Lost Love

It’s time.

You’ve been here long enough. Cut the chains and wipe off the ashes. You have to do this on your own. Take a good look around. Do you see anyone else who can take on this task? No. You’ve tried that before and when they failed, your prison walls came closer and closer. You’re lucky the claustrophobia didn’t kill you. You were so sure that it would.

Take a good look in the mirror. Notice the wrinkles that you once used lotions and potions to prevent. Notice the chicken pox scar on your forehead that a few bad bang haircuts couldn’t conceal. Notice the freckles that once gave you enough faith to let the light in, if only for a brief moment. Notice the frizz and grey hairs popping up on your head that you desperately tried to hide with conditioner and hair dye. Glance down at your arms and the extra skin that sways back and forth when you wave your kids goodbye on the bus in the morning.

This next part will be hard, but you are worth it.

Pull your shirt up and look down at that space on your body that you have wanted to cut off since you were a kid. Try to remember a time when it was smaller. Try to remember a time when it was bigger. Try to remember a time when you didn’t hate it. Think about all of the diets, cleanses, disorders, cuts, Spanx, abuse, and tummy control leggings that suffocated you. Pain is beauty, isn’t it?

Keep going.

Now, focus on your legs that couldn’t sit still. Remember how they couldn’t run fast enough to set you free. Then remember how they ran a little too fast from moments that could have lasted if only you could have stayed in the present. Look at that extra skin that looks like cottage cheese and recall all of the gels, squats and self tanner you tried to use to make the fat disappear.

Lift your head up and look straight ahead. Make eye contact with person staring back at you. Think about all the times you couldn’t face her. Your eyes were always too blurry or too tired to focus. Remember how you wore the shame, disappointment, guilt, hurt, and anger like it was a new shade of foundation from Maybelline. Maybe you were born with it. Think about how you learned to hate that face and what’s behind it Think about all the plans you had, the places you would see, the life you thought you needed. Remember how you told yourself over and over that happiness was a big house, a two car garage and unlimited funds on a credit card. Then, remember how those things brought you desperation, not happiness.

Close your eyes. Fold your shaky hands and breathe.

Take a moment.

Take another moment.

Now, open your eyes. Those wrinkles on your face are souvenirs from happiness. You laughed too loud, now you have smile lines. You looked up to the sun and crinkled your forehead to take it all in. The chicken pox scar that made you feel different from the other kids isn’t visible at all anymore, it’s just part of your face. The freckles are reminders of camping by the ocean, walking the dog, bbqs with family, sitting on the swing with your legs pumping you up to the sky. That grey hair is there for a reason, you’re growing. No one becomes a self-sufficient adult without a few grey hairs. Those flappy arms have grown strong with each child you have carried through the sunshine and the dark. Those arms are home to the ones you love with each and every bear hug.

smile lines

It’s ok to be vulnerable. It’s ok to feel fear. Just ride it through so you can feel something better. I promise, you will.

That stomach that you wanted to carve out of your body is the most miraculous part of anatomy. That space is where you get nourished to live each day. That space has been abused for so long, it’s time to have gratitude for it. Your belly holds the memories of each delicious family meal and homemade desserts. It’s an excellent communicator of your daily needs, even when you forget. It may have been the space where you grew a life inside of you. It may have grown or shrunk over the years, but it’s sacred. It is your temple. It sustains your life and holds the parts of you that create the magic and wonder of life. It’s been beaten and bruised over and over again, but it’s still there. Part of you. Big, small, full, empty, covered in stretch marks, covered in scars. You can suck it in or push it out. It doesn’t matter.

Still a part of you.

Your legs are powerful. They have carried you this far, show some respect. Have gratitude for the limbs that have kept you standing on your own two feet. They haven’t given up on you, they just keep moving you right along.

Look back at your reflection again. That is the face of resilience. You are the image of strength, intelligence, perseverance and determination. The parts of you that are on the inside are the most important of all. You’ve let the voices of others create your internal dialogue. I’m here to tell you that you are the only voice you need to hear. You can gain knowledge and inspiration from others, but your thoughts are yours alone. They aren’t your enemy anymore, they are your gift. Your worth and presence in this world isn’t defined by your fears. It’s defined by your ability to go through them and survive.

You are a survivor.

It’s time to love yourself again. Take away your filters and appreciate the person you used to be, the person you are, and the person you are becoming. You may not know when or how you lost it, but you have just created the map to lead you right back to it. It’s always been there.

Love yourself.

happier than ever

Tryin’ catch me riding dirty

Imagine this:

It’s 9 pm on a busy saturday night. You’ve probably already had a few drinks before you go out. The first bottle of wine makes you feel confident and beautiful. You decide to have some more wine, just to maintain that buzz. You feel like superwoman. Drunk superman. You take out your keys, hop in the driver’s seat, and get on your merry way.

 

You cruise down the street for a minute or two, and then you see it. The cop car. Right behind you.

FUCK.

As the police officer walks up to your car, you try to act normal. You can’t act normal, you’re too drunk. The police officer asks for  your license and brings out the breathalyzer. It will inform the officer that you blew a .128. Yup, you’re drunk. You’re screwed. Off to jail you go.

You’re an idiot. Selfish, drunk idiot. You could have crashed and killed someone, even yourself.

 

Perhaps this story has a different ending.

 

 

You drive to a different town for your daily AA meeting at 9pm. You’ve had a pretty great day. The streets are kind of messed up, lots of construction and many Michigan lefts. You decide to take a left near some construction. Big mistake. Within one minute, a cop catches up with you. Your first thought is, ” Um…I havent been pulled over in fifteen years…what the heck!” The office talks to you through your open window. He asks you where you’re headed, did you not see the traffic sign, He shines his flashlight into your eyes and you have zero fear. You don’t drink anymore, your eyes aren’t puffy and blood-shot. The officer is very kind to you, gives you a ticket, and onward you go.

This is the true ending.

 

I didn’t have any reasons to worry. I am sober. But, I could have been sent to jail if I had been drinking and driving. The consequences would have been long and dark.

 

I was laughing as the officer and I talked. How ironic is it is getting pulled over on your way home from AA. I’m glad I got pulled over. It reminded me of what this could have been. This was a wake up call.

 

I’m almost 60 days sober and every day little miracles happen. It’s a miracle that I was sober that night. Each day into my sobriety, I realize how much gratitude and truth I have now. fullsizeoutput_669b

Serenity

Something pretty huge just happened. I made it to 30 days sober, and I”m still chugging along. Working those steps, reading the big book, reaching out to my new, incredible sober family and sponsor. I never thought I could be sober for 24 hours. No one, nothing could have come between me and my mommy wine time. If that meant hiding wine bottles all over my house so my husband wouldn’t see me drinking, then fine. If that meant lying to every single person in my life day in and day out, tha’ts fine too. If Iost myself in a bottle of Pinot Grigio, then FINE. I didn’t care. I deserved that wine. I didn’t have a problem, nope. I saw friends of mine do the exact same thing and they seemed fine.

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Slowly, but surely my life was spinning out of my control.

 

My first thought every morning woud be, ” When can I have wine? Where can I get it from? Did I have any hidden somewhere?” My last thought for the day would be, ” You have to get that wine early tomorrow. You’re going to need it.” Totally normal, right?

I wasn’t an alcoholic. I was a thirty-one year old stay at home mom, who happened to enjoy wine. I enjoyed it so much that I stopped enjoying everything else, including my children and marriage. All moms do this, don’t be ridiculous. I could totally stop if I wanted to, but screw that! I didn’t want to stop. Wine was my bestfriend, you don’t just push your bestfriend out of your life. Sometimes, I’d think about stopping, but I couldn’t do it on my own.

 

The past 30 days have changed my life forever. There was no heavy baggage on my shoulders anymore. There was honesty, truth, and acceptance. There was a gratitude for every day that I did not drink.

 

You can’t do this shit on by yourself. You need your people. They will guide you, encourage you, push you farther than you ever thought you would go. I go to AA meetings almost every day, and through those meetings and support, I am able to stay sober.

I feel like I’m finally waking up. It’s about time.