Sponsorship: The Service That Changed My Sobriety the Most

Haler Smith

It was close to midnight when my phone buzzed. The name flashing on the screen was a newcomer I’d been working with for a few weeks. He sounded scattered and scared, the way I used to sound when I was trying to hold life together with my own strength. I sat on the edge of the bed, listening as he talked. Somewhere in the middle of his chaos, I realized something that still takes my breath away: I needed that call as much as he did.

I used to think sponsorship was about helping other people stay sober. Today, I understand it’s what helps me stay sober. That’s the miracle of this deal. Every time I reach out to another alcoholic, I’m reminded of where I came from and how much I still rely on the Power that got me here.

When I first stumbled into AA at 20 years old, I was broken and desperate. Alcohol had stopped working, and so had I. I was physically sick, mentally beaten, and spiritually empty. My whole life had narrowed down to a bottle and the next lie I could tell to keep drinking. I didn’t know how to live without alcohol, but I couldn’t keep living with it either.

I remember my first sponsor sitting across from me at a diner, explaining the Steps in plain language. He didn’t talk about theories or feelings—he showed me what the book said and what he had done. He didn’t give me advice; he gave me direction. He told me to read the Big Book, pray every morning, and call him every day. I didn’t believe it would work, but I did it anyway, mostly because I was out of options.

Looking back, that was my first experience with working with other alcoholics. The Big Book’s Chapter 7 says, “Nothing will so much ensure immunity from drinking as intensive work with other alcoholics.” My sponsor lived that. He carried the message to me, not because he was better or wiser, but because someone had carried it to him. I had no idea at the time that one day I’d be asked to do the same.

The first time someone asked me to be their sponsor, I froze. My first thought was, Who am I to guide anyone? I was still figuring out how to handle life myself. But I remembered what my sponsor had told me: “You don’t keep anyone sober. God does. You just share what’s been freely given.” So I said yes.

That first sponsee was a mirror. I saw all my old excuses, fears, and manipulations staring back at me. I also saw how much I’d grown without realizing it. Walking another alcoholic through the Steps was like walking them all over again myself. I had to reread the book, pray for guidance, and rely on my Higher Power constantly. Sponsorship forced me to stay in the work. It’s hard to drift too far from the Steps when you’re guiding someone else through them.

In the beginning, I made every mistake you can imagine. I tried to say the perfect thing, to fix people, to make them “get it.” I thought their success or failure was somehow a reflection of me. I learned the hard way that my job isn’t to save anyone. My job is to show up, tell the truth, and point them toward the same Power that saved me. The Big Book reminds me, “We are not saints. The point is, we are willing to grow along spiritual lines.” Sponsorship keeps me willing.

Over the years, I’ve learned that sponsorship is less about teaching and more about listening. It’s about meeting people where they are, not where I think they should be. I’ve watched men stay sober, and I’ve watched men go back out. I’ve learned not to take credit when someone stays, and not to take blame when someone drinks again. The only thing I can control is whether I’m available when the phone rings.

The real gift of sponsorship isn’t what it does for the other person—it’s what it does inside me. It keeps me connected to God and to the fellowship. Every time I sit down with a newcomer and we read the Big Book together, I get reminded of the hopelessness I once felt and the miracle that I get to live sober today. It strips away my self-centeredness and reconnects me to gratitude. When I’m focused on helping someone else, there’s no room for the noise in my head.

Sponsorship has also taught me humility. I’ve seen my character defects reflected in the people I sponsor—my impatience, my ego, my need to be right. Working with others gives me a front-row seat to how self-will shows up in real time. It’s not always comfortable, but it’s always useful. Every time I think I’m “fixed,” a sponsee reminds me that I’ve still got plenty of work to do.

And here’s the thing I never expected: sponsorship has given me a sense of belonging I never had before. When I was drinking, I spent my whole life trying to fit in. I’d do anything to feel a part of something. But that kind of connection was always temporary. The unity I have now—the fellowship that Tradition One talks about—is built on giving, not taking. I’m part of a living chain of alcoholics helping alcoholics, stretching back to those first men who wrote the book. That’s what keeps this thing alive.

Sometimes I think about the long line of people that sponsorship connects me to. Bill carried the message to Dr. Bob. Dr. Bob carried it to others. My first sponsor carried it to me. And now, by God’s grace, I get to carry it to someone else. That’s Step Twelve service—the heartbeat of recovery and the current that flows through all of us who try to live these principles.

That night when the newcomer called, we talked for almost an hour. I didn’t fix him, didn’t give him advice. I just shared my experience and reminded him that he wasn’t alone. When we hung up, I sat there in the dark, wide awake and grateful. My life today is full of responsibilities, but service in sobriety isn’t a burden—it’s a privilege. It’s the service that changed my sobriety the most.

Because in the end, every time I carry the message and help another alcoholic, I’m the one who gets helped.


There’s lots of AA meetings available to attend in-person or virtually. If you’re struggling with drinking, seek out the help you need, you can’t do it on your own. I know I couldn’t do it on my own and still can’t.

Find a sponsor that will take you through the steps as outlined in the book. You’ll see more of the truth about who you are and eventually it’ll change your life.

Change Your Truth, Change Your Life.

Haler Smith

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