what helped me stay sober

Transformation Tuesday

Sometimes the beginning of a transformation gets us transfixed on what is behind us. It’s a contradictory move as it is real damn hard to move forward when you are looking back but I think it’s a pretty natural thing to do. There’s a lot of grief in walking away from what we’ve known. Even if what we have known hurt like hell or no longer works. I was craning my neck in early sobriety & it really slowed me down.. er.. brought me down. Today though, I wanted to share something simple I did the first week of my sobriety that had everything to do with looking back but was monumental in helping me move forward into my transformation.

I had been rummaging through a box of pen pal letters trying to find a friends address when I came across a picture of myself as a kid. Happy, in a tree, wearing rad AF high tops, genuinely smiling. I had the thought that if I could go back to that moment and start all over again, I would. It made me cry. Which was VERY uncomfortable for me at the time (Feelings? Yuck). Looking at her I felt what that little girl had wanted her life to be like & how I had epically failed to make it all come together. So I sat there & wallowed in the deep, dark, shitty feeling that is being your own disappointment & then… I remembered that time had not stopped. The fat lady was not singing. The bell had not rung.

I got up & put that picture on my fridge. I wanted to see that face every day. To be reminded of the dreams, energy, imagination & optimism she had. To remind me to do better for her. Because in reality so much of me is & will forever be her. Happy, in a tree, wearing rad AF high tops, genuinely smiling with her whole life in front of her. 

Years later, still sober & she is still there on the fridge. I see her first thing every morning when I make breakfast & sometimes I give her a high five. I mean how could I not? She’s awesome. 

10.5.2021 Leftover banana waffles with peanut butter, zodiac pear, strawberries & cocao nibs - for my inner child.