By the time I was 24 years old, my life was in complete shambles. I had long-standing substance abuse problems that destroyed my marriage to my high school sweetheart and ruined a promising military career. Once divorced and ejected from the military, I sold drugs and trafficked guns. My addiction and illegal business culminated in an incident in which an innocent bystander was killed. I was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to just under 30 years to life.
Once in prison, reality was so hard to face that I did everything I could to escape it. I lost even more of myself in drugs, violence and jailhouse politics. In my more lucid moments I knew that I had to change, but I didn’t think it was possible. Furthermore, I didn’t know how to start. Then one day, at age 30, I did the most benign-seeming thing that changed everything: I quit drinking soda.
I wasn’t particularly health conscious, but I had read some articles about how soda can contribute to health issues like diabetes and obesity, and how it can weaken tooth enamel. One article said that if a tooth is placed in a glass of cola overnight, it will completely dissolve by morning. That’s an urban myth, but it did make me think of a trick I had learned in the Army, which was to pour a can of Coke in the laundry to help remove grease from clothing.
So I decided I wasn’t going to drink soda anymore. It was a relatively easy commitment to make in prison: I could only buy soda once every two weeks when I went to the commissary, and drinking it cold was a rarity since ice was hard to come by.
Still, it felt good to make the decision to deprive myself of something and stick with it. This was the first time in my life that I had made that kind of change, and it illuminated something I had only vaguely been aware of — that a major source of my life’s problems was my lack of self-discipline.
That was a truth I had never acknowledged before, because to do so would have meant admitting weakness. My ego would not allow for that. Quitting soda brought the problem into clear focus and gave me the confidence to try to do more.
And I did do more. I committed to lifting weights three days a week. Then four. Then five. The increase in my physical strength and the changes I was seeing in my body further stoked my confidence and motivated me to keep going. So I learned to speak passable Spanish, box and play chess. I taught myself to litigate by reading case law, practice aids and law journals and working on people’s cases. My newfound discipline even helped me quit smoking and then drugs.
Along with my behavioral changes came changes in the way I thought about things, and the way I felt about myself. If personality is defined as a person’s pattern of thinking, feeling and behaving, then I succeeded in changing mine.
Years later, in a psychology class, I came across a theory of personality change based on the work of psychology professor and researcher Nathan W. Hudson. It posited that a person can change their personality in three steps. First, they must believe that changing an aspect of their personality is both desirable and possible. Second, they must work on changing behaviors that are relevant to that aspect, using small, actionable goals. Third, their behavioral changes must become habits that calcify into traits.
I wasn’t thinking about psychology when I started my process of transformation. Nevertheless, my experience lined up with what I later learned. Quitting soda was my step one. That simple act allowed me to trace the catastrophic outcomes of my life back to my lack of self-discipline, and it convinced me that change was possible.
Step two was to make more behavioral changes related to self discipline, like lifting weights and learning to play chess. By choosing relatively minor changes at first, and implementing them incrementally, they were easy for me to sustain.
This led to step three: My new behaviors becoming habits, and those habits elevating my level of self-discipline. This elevation allowed me to tackle more significant behavioral changes like quitting smoking and drugs.
After years of repeating this three-step cycle, I can say that I have altered my personality. I am now one of the most disciplined people I know. As a result, I have had many positive developments in my life.
I earned an associate degree, graduating at the top of my class. I am currently on track to do the same while earning my bachelor’s degree. I was selected to speak to state legislators and the lieutenant governor about expanding college in prisons. I obtained paralegal certification, and I work in the law library helping others exercise their rights in court. I teach the legal research class and tutor other college students. I counsel high school students as part of the Youth Assistance Program. And I married the most outstanding woman on the planet.
On the surface, this story may seem like one of triumph. In reality, however, it is one of bitter irony. Only after causing so much suffering was I able to make the changes that could have prevented that violence and tragedy in the first place. But the worst of what is done cannot be undone. I can never make up for the past, but I can try to offset it as much as possible by being the best person I can going forward. I’m getting better all the time, and I owe it all to quitting soda.
Eric Williams is a law clerk, writer, teacher and advocate at Shawangunk Correctional Facility in New York. In 2024, he was selected by the State University of New York as an ambassador for the expansion of higher education in prison. He is serving 30 years to life for second-degree murder and related charges.
