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I Was Told to "Hush" at the Dinner Table
From a young age, I learned that the world had certain expectations. I lived in a world that seemed to celebrate conformity, so I had learned to mold myself into what I thought was acceptable. I always felt like a puzzle piece that never quite fit. I wore a mask, a carefully crafted facade that hid my true self, and over the years, that mask became so comfortable that I forgot what lay beneath it. It was a mask of confidence, laughter, and charm, hiding the insecurities and fears that churned beneath the surface. My childhood was marked by a longing for acceptance. I watched my peers laugh and bond, while I stood on the sidelines, feeling invisible. To fit in, I adopted the interests and opinions of those around me, sacrificing my own identity in the process. I became a chameleon, changing colors to blend in, but deep down I felt like a ghost haunting my own life, drifting through it, never truly connecting with anyone. The mask I wore became heavier with each passing day, and the girl behind it began to fade over time. As I grew older, the pressure to maintain my facade intensified. I entered relationships that were more about validation than love. Each partner brought their own set of expectations, and I, desperate to be accepted, contorted myself to meet them. But instead of love, I found myself in a cycle of emotional and physical abuse, where my own worth was constantly questioned, and my spirit was chipped away piece by piece. The trauma of these relationships left some pretty deep scars. Anxiety became my constant companion, whispering lies that I was unworthy of love. Depression wrapped around me like a heavy blanket, suffocating my dreams and ambitions. I felt trapped in a dark tunnel with no light at the end, and the weight of my pain became unbearable.
In my search for relief, I turned to alcohol and substances. At first, they offered a temporary escape, a way to silence the chaos in my mind. But as the days turned into months, months into years, the addiction tightened its grip, chaining me to a cycle of highs and lows that left me feeling more lost than ever. The mask I wore began to crack, revealing the broken girl beneath, but I was too afraid to confront my true self. The walls felt like they were closing in, and the weight of my choices pressed heavily on my chest. Finally, I came head to head with the consequences of those choices and I had to face them. I was presented with a decision that had been made for me. I was sent to a treatment program in a minimum security prison for 17 weeks. To be honest, I never wanted to go to treatment. I thought there was always another chance, another way out. But the truth is, I had run out of chances. My life had spiraled so out of control, I lost custody of my four children and I was facing serious legal consequences. It was the first step towards taking control of my life again. It was the moment when I finally had to face my problems instead of running away from them. Every step of the way, I knew I was moving forward, towards a better version of myself. In treatment, I learned about addiction, about myself, and about how to cope with life without turning to substances. I finally was able to not only get sober but also given the opportunity to work through my traumas and struggles. I learned to forgive myself, accept myself, to love and value myself for the first time in probably forever. It took me a life crisis to happen in my life for me to realize that I had been running away from myself for far too long. I finally saw a flickering light of hope. I also met people who were going through similar struggles as me. For once, I didn't feel alone in my battle. We supported each other, leaned on each other, and lifted each other up when we felt like giving up. It's true what they say, there is strength in numbers. They didn't judge me or make me feel ashamed of my past mistakes. Instead, they showed me compassion, empathy, and the belief that I could change my life for the better.
One of the most significant lessons I learned in treatment was that my addiction didn't define me. For so long, I had let my addiction consume me, and I didn't know who I was without it. But in treatment, I discovered my passions, my strengths, and my values. I started to see myself as a whole person, not just an addict. My addiction had caused so much pain and damage in my relationships, but in treatment, I learned how to communicate effectively and build trust again. It wasn't easy, but it was worth it. Today, I have a stronger support system than I've ever had. But perhaps the most significant change that happened was the shift in my mindset. Before, I saw going to treatment as a punishment, a consequence for my mistakes. But as I started to heal and grow, I realized that it was a gift. A second chance at life that not everyone gets. I also learned that recovery is not a one-time event; it's a lifelong journey. And that's okay because every day in recovery is better than every day I spent in my addiction. It's a continuous process of self-discovery, growth, and healing. And although there may be setbacks along the way, I now have the tools and support system to overcome them. Looking back on my journey, I can say with certainty that going to treatment was the best thing that ever happened to me. It allowed me to break free from the chains of addiction and discover who I am without substances controlling my life. It gave me a chance to rebuild relationships and create a new future for myself. I made the decision and finally reached out for help. It was a small step, but it was the first step toward reclaiming my life. The voice on the other end was warm, welcoming and understanding, and for the first time, I felt understood. From that moment on I began my recovery journey.
My personal recovery story is so many things but mostly to me it is beautiful. Everything that I have been through has shaped me into who I am today. The truth is, as a woman, I'm absolutely terrified to share my recovery story. I feel like it's us women who are still operating under the male gaze. I believe all men, at some point, have unwittingly exploited their position in the world. I'm not saying all men are bad, but we should all be more aware. As a woman, sharing my struggles with addiction and emotions is daunting. Today, it feels like we live in this constant state of fear. Fear of consequences, fear of judgment, fear of failure. We have become so focused on avoiding negative outcomes that we often forget about the importance of empathy and understanding. This fear-based culture has caused a shift in our values and actions, leading us to prioritize the avoidance of consequences over genuine respect for others. But is this truly the right path for us to follow? I believe some things have changed over the years, but who's to say that it's for the right reasons.
I can't help but think about my own journey now and how writing has played a crucial role in shaping my perspective. Writing and journaling have been my go-to coping mechanisms during difficult times, and through this practice, I have discovered the power of empathy. And I think that I've opened this huge door, for myself, and possibly for others, to follow this path and openly share all of the struggles and victories I've overcome and experienced, and to openly share it with others. Journaling has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. In fact, I began journaling when I was very young, and I continued well into my teenage years. I always felt like I was different from my peers, like I experienced things more intensely than others. But for me, writing provided an outlet to express those intense emotions. Somewhere down the line, however, I stopped writing. I don't even know when it happened. Maybe life got too busy or I just didn't see the value in it anymore. But whatever the reason, I had unintentionally let go of something that had once been a crucial part of my identity. It wasn't until I was incarcerated and then went into treatment that I began writing again. At first, it was a way to pass the time and distract myself from the harsh reality of my situation. But as I continued to write, I realized that it was much more than just a distraction. Writing became my therapy. It allowed me to process and make sense of all the chaos and trauma in my life. It was a safe space where I could pour out all of my thoughts and feelings without fear of judgment. And as I wrote, I found myself connecting with my inner self in a way that I had never experienced before.
I believe that writing and storytelling have a unique power to bring out people's empathy. When we read or listen to someone's story, we are able to put ourselves in their shoes and understand their struggles on a deeper level. And for me, writing was a way to connect with people and share my own struggles in hopes that it would resonate with someone else going through similar challenges. As someone who has battled addiction, writing has been an essential tool in my recovery journey. It has allowed me to confront my past traumas and struggles and find healing through self-expression. And now, as a recovering addict, I want to use my writing to inspire and help others on their own journey to recovery. I want to be relentlessly brave and write without fear. I want to share my story, even the darkest parts, in the hopes that it will help someone else find the strength and courage to face their own demons. Through my writing, I want to break the stigma surrounding addiction and mental health and show that recovery is possible. Writing has also taught me the beauty of vulnerability. It's not easy to lay bare all of your struggles and mistakes for the world to see. But through writing, I have found that vulnerability is not a sign of weakness, but a powerful tool for connection and growth. By sharing my own vulnerabilities, I have found a sense of community with other recovering addicts who understand and relate to my journey. And perhaps most importantly, writing has allowed me to find beauty in all of my trauma and struggles. It has given me the strength and perspective to look back on my past with empathy and understanding rather than shame and regret. Through writing, I have transformed my pain into something meaningful, something that can potentially help others on their own journeys.
Journaling may have started as a simple hobby for me when I was young, but it has grown into something so much more significant. It has been a constant in my life, even when I didn't realize it. And now, as a recovering addict, writing has become an essential part of my healing process and a way for me to connect with others. Beauty is a word that holds so much power and influence in the society we live in. It is something that we are constantly bombarded with through media, advertisements, and societal standards. From a young age, we are taught that beauty is something to strive for, to achieve, and that it is defined by how others perceive us. But as I have grown and experienced life, I have come to realize that beauty is so much more than just what meets the eye. In my opinion, it goes beyond physical appearance and encompasses our thoughts, actions, and how we carry ourselves in the world.
Beauty is not a one-size-fits-all concept; it exists in each and every single one of us. It is unique, diverse, and constantly evolving. I used to be someone who constantly sought validation from others in terms of my appearance. I would base my self-worth on how many compliments I received or how desirable I was to others. But over time, I have come to realize that this mindset is not sustainable. It left me feeling empty and constantly seeking external validation. It was not until I learned to accept myself exactly as I am – with all my mistakes, accomplishments, failures, victories, flaws, quirks, strengths and weaknesses included – that I truly understood the power of self-love. As women, we are often bombarded with societal standards of beauty that can be unattainable and damaging to our self-esteem. But we have the power to change this narrative. We have the power to redefine beauty for ourselves and for future generations. It starts with each and every one of us recognizing and acknowledging the inherent beauty within ourselves. But it doesn't stop there. As women, it is our responsibility to uplift and empower each other. We need to break away from the toxic mindset of comparison and constant competition, and instead focus on celebrating the beauty in others. Whether it's through a simple compliment or a genuine act of kindness, we have the ability to make someone feel beautiful and appreciated. Beauty can also be found in the everyday moments of our lives. It is in the love and support of our family and friends, in the process of creating art, and in the small things that bring us joy. When we open our eyes and truly appreciate the beauty around us, it can change how we view ourselves. It can help us see the beauty within ourselves that may have been hidden or overlooked. I have also come to understand that true beauty comes from within. It is not just about physical appearance, but about the strength, courage, and resilience we possess as individuals. Beauty is about enduring our past traumas and finding the strength to heal and move forward. It is about embracing our flaws and imperfections and owning them as a part of who we are. For me, writing has been a form of therapy and self-expression. In my journey towards self-love, I have found beauty in the process of unburying self-love and self-respect from deep within myself. And through my writing, I have been able to discover my own inner beauty and the desire to share it with others. Discovering beauty in the world around me is not just a fleeting experience; it's a transformative journey that has reshaped my life. From the delicate dew drops of spring, the vibrant greens of summer, the beautiful changing colors of fall, to the enchanting snowflakes that dance from the sky in winter. These moments remind me that beauty is all around me, waiting to be embraced. Just the simple pleasures, like the warmth of fresh sunshine on your skin, the joy of getting lost in a captivating book, the strength of healthy relationships, and the pure delight of your children's laughter are not just minor details; they are the essence of a beautiful life, my beautiful life. I have found beauty in the strength and compassion of others, and believe that I can harness the healing power of writing as a form of expression and recovery. My own search for beauty is intrinsically tied to unearthing self-love and self-respect that has been buried deep within myself.
Today, I am committed in seeking honesty, kindness, and respect for others, especially those that are still struggling, with an open heart. Embracing this perspective allows me to see life for what it truly is—not just what I wish it to be. My life, even amidst darkness and despair, has been woven together by an unbreakable thread of connection, reminding me that beauty endures.
When we listen to someone share their story—be it of addiction, trauma, hardship, or discrimination—we validate their emotions and experiences. This recognition is powerful; it fosters shared compassion and understanding. For those who have faced struggles, having their story acknowledged can be a profound source of healing and a catalyst for courage to confront their own challenges. So for me to be brave and vulnerable enough to get my own story out there and share it with other people and in my community, I feel like it serves as a necessary reminder of our common hurdles, challenges, aspirations and goals, that truly we, as a recovery community, are building connections through our healing journey and a more compassionate and inclusive society. I honestly believe that we have the ability to impact and change lives. We all have the means to promote healing. We all have our own different set of struggles and challenges, some more so worse off than others. We all may come from different worlds, but together we can be more aware of the significance of sharing our own stories and the influence they might have in other people.
As I am writing this now, my hope is that we can shift back to empathy and understanding and break free from the fear-based culture that has consumed us and prioritize human connection and compassion. And as I continue writing I've gained a better understanding of myself and others, and in my opinion that is where true change begins. There's always a beginning to every story. For me, personally, I was always beginning, ending and restarting my life over and over. I never knew where to start. So one day I just took that one first step, then the next, and then the next. I'm usually a very closed off person who rarely shares my true thoughts or past experiences with anyone. One thing I've realized is that the only way for me to truly heal and grow is for me to open up and share the things I'm going through with other people. Safe supportive people. I've had to cut ties with so many people in my life but it was absolutely necessary. In my experience, in life there are people you meet that you get to know, and then there are people you meet that you already know. For me one of those people was my husband. When we met I had just gotten out of an 8-year relationship with someone that I had two children with. And before that was a 4-year relationship. And before that a 2-year relationship. I've been in overlapping relationships for the good part of 20 years and lived in this constant state of fear of being alone or unworthy of anything real. I constantly rushed into relationships I never was ready for. My husband introduced me to the only version of himself he wanted me to know. He was this sort of master of disguise for a couple of years until his facade started to reveal an unravel itself. Slowly but surely he started showing his true colors. Unable to take accountability and face his own demons, he took part in cracking me into a thousand pieces, and then he just ran. I still love him, he's the father of my youngest two sons. I'll probably love him forever even when I shouldn't. But through the gift of recovery and self growth I no longer have to accept anything less than what I truly deserve. Today I know that I deserve respect and love from others as well as for myself. I got lost in the idea of him and in this idea of what I thought to be the American dream so to speak. At the time I felt a sense of purpose with him that now I can no longer even remember. Once you promise yourself to someone forever it's hard to ever think of them not being part of your future. I try not to spend much time thinking about those days because it's still painful and raw. It was the beginning to an end. There were so many happy memories that I'll cherish until the day that I die, but there were tragic moments that I wish never would have happened. Some memories haunt me still to this day. However, all of them, the good, bad, ugly, wonderful and terrible memories have given me the beautiful life I have today. They've all contributed to the woman and Mom that I am today. I was given the courage and strength to take a step back and refocus where I want my life to go. He needs to face his own demons and work on his own recovery and I am unable to focus on me and mine while being married to him. And as hard and painful as it's been to separate, I've been able to mourn and move on. I've been able to rediscover and redefine myself through recovery and self growth. I've been blessed with the gift of sobriety that has opened a whole great new world of opportunities and adventures. I stopped dwelling in perpetual crisis, got off my pity pot that was preventing growth in my life and I eventually found freedom and this thing called acceptance.
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