdom. Not all of them, not in their original form, not with outdated theology baked in… but underneath the 1930s language, the “higher power” framework and the moral inventory confessional there are some useful ideas about what it actually takes to change.
But.. you don’t have to be in AA to access them. You don’t need a sponsor or a chip. No circle of folding chairs required. You just need to be willing to look at yourself honestly and do something with what you find.
Here’s how I work the steps without working the steps.
Step 1: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol — that our lives had become unmanageable.
This one I split in two because I think it contains two very different ideas.
The unmanageable part? Yes. Completely agree. Honestly acknowledging that alcohol had made my life chaotic and not quite my own —that was necessary. The saying is true, that admitting is the first step. It’s the beginning of everything.
However, the powerless part? I respectfully disagree.
I don’t find that empowering and I don’t think it’s accurate. I believe is that alcohol is a highly addictive substance that my brain developed a very specific and dysfunctional relationship with. Continuing to use it was a choice that was costing me more than I was willing to pay. That’s not powerlessness. That’s acting on self-aware information.
I also don’t carry the label of alcoholic as a lifelong identity. I think of that as a medical condition which is true situationally, but doesn’t have to define a person forever. That label can be empowering for some people and I genuinely support that. It just wasn’t the right framework for me.
What I took from step one: my honest acknowledgment that drinking had become unmanageable. Full stop.
Steps 2 and 3: A higher power, God, turning your will over.
I already had a sense of spirituality before I got sober; something I’d built over years that had nothing to do with AA and everything to do with my own relationship with the universe, with energy, and the idea that there’s something bigger than just us at play. I call myself scientifically spiritual. I find meaning in nature, connection, and the vastness of existence. So the concept of something greater than myself wasn’t foreign to me. I didn’t need AA to introduce it.
What I didn’t do (and will never do) is turn my will over to anything outside myself. Not to a theology, not to a program, not to a sponsor. The decisions about my life are mine. The accountability for my choices is mine. The credit for my recovery is mine.
What I took from steps 2 and 3: stay connected to something bigger than your own ego. Whether that’s spirituality, nature, community, or just the humbling awareness that you are one small person on a big rock floating through space… that perspective helps. The theology is optional.
Step 4: A searching and fearless moral inventory.
This one I actually do. Regularly. Not as a formal exercise, but as an ongoing practice of asking myself whether my actions align with my values and whether who I’m being matches who I want to be.
Sobriety made this possible in a way that drinking never did. When you’re numbing yourself you can’t see yourself clearly. The alcohol creates a buffer between you and your own conscience that makes it very easy to avoid looking at things you’d rather not see. Getting sober removed the buffer and I was left with a brutally unobstructed view of myself. It was uncomfortable and also one of the most valuable things that ever happened to me. I didn’t need AA to take inventory. I needed the willingness to actually look. Those things are available to everyone, with or without a program.
What I took from step 4: regularly look at yourself honestly. Not to punish yourself but to understand yourself. There’s a difference.
Steps 5, 8 and 9: Admitting wrongs, making amends.
I grew up Catholic. I spent years in confession booths admitting my wrongs out loud to someone whose job it was to assign me penance and grant me absolution. I’m done with that practice. Permission to move forward from my mistakes comes from myself, not from saying them out loud to another person.
That said, I do make amends. Genuinely, when I mean them, to people I actually want to repair something with. Not as a checklist item. Not to everyone I’ve ever wronged because sometimes the most honest thing I can say is that certain people only ever got the worst version of me because they brought out the worst version of me. Reopening that wound helps neither of us.
Amends, to me, is less about confession and more about integrity. Am I repairing what actually needs repairing? Am I moving through the world with genuine care for the people in it? If yes, that’s the amends. It doesn’t have to always be a conversation.
What I took from steps 5, 8 and 9: take responsibility for your impact on others. Repair what genuinely needs repairing. The format is yours to decide.
Steps 6 and 7: Character defects, shortcomings, asking God to remove them.
I’ll be direct: addiction is not a moral failure or evidence that you are fundamentally broken as a person. It’s a neurological condition shaped by genetics, environment, brain chemistry, trauma, and the substance itself. Framing it as a defect of character, a thing God needs to remove because you are flawed at your core, isn’t helpful to me because I don’t think it’s true.
What I believe instead: we all have patterns that don’t serve us. Ways of coping that made sense at some point (most likely, were coping mechanisms to avoid suffering and even keep us alive) and stopped serving us. Addiction doesn’t require divine intervention to be examined, understood and changed. It takes awareness, therapy, community, and the slow unglamorous work of deciding to do things differently.
What I took from steps 6 and 7: you don’t need to frame your patterns as defects. You just need to be willing to do something different.
Steps 10 and 11: Ongoing inventory, prayer and meditation.
These two I do in my own way. Personal development, self-reflection, the continuous practice of moral self-inventory… This is doing the work and I actually find it endlessly interesting. Not as punishment but as curiosity and the practice of knowing yourself.
And the meditation and conscious contact piece… yes, absolutely. I have a collection of coping strategies I’ve built over time. Breathwork, movement, creativity, moments of stillness that allow me to check in with myself rather than run from what I’m feeling. That’s my version of prayer. It doesn’t need to be a certain format. It just needs to be done with intention.
What I took from steps 10 and 11: keep looking inward. Keep building practices that connect you to yourself. Never stop doing the work.
Step 12: Having had a spiritual awakening, carry the message to others.
This one I saved for last because honestly? It’s my favorite.
I write this newsletter every Sunday. I post every day on Instagram. I show up in the comments and the DMs and the replies because I remember exactly what it felt like to be looking for someone who understood. Someone who had been where I was and found a way through that didn’t require me to fit into a box that wasn’t built for me.
That said, I also believe your experiences and story is to do what you want with it. An obligation to expose yourself raw can be a weight some people aren’t willing to carry.
What I took from step 12: carrying the message doesn’t require a program. It just requires turning around and reaching back for whoever is a few steps behind you.
You don’t have to do all twelve steps or even agree with them in their original form. But somewhere inside that framework, underneath the theology and the cultural moment it was written in, there are some real ideas about honesty, accountability, connection and growth that belong to everyone.
Take what works. Leave the rest. That’s always been the only rule that matters.
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I love this article, such great perspective. I go to a lot of AA meetings, mainly because it's the best way for me to see sobriety in action. The fellowship and positivity in the rooms (if you find the right meetings) shows me that this is worth it. Society is so quick to persuade you to think that you need alcohol.
I also believe that there's not one perfect program. The perfect program is whatever someone does that is successful in keeping them sober. It's okay to pick and choose what is working for you...
I really liked your point about powerlessness, that's a tough one. If I am honest with myself, there were times that I was powerless, it's tough to admit, I always want to think that I am in control, but I was not. If I had the power to quit, I would have, alcohol had taken over. How many times has someone said 'I'll quit tomorrow' and then didn't, that's powerlessness.
But through detox, AA, building a community of sober minded people, meditating and hard work, I am able to take that power back, little by little. I to me, I AM not powerless, but I WAS powerless. And my plan is to never give that power back to alcohol.
Thank you for sharing this, keep it up!
This is amazing. Thank you!
Love the Scientifically Spiritual. That’s a good way to explain how I feel too!
900 days for me today ✨