Last year a friend asked me to speak in front of some of our fellows and share my story at a support group meeting. I had achieved 4 years of sobriety a few months prior. A speaker at this particular meeting shares their strength, hope and experience at a podium for 45 to 50 minutes in front of a group of varying size depending on the week. I had been to this meeting many times and benefited from the people who had chosen to share their stories. I had always thought (and said) that I would NEVER, EVER speak. Public speaking is something I previously avoided at all costs. However, I decided that in pursuit of personal growth, I would make an attempt. I would give back to a meeting that had given me hope since the early days of my journey.
As I was preparing, my thoughts drifted back to my college days. Speech class was a mandated requirement of graduation. I have a vague recollection of preparing for a class where I was to deliver my assignment, a speech, that day. I was a nervous wreck and was looking for something to calm my nerves. A couple of weeks prior underage me had won a bottle of tequila at a party. I had the bottle hidden in my dorm room closet. The brilliant idea I had was to take a couple of swigs from the bottle before heading to class. Now as I was getting ready to deliver my story to a roomful of sober people… this memory cropped up with all its irony. Not that I was thinking of drinking at that moment, but as a reminder that I was going to have to throw away the crutches and handle this speech in uncharted territory i.e. sober.
I volunteered to speak over Memorial Day weekend. This was self-serving. I figured that attendance would be low, everyone would be out of town or otherwise engaged at BBQs and such. I was hoping on a very small audience, so when I humiliated myself or messed up, there would be few witnesses. The day I was to speak, I flushed out a timeline with life events I would touch upon and talking points for when I froze up in terror. And I was conflicted. I wasn’t sure what to share or what to reserve so that I wouldn’t be judged too harshly by my audience (who I was hoping would be 5 to 10 people.) Obviously, my story was incredibly unique, possibly unrelatable. For years I had been told to look for the similarities. However, I guess in some ways I was afraid that I would discover from sharing my story with my peers that I was TOO different, that there would be no similarities. After I had my timeline flushed out, however, I spent some time in quiet reflection. I looked over the events on my paper and decided to see the progress – especially in embracing my story.
That night my husband came with me to the meeting. We sat with a group of my friends who had come out to support me. As it was getting closer to starting time I noticed that the crowd was seeming kind of large. Not kind of large, it was very large – a big crowd. A friend later told me her guess was there were 40 or 50 people in the room that night. My plan had backfired. But I had committed. So I relied on one of the many tools that had been given to me over the previous 4 years. I prayed vigorously. Peace set in. This was going to go down how it was meant to go down.
The meeting got kicked off, and I headed to the podium with a book that I had brought with me that brings me peace -and my notes. I took a deep breath, glanced at my notes, folded them up… and shoved them into the book. Then I commenced talking openly and honestly, sharing in a no-holds-barred fashion. I made sure to engage the audience, making eye contact, and I shared from the heart, with surprising courage and openness. I have never viewed courage as an attribute I possessed. But for me to do what I did – that took courage. It was coming from a place of peace and serenity that I can only attribute to my belief I have cultivated in a higher power, something greater than myself.
What surprised me is I could see that my story resonated, people were seeing the similarities. I spoke for 45 or 50 minutes without stopping. I left nothing on the table – I spoke “all in”. I had several people come up to me afterwards and tell me how they could relate. What particularly stands out was these two guys who called out to me as I was leaving. They said they thought when I was starting that they weren’t going to be able to relate. But they said I was the “real deal”. I took that to heart.
I know that I have struggled and overcome quite a bit in my forty plus years on this planet. I try to make it look easy. I try not to wallow in being a victim of my circumstances – my challenges – some of which have almost taken me out over the years. That night I let people see the “real” me. I’ll be honest, I don’t always let people in. It’s one of the challenges with putting my writing out there into the universe. However, I subscribe to the theory that alone is a choice. My life has not been easy, but getting over the hurdles and flare ups has made me who I am. And I’m actually ok with who I am today, especially now that I realize I have the capability to change and grow. It’s exciting on some days. When you see the progress in yourself, it is a wonderful reward. Too often I looked at the fails and not the wins… but life is made up of both.
Here is my wish for you, dear reader – embrace your story, celebrate the wins, recognize the fails and use them as opportunities to grow! Life throws us plot twists that at times can seem impassable and unmanageable, but navigating them gives us the opportunity to show our inner grace. Recognize your own courage in the face of personal challenges. Progress and growth are available to anyone who chooses to pursue them. Peace and Serenity do exist in this world. I found mine buried deep inside of me, in the core of my being. They have probably been there the whole time, but it took sharing my story with a room full of people to recognize it.