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The Sober Sessions - Joel Anthony, Boston, MA (2025)

09/28/2025

Sober feels like waking up from a nightmare that you didn’t even realize was happening every single day. It’s like peeling back layer after layer of pain, shame, and regret until you finally remember who you were before the chaos. Before the lies, the blackout nights, the shaking hands, the empty bottles, the numbness that became normal.

It’s not just about stopping. It’s about remembering. Remembering the person you were when your heart still beat with hope. When your mind could dream without fear. When your soul still whispered, “You’re meant for more than this.”

Sober is a mirror. It shows you the scars, sure—but it also shows you the strength you forgot you had. The clarity you didn’t know you were missing. The moments you almost lost forever, now in full color instead of a haze.

It’s raw. It’s painful. It’s beautiful. You start to see the world, the people, and yourself with new eyes. You remember laughter that isn’t forced. You feel joy that isn’t borrowed. You discover who you were all along—the real you, not the version lost in the storm of addiction.

And that? That’s freedom. That’s life. That’s what makes every hard day of recovery worth it.

—j. anthony |

09/28/2025

The bitter truth:
Not every elder is wise. Don’t fall for the trap of thinking age automatically equals wisdom. Time alone doesn’t make someone sharp—it just makes them older. Even fools grow old.

Growing old? That’s just biology. Your hair grays, your skin wrinkles, your body slows down. That’s the natural process, and nobody escapes it. But growing wise? That’s a choice. That’s earned. That’s the blood, sweat, and scars you collect from actually paying attention to life instead of just surviving it on autopilot.

Some people live eighty years and repeat the same mistakes seventy-nine times. They never learn, they never evolve, they never self-reflect. They confuse longevity with insight. But years don’t teach wisdom—awareness does. Humility does. The willingness to admit you’ve been wrong, to listen, to adapt, to let go of ego and open yourself up to growth—that’s wisdom.

So don’t blindly swallow every piece of advice that comes from someone who’s been on the planet longer than you. Respect their experience, sure. But test it against truth, against reality, against your own gut. Because sometimes what’s passed down is poison, not medicine.

Wisdom isn’t about how long you’ve lived—it’s about what you’ve done with the time you had. Old age can either make you a sage or just an older fool. The choice is yours.

—j. anthony |

09/28/2025

We are living in a time where the lines are completely blurred. Where some people are proud of the things they should be ashamed of, and ashamed of the things they should be proud of. It’s backwards. It’s toxic. It’s dangerous.

People flaunt their worst decisions like trophies, showing off their chaos, their addictions, their lies, their shortcuts to the world as if it’s something to celebrate. Meanwhile, the things that require real strength—the discipline, the integrity, the hard work, the late nights grinding when no one’s watching—they hide those like they’re guilty of something.

This isn’t just a social problem. It’s a spiritual problem. It’s a cultural problem. We’ve confused attention with accomplishment, noise with value, and clout with character. The truth? Real growth, real pride, real respect—that comes from the things most people refuse to do. The quiet, the hard, the disciplined, the lonely.

So don’t get caught in the backwards world. Don’t get distracted by the applause for mediocrity. Stand firm. Celebrate what builds you. Work on what strengthens you. Love what makes you better, not what makes you look better.

Because at the end of the day, the world doesn’t get to define what you’re proud of. You do. You decide the weight of your accomplishments. You decide the standards you live by. And if you play your life by the rules of the fake, backwards world? You’re setting yourself up for emptiness, regret, and a life full of the wrong kind of pride.

—j. anthony |

09/28/2025

One morning, we woke up different.

Not the kind of “different” that comes with a motivational meme or a fake smile. No—this was a shift in our spirit. We woke up with a fire. Done wasting energy trying to decode people’s intentions, done playing detective to figure out who’s truly with us, who’s against us, and who’s just sitting in the middle too spineless to pick a damn side. That game was over.

We stopped chasing the things that drained us. Stopped negotiating our peace for scraps of attention. We finally understood that opinions are cheap—they don’t pay the bills, they don’t build us up, and they sure as hell don’t define our worth. Validation? That’s for parking meters. And loyalty? That isn’t a buzzword you toss around when it’s convenient—it’s a lifestyle, and most people don’t even have the guts to live it.

That morning, everything shifted. Not because of another person, not because of a job, not because life suddenly decided to go easy on us. It shifted because we took our power back. We realized life’s too damn short to hand someone else the keys to our happiness. Too short to keep waiting for people to choose us, validate us, or stand beside us.

From that day on, we became untouchable—not because the punches stopped coming, but because we stopped asking for permission to fight back.

And that’s the day our life changed.

—j. anthony |

09/28/2025

Your competition isn’t the guy next to you grinding in the gym, or the person posting wins on social media, or the coworker climbing the ladder faster than you. Your real competition? It’s the voice inside your own head. That voice that whispers you’re not good enough, that you can’t do it, that you should quit. That’s the enemy. That’s the battlefield. That’s what’s really standing between you and everything you want.

Because here’s the truth: the second you let that narrative control you, the second you buy into your own doubts, fears, and excuses—you lose. Doesn’t matter how much talent you have, doesn’t matter how many opportunities show up. If you quit in your head first, the outside world doesn’t even get a chance to touch you.

Every day, the fight is the same. You have to battle the story you’re telling yourself. You have to stare it down, challenge it, and refuse to accept it. You have to say, “No. I’m not done. I’m not giving up. I’m going to see this through even when it hurts, even when it’s scary, even when I feel like collapsing.” That’s where growth happens. That’s where warriors are forged.

So stop worrying about what anyone else is doing. Stop comparing yourself. Stop letting the noise of the world distract you. The only fight that matters is the one inside you. Beat that, and everything else becomes easy.

Your competition isn’t out there. It’s in here. And if you master that, there’s nothing—no person, no circumstance, no setback—that can stand in your way.

—j. anthony |

09/28/2025

I will never fit in. And that’s not a flaw—that’s one of my greatest strengths.

Look around. Most people are stuck living on autopilot. They dress how they’re told, believe what they’re told, chase what everyone else is chasing. They trade authenticity for acceptance, individuality for approval. And then they wonder why they feel empty inside.

Me? I’d rather be hated for being real than loved for being fake. I’d rather walk alone with my integrity intact than sit at a crowded table built on lies. Not fitting in means I don’t have to compromise who I am to be accepted. It means I’m free.

Because the truth is—fitting in is just another word for playing small. And I wasn’t built for small. I wasn’t built to blend in with the crowd. I was built to stand out, to make noise, to rattle cages, to wake people up.

So yeah—I’ll never fit in. And that’s exactly what makes me dangerous in a world addicted to sameness.

—j. anthony |

09/28/2025

I told God I was overwhelmed. I told Him I couldn’t handle it anymore. I told Him I was tired, stressed, and drowning in responsibilities that felt bigger than me. I told Him I didn’t know how to keep going, how to stay strong, how to hold it all together.

And He said… “Then stop trying to do my job.”

Boom. Just like that. It hit me like a freight train. Everything I was carrying, all the pressure I put on myself, all the guilt and anxiety—it wasn’t mine to bear. I was trying to control the uncontrollable. I was trying to manage a plan that wasn’t mine to manage. I was trying to fight battles that God was already handling.

That’s the thing about life: we overload ourselves. We take on more than we were meant to carry. We stress, we obsess, we force outcomes—and it never works. But the second you surrender? The second you step back and let God run the show? Everything changes. The pressure eases. The chaos quiets. The weight lifts just enough for you to see the path you couldn’t see before.

Stop pretending you’re the architect of the universe. Stop thinking you have to fix everything. Your job isn’t to do His work—it’s to do yours, and trust that He’s got the rest.

So when you’re drowning, when life feels impossible, when your mind is screaming and your body is breaking—remember this: you don’t have to carry it all. Stop trying to do God’s job. Let Him handle it. And then watch how your life shifts.

—j. anthony |

09/28/2025

Never stop being a good person. Don’t ever let the world harden your heart or make you bitter. Keep showing up with love, keep showing up with kindness, keep showing up with integrity.

But here’s the catch most people miss: you don’t owe your kindness to everyone. Not the ones who take it for granted, not the ones who manipulate it, not the ones who drain it and leave you empty. Some people aren’t meant to receive your energy—they’re meant to teach you where to draw the line.

So keep being good. Keep being generous. Keep being real. Just be smart about where you pour it. Give it to the people who value it, who deserve it, who will use it to rise instead of weigh you down. That’s how you protect your soul without losing your heart.

Kindness isn’t weakness. It’s power—but real power knows who’s worthy of it.

—j. anthony |

09/28/2025

Nobody’s perfect. I get that. We all make mistakes. We all stumble. We all have moments where we screw up and fall short. That’s life. That’s human. I can roll with that. I understand that.

But here’s the hard truth: we’re grown. We’re adults. That means when you do something, you know exactly what you’re doing. No excuses. No blaming your past, your mood, your circumstances. You chose it. You made that move. You acted with intention, whether good or bad, and now you have to own it.

Stop hiding behind “I didn’t mean it” or “I didn’t know better.” You did. You knew. And that changes everything. Because growth isn’t just about realizing when you’re wrong—it’s about taking responsibility for the choices you make, every damn time.

So yeah, nobody’s perfect. But if you’re grown, you better start acting like it. Every word, every action, every decision matters. Stop lying to yourself. Stop playing games. Own your life. Own your mistakes. Own your victories. Because the world isn’t forgiving—it rewards the people who take full accountability for who they are and what they do.

—j. anthony |

09/28/2025

Real strength? It’s not in holding on, it’s in letting go.

It’s realizing that your value doesn’t depend on someone else’s choices. You don’t beg for attention. You don’t chase approval. You don’t crawl back to people who already decided you weren’t worth keeping. Because begging, pleading, chasing — that’s weakness disguised as love or loyalty.

Real strength is watching people walk out of your life and feeling the freedom instead of the fear. It’s letting them lose you and knowing your world won’t crumble because your peace, your worth, your purpose… that’s untouchable.

It’s hard. It hurts. Pride bruises, ego fights. But you survive it. You grow through it. You walk away stronger, cleaner, sharper — knowing that every door that closes is clearing space for the ones that actually belong to you.

Stop giving people the power to define you. Stop holding yourself hostage to their choices, their moods, their approval. Real strength is being untouchable, unbothered, and unchained from people who aren’t ready to value you.

Let them lose you. Your life doesn’t end when they leave. It begins.

—j. anthony |

09/28/2025

It’s damn hard sometimes to stay quiet. I get it. When people lie about you, twist your words, manipulate the truth, or put on a show to make themselves look better at your expense—it stings. It makes your blood boil. Your instinct screams, “Defend yourself! Fight back! Set the record straight!”

But here’s the brutal truth most people don’t get: when you jump into that fight, when you scramble to defend your name, when you try to control the narrative—you’re stepping into a battle that isn’t yours to win. You’re blocking God from moving. You’re trying to do what only He can.

Exodus 14:14 says it plainly: “The Lord will fight for you; you only need to be still.” That’s not just ancient words on a page—it’s strategy. It’s power. It’s wisdom. The higher you trust Him, the less you have to prove yourself to the world. Let them talk. Let them lie. Let them manipulate and try to control the story. You just be still.

Because when God is for you, who can stand against you? Let that sink in. Those petty rumors, those manipulations, those attempts to make you look small—they can’t touch you if you’re grounded in His truth. Psalms 56:4 says it straight: “I trust in Him; what can mere mortals do to me?”

So resist the urge to fight every battle yourself. Resist the urge to chase every lie. Sit back. Be still. Trust Him. Let Him handle what you cannot. The people trying to take you down? They’re playing in a league far below what God is doing on your behalf. Let them keep spinning their stories while you rise above, untouched, unshakable, unstoppable.

—j. anthony |

09/28/2025

Real growth? It doesn’t happen when you’re patting yourself on the back or collecting likes. It happens when you start checking yourself. When you look in the mirror and see the parts of you that suck — the anger, the laziness, the ego, the excuses — and you decide to face them instead of hiding.

It’s brutal. It’s uncomfortable. Growth doesn’t feel good at first. It feels like ripping off a scab you’ve been picking at for years. It’s seeing where you failed, where you hurt people, where you settled, and actually owning it instead of blaming circumstances or others.

Real growth is the willingness to correct your behavior, even when no one’s watching. To say, “Yeah, I was wrong,” and then actually do something about it. To rewrite your habits, your reactions, your mindset. It’s grinding when nobody believes in you. It’s showing up for yourself when the world tells you you’re weak.

The scary truth? Most people never grow. They float through life thinking self-awareness is optional, thinking reflection is for losers, thinking change is too hard. Real growth eats comfort for breakfast. It shatters illusions. And in the wreckage, you find a stronger version of yourself — the one who doesn’t complain, doesn’t quit, doesn’t settle.

You want growth? Start with yourself. Check. Correct. Repeat. No excuses. No shortcuts. Just results.

—j. anthony |

The Sober Sessions - Joel Anthony

09/28/2025

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