“So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.”
— John 8:36 (ESV)

For 5½ years, I was a model of abstinence. I worked the 12 steps. I had a sponsor. I sponsored other men. I collected sobriety chips and recited the mantras of Alcoholics Anonymous. I believed, with every fiber of my being, the central warning repeated in those rooms:
“If you pick up a drink, you will end up in jails, institutions, or death.”

Then, one day, my coworkers invited me for a drink after work.

And I said yes.

According to the doctrine I’d lived by for half a decade, that should have been the beginning of the end. The relapse spiral should have commenced. The police should have been called. The ambulance should have been waiting.

But that’s not what happened.

Thirteen years later, I am not in a mental ward. I am not in jail. I am not dead.

I am living a life of truce.

What Is a Truce?

A truce is not a surrender. It is not a white flag waved in defeat to alcohol. It is also not a declaration of war on abstinence.

A truce is a negotiated peace between two opposing forces: the part of you that desires the comfort of a drink and the part of you that desires the stability of sobriety. It is a conscious, disciplined, and deeply personal agreement you draft with yourself.

Why Draft Your Own Truce?

The rooms of AA teach you to fear yourself. They tell you that you are powerless and that your only choice is lifelong, rigid abstinence—governed by a program, a sponsor, and a thousand unwritten rules.

But what about the isolation? The exhaustion of white-knuckling? The feeling that you’re just waiting to fail?

A truce returns power and responsibility to you. No one knows your relationship with alcohol better than you do. A truce allows you to:

• Set Your Own Terms: Define what moderate, controlled drinking looks like for you.
• Break the Cycle of Fear: Live without the terrifying belief that one sip will lead to ruin.
• Find a Middle Path: Discover a happy medium that doesn’t involve total deprivation or total loss of control.

How to Begin Drafting Your Truce

This isn’t about recklessness. It’s about radical self-honesty. You don’t necessarily need a therapist or a doctor to start (though their guidance can be valuable). You can involve a loved one for accountability, but the first draft is written in the quiet of your own conscience.

1. The Foundation of Faith: My truce began not with a drink, but on my knees. It is built on the foundation of a relationship with Jesus Christ, who provides the strength my own willpower lacks.
2. The Math of Moderation: Define the “rules of engagement.” How much? How often? In what situations? Write them down. This is your treaty.
3. The Armor of Health: Support your body and mind. Nutrition, sleep, and exercise aren’t just clichés; they are your armor against the desire to over-indulge.
4. The Vigilance of Spirit: A truce requires constant vigilance. You must be willing to honestly assess yourself and return to abstinence if the terms of your peace are broken.

This path is not for everyone. But for some—for those who have felt suffocated by the binary choice—it is a path to true freedom.

Thirteen years ago, I chose to negotiate a peace. I haven’t looked back.

— Chris
(Author, “Grateful Truce”)

Is a truce something you could consider? Why or why not? I read every comment.