Sobriety is sacred. For many of us, choosing to live alcohol-free is one of the most courageous, life-giving decisions we’ll ever make. But what happens when the very spaces that promise healing, safety, and sisterhood begin to mirror the same dynamics that drove us to numb out in the first place?
More and more women I speak with are quietly leaving 12-step spaces—not because they don’t value the principles, the traditions, or the structure—but because they no longer feel safe or seen within them.
The Pain of Not Belonging in a Place That Promises Belonging
It’s a heartbreak few talk about: showing up to a recovery space week after week, only to feel invisible. You try to share, to connect, to offer your presence—but you're met with silence, side-eyes, or subtle exclusion. You're not asked to coffee. You're not included in the “after-meeting” chats or text threads. You begin to notice the cliques—the unspoken hierarchies, the favoritism, the quiet policing of how “sober” or “program” enough you are.
This isn’t just uncomfortable. It’s retraumatizing. Especially for women carrying sisterhood wounds or histories of bullying, abandonment, or being “othered.”
Some describe the feeling as being spiritually lynched—ostracized in a space that preaches radical acceptance and love.
When Safety Becomes Performative
Recovery spaces are meant to be sanctuaries—brave containers where you can show up messy, raw, in-process. But for some women, the rules of “safety” are not applied equally. Instead of curiosity, there is judgment. Instead of inclusion, there is control. The group becomes more about conformity than connection.
And here’s the thing: when a space that claims to be healing becomes a space of harm, your body knows. Your nervous system knows. You start to dread going. You leave meetings feeling worse. And eventually, you leave altogether.
Not All 12-Step Spaces Are the Same
It’s important to say this: not every 12-step room feels this way. There are beautiful, inclusive meetings that offer deep, life-changing support. Some of us have been lucky enough to find those rooms—or to create them.
But when you haven't, or when you once did and things shifted, it can be profoundly disorienting and painful. Your decision to step away doesn't mean you're not committed to your sobriety—it means you're listening to what your body, your heart, and your spirit need now.
Leaving Doesn’t Mean You’ve Failed—It Might Mean You’re Healing
If you’ve walked away from 12-step spaces because you felt unseen, unwelcome, or unsafe—know this: you are not alone. And you are not a failure.
You are responding to a deeper wisdom. You are honoring your nervous system. You are refusing to stay in spaces that replicate harm, even if they’re wrapped in the language of recovery.
There are other paths. Other women. Other ways of living sober that are grounded in love, embodiment, and true belonging.
What We Long For
We long for spaces that center lived experience, not hierarchy.
Spaces where safety is felt, not forced.
Where your story matters. Your voice matters. Your body matters.
We long for sober spaces that celebrate nuance, autonomy, and diversity of thought—not just dogma or doctrine.
We long for spaces where sisterhood feels nourishing, not threatening.
And for many of us, that means building new communities. Trauma-informed, heart-led spaces where we can unlearn the patterns of invisibility, silence, and shame—and come home to ourselves and each other.
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