Love Keeps Me Sober
“To truly know our own light, we must first heal our shadows.” -Erin Nes
“If I don’t go, then how will I ever know what’s on the other side?” -Grace Potter
I never thought I would write this sentence, but here goes. Deep breath...
Hi, I’m Erin and I’m an alcoholic.
I’m totally in my comfort zone telling you my stories as a relationship therapist, soul coach, wife, mom, fellow human, spirit seeker, horse lover, Qoya teacher and all the other groovy things in my life. I adore sharing my passions and discoveries, especially if it helps others heal.
Yet there is a tenderness in sharing about my recovery. It’s a story about my shadows and light that sharing about in writing—on the internet—forever—feels more vulnerable than I’ve ever allowed myself to be.
Face-to-face, I am shamelessly sober. I’m happy to talk openly about how I got sober 13 years ago and chat about the ways in which reckoning with my addiction was a catalyst for so many of the blessings in my life today. A connected and loving marriage, two happy little boys, a multidimensional career I love, my spirituality-- sobriety has been the bedrock for it all.
Many clients have also told me over the years that my willingness to share about my recovery deepened their ability to trust me and to do the work themselves, which to me, is one of the most moving things a healer can experience.
When it comes to writing, however, it's far easier and safer to keep my sobriety “off the record.” There are parts of me that say, “Therapists are supposed to have their shit together ... You don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”
And when I go even deeper, there’s a part of me that just says, “Noooooo, it’s not safe to let people see ALL of you! What if “they” don’t like you? It’s better to stay hidden behind a wall than to be judged or rejected...Do NOT go there!”
That’s my inner critic. She tries to protect the scared little girl part of me who just wants to belong. To which I lovingly say, “Oh, we’re going there. Thanks for trying to protect me. I promise, honey bunny, it’s safe to be seen.”
So in sharing this with you, lovely reader, I am reclaiming a piece of my own wholeness as I unhide yet another part of myself. As India Arie writes in her song “Break the Shell,” “Our shadows make us whole.”
So Why Am I Telling You this Now?
Getting sober initiated a journey of healing transformation that continues to light up my life. Moment by moment, experience by experience, one hard-earned honest realization after another, I have come to intimately know myself and heal the pain that once fueled my addiction.
I have learned that sharing and witnessing stories is a central part of healing. We long for the electric pulse of recognition that comes with reading or hearing our story in someone else’s story, remembering that we are not alone. Or the inspired action that comes when another person shows us that change is possible.
Along my journey, countless courageous women have spoken vulnerable truths about their journey to healing that resonated soul-deep within me. And whether your journey involves a struggle with alcohol or another type of challenge, my hope is that in reading my story, you feel empowered to begin or continue your own soulful journey to healing.
There’s a lot you’re up against when you’re first trying to get sober or make any dramatic change for that matter. Culturally, we are taught that we need alcohol or other substances to have a good time—we can’t socialize without it. God forbid we are the wet noodle who doesn’t fit in!
Or perhaps the idea of going out and not having a drink with friends when everyone else is drinking feels like deprivation. The anxiety of what people might say or think if you don’t drink may feel really overwhelming. And then there’s the dreaded FOMO…it can feel really unfair and isolating to be the odd woman out.
It may feel or seem impossible to make this kind of a change at first, but believe me, there’s so much freedom waiting for you on the other side.
So here’s my story…
My sober story is not crazy dramatic. I was lucky because I was able to get sober young at almost 26 with my life still intact. While there are many people in recovery who went to rehab and felt like they had no other option, my experience was more internal, which I don’t think enough people talk about.
Too many women suffer quietly and don’t get help because they can’t relate to stories of hard-drinking and tremendous loss. Instead, they struggle through the status quo, numbing their stress, depression, anxiety, and shame with alcohol.
Drinking affects everything, but life feels hard and drinking provides relief, so why stop? Meanwhile, their relationships suffer, their schedules and social lives revolve around drinking, their bodies feel sick, and in the back of their minds, they’re worried… or maybe even terrified of touching the feelings underneath the drinking.
At least that’s how it was for me.
In a way, it was shame and fear that tricked me into stopping drinking.
I was newly married, in a new city, and newly unemployed, having left my job as a wine rep to high-end restaurants back in Texas. We moved to DC two weeks after our wedding for my husband’s job. I spent the first three months drinking wine, unpacking our apartment, feeling depressed, crying, and drinking more wine.
Filled with shame after gaining 70lbs over the course of two years selling wine, I was desperate to lose weight. Brides in Texas are supposed to be “beautiful and thin” and planning my wedding left deep scars.
I couldn’t moderate. I waited until 5 pm every night to crack open my first bottle. As soon as my lips hit the glass, I already hungered for a second. And a third...and then when my husband would get home, I’d finish the bottle and pass out on his lap while we watched TV. It was like the wine was a third party in our relationship.
The combination of fear that I would fuck up the most loving, sacred and secure relationship I had ever known, and the disdain I had for my round, adrenally taxed body was enough to help me make a New Years’ resolution to pause the wine consumption so I could lose weight.
Having been on a diet on and off since I was 9, I sought refuge in Weight Watchers in January of 2007. I told myself I’d stop drinking for a while and reevaluate later. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the wine. It was like I was breaking up with a lover.
Every time we went to a restaurant, I thought the waiter was judging us for ordering sparkling water instead of my usual 3 glasses of wine. And watching other people drink anywhere near me really pissed me off. It felt so unfair.
After all, I had recently passed a huge wine exam to advance my career and fancied myself a connoisseur. I loved the culture, the ritual, the aroma, the flavor, and the passion that the people who made and served the wine poured into it. How could I give that up?
Most of all, I loved the way that first glass made me feel. Wine was my medicine, the magic elixir that made the stress and the painful feelings go away. Only thing was, I wasn’t drinking because I loved it anymore. I was drinking because I couldn’t not drink.
Yet for four months, I put my fancy wine glasses away and feverishly dedicated myself to losing weight, sure that one day I would go back to drinking; this was just a break.
Until one night at Weight Watchers when I realized the whole “I don’t have a drinking problem, I’m just not drinking right now” jig was up. I didn’t lose weight for the second week in a row and it felt catastrophic. Furious, I yelled, “I gave up wine for this shit! Why isn’t it F***ing working?” The woman behind the scale looked confused by the crazy woman yelling at her about wine.
This was an eye-opening moment for me. I realized that my obsession with alcohol had a hold on me way more than I ever wanted to admit. I needed to heal and change my entire lifestyle… not just white knuckle it until one day I was “skinny enough” to drink again.
So the following week, Brad dropped me off at my first AA meeting. It felt like I was going to my first day of preschool, walking into a whole new world and having no idea what lied on the other side.
Nervously, I started talking to people with the same problem and recognized that I needed a new culture around me. I was mourning my drinking and needed to grieve not only the loss of the substance but the loss of a lifestyle that was so familiar to me.
There is power in community. I made friends who were in the same place as me. We were in this sober life together. In time, I learned how to socialize and play sober. I learned how to deal with situations involving alcohol that felt triggering while managing other people who challenged my sobriety. I learned how to live one day at a time, gratefully.
I also learned how to hear my own voice, speak my truth and set some serious boundaries.
Friends and family members occasionally said, “You’re not really an alcoholic, you just really like wine. Try moderating.” Or, “Why can’t you just be okay with me drinking in front of you, don’t be a stick in the mud…” To which I learned to say, “Thanks for your opinion, but no, I know this is true for me..” and “I’m not comfortable with you drinking in front of me right now. Period.”
That was huge.
Before I got sober, I literally washed my feelings and my words down with wine. Connecting with my voice was one of my first steps to truly healing.
And if I hadn’t taken that first step into AA, I would never have learned how much I truly needed to heal. I would never have gone to therapy and met a therapist whose belief in me helped me to see the light in myself again.
Layer by layer in therapy, I unpeeled the layers of shame and pain that had been lurking beneath the surface of my addiction. I got to know and learned to work with the parts of me that were angry, afraid, anxious, critical, overwhelmed, rebellious, sad and hidden away in shame from a childhood with ADD and body issues. I discovered these wounded parts were actually trying to keep me safe the best way they knew how. They needed me to witness their pain, to let them fully feel, and to gently lead with compassion instead of judging and denying their existence (a lifelong process :)
I also uncovered the parts of me that loved life, that got shit done, that were trustworthy, resourceful, radiant, daring and grounded; the parts that I knew were there while I was in the throes of addiction, but seemed so far out of reach.
It was like I turned on a light inside.
And after a year of living sober, I no longer needed to live at war with myself.
Getting to know the whole me, and healing my relationship with myself, I realized that it was safe to take a look at myself in all of my imperfections and embrace the fullness of who I truly am.
Over time, as I healed myself, I discovered the healer in me. I became a therapist and learned how to humbly hold space for others, supporting my clients to find healing in their lives and relationships.
I also became a mother whose children will never know me as an alcoholic and instead as a silly, loving, and engaged Mommy who really loves pink and horses…and sparkling water.
I also slowly but surely continue to heal my relationship with my body. I am learning to embody self-love at every stage of life. Through pregnancy, postpartum depression, and motherhood, my body has supported me through each unique season—even in times when I’ve protested.
Staying present in my body and with my feelings is not always easy, yet it is a process that has empowered me to stay sober and stay with myself time and time again without numbing.
I have learned that I am worthy of being seen and loved regardless of my size. I am no longer “waiting” to lose weight in order to fully show up and be seen in business or anywhere else in my life. I am done apologizing for who I am or how my body looks.
In addition to practicing therapy and soul coaching, I have stepped into a new role as a Qoya dance teacher. Together, we savor the joyful aliveness of being in our bodies and celebrate the transformation that comes when we dare to walk the path of healing.
I have also discovered a love of horses along this journey to self-love that has taught me more about staying present in my body and moving through fear with love than I could have ever imagined. It brings me immeasurable joy and I can’t wait to share horse medicine with women this spring when I complete my certification in Equine Facilitated Psychotherapy. Amazing how the universe works.
A single step can change everything.
As I share my story and uncover all the areas of which sobriety has affected my life, in the best way possible, I want you to know this is possible for you too.
This is not a “how to get sober” guide, but instead, a vulnerable piece of me that I feel compelled to share with you in hopes it can help you turn inward and get the support you deserve.
Here are a few ideas to help you get started.
Honesty sets you free
Knowing and facing the fact that I cannot safely drink alcohol and live the kind of life I was born to live, set me free.
An integral part of my sober journey was rebuilding my self-esteem and faith in myself by staying sober and showing up for life without drinking my way through it half asleep. Part of that process was getting really honest with myself about my addiction. I had to find my “why” for getting sober.
Radical honesty is powerful. In order to get sober, you will need to get REALLY real with yourself. You need to understand intimately why you are drinking and what feelings you are trying to numb so you can get to the root of your pain and not be swayed by others’ opinions. And, you need to get real about how your addiction is affecting the rest of your life.
If you’re somebody who drinks, and then passes out every night like I did, how is it affecting your relationships? Or, if you’re stressed by the demands of a taxing job, kids, family, etc, and find that three to five glasses of wine is the only medicine that works at the end of the day, consider asking yourself what it is you truly need.
Some people are wired for addiction - it’s embedded deep in our genes. I know and respect the fact that I am a “work hard, play hard” kind of gal who can naturally surf the highs and lows if left unchecked. I am easily addicted and it’s a huge relief not trying to pretend that I can drink safely.
I also come from a long line of heavy Irish drinkers, many of whom struggled in their lives and relationships because they didn’t get the help they needed. Being honest about what I need and what I don’t need in my body supports me in turning the off switch on tendencies that so many people in my family have struggled with. It feels good to know that it can stop with me.
I’m not here to pass judgment, I’m here to invite you to explore your truth.
What’s your why?
Get Support
There are lots of different ways to get sober, it doesn’t always start with AA. AA was a good first step for me. It gave me a framework for a new life. But it wasn’t what kept me sober. While AA gave me community and a sense of connection to others in the same boat, therapy helped me heal the shame and the pain I so desperately tried to numb.
Through therapy, I was able to heal and found my passion to help others overcome the pain and the wounds they keep locked up inside. I found the love inside of myself that I so desperately looked to the outside to provide.
Fear is what got me sober, but love is what keeps me sober.
I now understand that my drinking was really about hiding myself and numbing the shame of feeling both like too much and not enough. And stopping drinking was the beginning of what I now realize was a 13-year process of unhiding myself.
I am so grateful for the journey that started with such a vulnerable step into my shadow and guided me through the mess, the laughter, the tears, the ah-has—over around and through to the aliveness of this very moment here with you.
I find myself going back to some of the same principles I learned in AA and therapy to get me through my newest challenge, removing sugar (another substance I’ve dearly loved) from my diet. This is not part of a fad to lose weight, but due to some health test results from my doctor and advice to move towards the healthiest version of me. It feels good to start from a place of love. Once again, one brave small step (and one dramatic phone call to my husband:) at a time.
We’re all in this spiral of life together, evolving and getting braver with every turn through our light and shadows. There is no such thing as perfect. Perfect is some ideal that someone else made up.
As Brene Brown tells us in the Gifts of Imperfection, “Worthiness does not have prerequisites.” And neither does your healing.
You’re not alone. And you are worthy of support.
Thank you for reading my story and witnessing the next phase of my growth as I learn to more openly share my lived experience. We all have our own demons, battles, and struggles in this life. If you find yourself in need of support and healing (whether you’re struggling with alcohol, a relationship, or anything else) I’d love to guide you through your healing journey or be a resource. I’ve been there. Each person’s story is unique and as a therapist and soul coach, I want to help you heal from the inside out. Click here to learn more. And if you think this post will support someone else, please share it. Together we truly are stronger.