As always, for a better reader experience, go directly to the Feel Good Studio substack website thesoberglow.substack.com, or open up the browser from the button on the top right of this email, or download the app.
It’s Sunday, Jan 29th, 2023. I originally intended to share this at the end of December. However, I immediately felt weird about it and scrapped it entirely. Thinking, who the fuck cares about the mundaneness of my little life. Also, why do I want to share this mundanity? But also, not everything has to be a resource piece, it’s ok to just share for the sake of sharing. As exciting as life is, it is also not. Social media will have us believe that our life is shit and that everyone else knows what the hell they are doing, and we somehow lost the memo. And I am well aware that there are people out there that may think this of me, and that doesn’t feel great. So without performance or performative humility, here are some simple moments in time of my life off-line. The side the socials don’t see.
One more quick note: these past two months (Dec/Jan), a lot of my focus for the FGS was on holding space live. From interviews, breathwork, and happy hours. For the next while (whatever that may be), I will be sharing more essay-form pieces.
Thank you again for being here in whatever capacity works for you. And much gratitude for allowing me to play around with this space without needing a commitment from me to show up in the same way day in and day out. That grace feels good and free to me.
XX, Mia
A YEAR IN REVIEW THROUGH PICTURES
“A picture means I know where I was every minute. That’s why I take pictures. It’s a visual diary.”
- Andy Warhol









January was all about cleaning, clearing, moving, and settling into our new home and new neighborhood. A neighborhood that I don’t love but one that I adored simply because of the quintessential California palm trees that perfectly lined the streets. We were so excited to have more space and more quiet. I was getting into the swing of my movement practice. The one and only podcast that I did this year with Ruby from Sober Curious went live, and it served as my launching pad for no longer using the word “sober” to describe myself. Pablo needed emergency dental work, and we were scared sh*tless for him because of his age. We were relieved when we were introduced to one of the best Vets ever, Dr. Jeff. We didn’t know it then, but Dr. Jeff would become a very important person to us in the coming weeks. A picture of my girlfriend and I cleaning up my old place. It was a day of newness for me, but also a day that would bring my friend life-changing news we will never forget. Life is fleeting; may we all love as big as we can, as much as we can.









February was all about my sweet boy Pablo. We started the month off on a great start with the release of my husband’s short film, Pablo Honey (02/02/22). We always knew he was a star :). And then, just like that, we started noticing his breathing becoming a bit more labored. When I got home from work on Feb 6th, I made the decision to take him to the emergency vet, thinking he had a cold or, worse, an infection from last month’s dental procedure, which would convince me to never put a dog through that again. The animal hospital told us to go home and that they would call us in the morning with an update. At 2 AM, my phone rang. The young man’s non-empathetic voice said something along the lines of - two lung masses w/ few options and no hope. I remember sitting on the floor in the middle of my apartment, unable to breathe, let alone talk. My husband took the phone from me and put it on speaker. We sat there sobbing as the anonymous voice encouraged us to come back and put Pablo down immediately. It literally was Deja Vu. We had lost Moses, our first dog together as a couple, the one who made us a family, at the same age, exactly 12 years-8 months. Same emergency vet, same devastating diagnosis, same time in the middle of the night, same suggestions. But this time, we were not going to let him go out like that. Not my fucking soulmate. Not Pablo. We chose to use steroids and antibiotics to buy him some time so we could breathe and figure this out. We got a family vet involved who gave us hope that it could be an infection. We got Dr. Jeff involved. We went to his office, and Joe sat inside as Pablo and I sat outside in the car for 5 hours, waiting to see him. We were happy to wait. It meant more time. More X-rays and tests were sent off to two more specialists. Loads of love, comfort, and treats were given. With the hope that this was a lung infection, I implemented cupping, percussion massage, and twice-daily steam showers. I didn’t leave his side. I prayed, I cried, and I took so many photos and videos. I couldn’t imagine life without him. Later that week, on the morning of Valentine’s day, Dr. Jeff called and said both specialists determined it to be cancer, and with his labored breathing from the mass pressing against his airway, it was time. The very next phone call was a nurse calling to tell me my aging, accident-prone mother was once again in the hospital with another broken bone. I was at max fucking capacity. I pulled myself together, and we took Pablo to the park that day and set out a blanket with toys and treats. We let him explore as we all soaked in the late afternoon sun. That evening Dr. Jeff came to our home. It was the most beautiful and gut-wrenching experience I have ever had. We were surrounded by candles and pictures and music playing in the background. Pablo was so calm and brave. He locked eyes with me and never looked away. As I held him for the last time in the same pink blanket we wrapped Moses in when we said goodbye, I told him I loved him over and over and over. And then he was gone. My 23lb soulmate left me.









March, I don’t remember much other than I kept myself busy. I went back to work and picked up a lot of extra shifts. I took on the daunting task of uploading all my archived IG posts into substack (not knowing how I would use them, just that I like the idea of taking ownership of them all). I got back into my movement practice after being frozen in stress and grief for weeks. I used ceremony and ritual for healing. I finally picked out dining room chairs after not having had any for nearly three months. I created a video for IG about alcohol, something I hadn’t done in a very long time. We mustered the energy to plan and book a vacation for our 20-year “dating” anniversary. I continued on with a long-standing search for the perfect beach hat that’s both protective, comfortable, and fashionable….have yet to find it. Pete had to learn how to be the only dog child and chose to become very dependent. I cried for Pablo every single day.









April felt like a deep sigh. Joe and I spent our 20 years together in the small Mexican town of San Pancho. Joe filmed a movie there at the beginning of 2020 and fell in the love with the town and locals, and promised to take me back when he could. Back at home, I was continuing on with the status quo. Trying to find my happiness again. Taking such sweet care of myself. Exploring more barre and pilates-type classes felt really nice at the time. I closed the month off by renting a home in Sedona, AZ, with two women from my first Baja retreat, C&N. These two were medicine to be around. They knew I was in pain, and they just held space for whatever I needed. We laughed, we hiked, we toured, we sound bathed, we made fun of each other, and we did whatever we wanted. I took naps every day without guilt. We all wore matching silk pj’s, did face masks, played games, and they encouraged me to make my favorite childhood meal. And then they tried to hide their terror of having to eat my favorite childhood meal of sloppy joes and doritos. Spring was in the air.









May was a month of taking responsibility. I flew back to the east coast to help my mom move. We finally got her out of her townhouse-type home and into a first-floor ranch-style home. This was a long time coming and something I had been asking my mom to do for years. How I pulled it off is beyond me, but other than the three movers we had for three hours, I moved her myself. I then unpacked, organized (secretly threw away tons of stuff), and labeled everything for her. I was there for five days and literally did not stop the entire time. We also managed to get all sorts of legal paperwork taken care of and had many tough but necessary conversations. If there is anything you take away from this year in review, please take this: get very involved in the lives of your aging parents! Have those hard conversations about their wants and needs, their money, and their choices. Create documents that hold all their information, numbers, friends, co-workers, medical information, medical teams, insurance, bank accounts, etc. After watching my girlfriend lose her mom suddenly and all of the shit she had to deal with on top of the tremendous stress she was going through, I had a fire brewing in me to get all this done. I also made the decision to up my game with movement. I hired a trainer named Ashley, who quickly became one of my life MVPs. She not only taught me how to properly train my body, but she also opened my eyes to how I was truly feeding my body. And it wasn’t as great as I thought it was. I started food tracking, and my mind was blown. Tracking definitely gave me pause and made me aware of how I have a habit of mindlessly eating. I truly appreciated all this new knowledge and self-awareness. Yes, even at 46 I continue to learn.
TO NOTE: tracking can be triggering. I get it. But for learning purposes, it is wonderful. And I personally choose to look at it in a “gamification” way and not in a diet culture mindset or as a controlling and restrictive tool in any way. I am also working on a piece around this topic and how we have seemingly swung too far in one direction that the mere mention of food or nutrition or taking care of oneself can get you publically canceled and/or used as a talking point for “toxic wellness.”