On Becoming Powerful -Acknowledging My Bad Ass Self
Choice in Recovery has been one hell of a ride, filled with the usual ups and downs that come along with any endeavor that carries a vision but no clear path towards its realization. The help that I received on this project has been amazing, and simply necessary. Every person that has showed up to a meeting, replied to an email, picked up a phone, met for coffee, printed flyers, etc. has played a role in pushing the project forward as it constantly transformed into what it is today. I thank all of you, for the praise, for the collaboration of ideas, and for the rejection. AND for the rejection. This isn’t some bullshit line of, “This is for my haters.” No, this is a thank you, for knocking me down just a little, opening my eyes to what can REALLY be, and giving me the necessary push to clarify a vision and solidify it in reality. Thank you all for being a part of a conversation that is long overdue.
Now I acknowledge someone that I often forget to praise, in the words of another, I acknowledge my bad ass self. I have documented the transformation of Choice in Recovery, the twists and turns the project experienced, the pivotal moments, the ups and the downs, but I have yet to really document what has happened to me, or what I have created myself to become.
The beginning. I was scared, scared shitless, of what I was diving into. I went so far as to document every single fear I experienced as I dove into the unknown. I listed each fear and dismantled it to my best ability. I explained to myself why the fear was unreasonable; it was imaginary, in my head, and it was only as real as I allowed it to be. I titled this piece, “When in doubt…” so I could go back and remind myself that fear was a fraud whenever I felt stopped. I honestly don’t remember ever going back to read this document when I was in a time of need, just writing it seemed to have worked in lightening whatever fears were at play in my mind. As I just reread it now, I realize all the fears that I documented in that work existed throughout this whole process, but not one of them stopped me. It’s amazing to reread that piece, I feel that I put up a middle finger to each of those documented fears along the way, like, “I hear you, but fuck off, this isn’t over yet.” Damn self, you really are a bad ass.
The biggest fear. My biggest fear was diving into a field that formally, I had no business meddling in. I was scared I wouldn’t be heard, and I often asked myself why I even thought my voice was worthy of being heard. Who the hell am I, to call onto professionals who hold masters and PhDs, and facilitators who have rougher backgrounds than me, and say, there is something missing here? Who the hell am I, at twenty four years old, with a BA in a fairly related but not focused field, to say, listen to me, we need to come together. I held a vision based on pure experience, I had nothing to my name to give any credibility to this experience, but I had a voice that was begging to be heard. So I let it speak, and the community listened. At times it was easy, it was easy when I felt that I was being heard, and at other times, my voice was muffled by the lack of listening on the other end. I’ve written about this interaction before, but one of the most pivotal moments of the project, and one of the most pivotal moments in the transformation of myself, was when I spoke to a certified addictions counselor at the MileHigh Ted Talks. In my conversation with him I stood my ground, but as I walked away, the stupid hamsters running on their wheels of fear went full sprint mode and my voice went silent.
In the face of no agreement. Here I had a professional, a level three certified addictions counselor with years and years of experience, telling me that not only was what I was doing wrong, but that I was delusional about myself. I was an alcoholic and one day I would really learn what that means (because eight years and countless nights of alcohol poisoning were clearly not enough). I went quiet, but my tear ducts decided to speak up. I cried to my friend as all of my fear mounted up. I questioned my voice, was I lying to myself, intending to help, but harming instead? The fear that arose from that interaction, the fear that would have stopped me in a moment’s notice, lasted just a couple of days and the result of those days became what is now known as Choice in Recovery. The result of that interaction was a voice that found wisdom in fear, and the result was an increased listening on my end. My voice was silenced for a moment’s time, it went into hiding to gain strength, and it came back transformed. I recognize now, as evident in the writing of this piece, that if I was up to transform a community, I had to be open to transform along with it. So I did.
As the project continued, I stood by my own recovery, I stood by word, and I stood by it being my truth. With that said, I listened to others as their word being their truth. I transformed myself into my vision and moved forward, ready to be heard, and ready to listen. I was ready to stand for every route toward recovery, even for those routes that refused to stand for mine.
Being heard. I went from feeling that I had no right to speak up in this community, to becoming someone that is sought out to be heard. I have become someone who can organize individuals that represent different routes to recovery. I have become someone who is capable of setting up a meeting, creating an agenda, and leading a room of people to produce necessary results.
In the face of no agreement, take two. As we wrapped up our final meeting prior to the big day, it was suggested that we continue our search to find someone that could represent the twelve steps orthodox. I smiled at the suggestion, stating, “I would absolutely love that, if you could find someone willing to take on that role.” I received an email a few days later with a contact, I set up the call and the conversation brought me back to my first breakdown. I explained my project, and when asked point blank if I still drink, I stated yes. I was met with worry on the other, and with similar statements of delusion and the inevitability of my hitting the lowest low. My hamsters broke out into a jog, but I continued to speak, with a transformed voice and transformed listening. I was asked to censor what I would say at the event, in other words, to censor MY recovery. My hamsters began to pick up the pace. As we reached the end of the phone call, she stated she would be on the panel if I wanted her; in a moment where I usually jump for joy, I told her I would let her know the follow day and that I would need to take time to think about it. I made two phone calls, and reached a decision.
Commitment. The goal of Choice in Recovery is to provide people with their options and allow THEM to powerfully CHOOSE which option was appropriate for them. 12 Steps is a major option available, and if I was to stick to my word and my vision, then I had to pull myself back from the picture, disregard my feelings, and make room for all of the options. I called her the following day as promised, and stated my decision. I stated my commitments, I stated my fears, and I stood for my word. I told her I am committed to providing all of the options who were willing to be present, 12 Steps is a huge option, so I would love her to be on the panel. I continued to state that I am committed to this being an open and accepting environment, I am fearful of discussion turning to argument. I also told her that I would not censor how I would begin the event, the different discourse that allowed me to pull myself out of an eight year struggle was the origin of the project. I am transparent, and I will not hide who I am. She replied that there would not be argument on her end, I thanked her for getting on board, and she then recalled our previous conversation. She stated that it was personal, and that when she recalled the conversation to another, they enlightened her that she did not know me, and she acknowledged that. In this moment I had gained, at least made a minuscule alteration, in the listening of a program that had originally refused to hear me.
Tomorrow is the day that eight months of hard work and organization come together. Tomorrow, which I initially saw as the end of my project, is the day that Choice in Recovery really begins. Tomorrow is the day that I stand in front of a room of however many people, give a speech, and facilitate a panel discussion. And I am scared shitless, still. I am nervous just imagining standing up in front of the room, my palms are getting sweaty just typing this. But tomorrow I will stand, IN my fear, as I continue to lead the transformation of a community. I mentioned that I am in awe when I realize what this project has turned into, but now I want to take the moment to be in awe of who I have become. Now I acknowledge myself. I acknowledge myself for taking on a project that sought to help a community that didn’t have the innocent face of an orphan, or the deteriorating body of a starving animal. I acknowledge myself for reopening a chapter of my life that I begged for death in, and facing those demons once more. I acknowledge myself for keeping my word, for committing to a vision, and for carrying it out. I acknowledge myself for speaking in front of a room of people despite my fear. I acknowledge myself for being a leader. Today, I acknowledge my bad ass self, for being such a damn bad ass.