Tuesday, April 13, 2010

I carry three medallions in my left front pants pocket at all times. The medallions are in recognition of my years of sobriety. One is the most recent I've received, for 27 years. Another was a gift from my beloved friend and surrogate mother, Jackie. The third is my 24-year, which went to Phil Collins (yes, that Phil Collins) along with a letter from me thanking him for the role his music has played in keeping me sober and (semi) sane, and was returned to me with a kind note from the man himself. More on the long, amazing story of Mr. Collins and my sobriety another time.
On one side of each medallion is the phrase "To thine own self be true." It took me a long time to understand the resonance of those words. Easy enough to say, but how can you be true to thine own self if you don't know who thine own self truly is?
Being your genuine self is work. It's much easier to show the self that pleases, the self family, friends and coworkers expect of you. Better to smile and say "I'm fine" than reveal that you're having a soul crushing day, right? Who wants those gory details? Better to nod and agree than say what's on your mind and risk the possible fallout.
It's taken me a lot of years to know and love the me that I am. Alcohol was my escape hatch from reality for a few short, intense but critical years, my late teens and early 20s. Instead of becoming who I was meant to be, I avoided reality, particularly the uncomfortable reality of being an overly sensitive, self-conscious little mouse of a person. Booze loosened me up, helped me to pretend I was anyone other than me.
Sobriety, hard work and middle age have hewed me into a closer version of the me I was meant to become all those years and bottles ago. I am driven less by impulse and more by choice. I'm not afraid to speak up, but I've also learned the value of keeping silent.
Some traits I once aspired to I now recognize will never be mine. Pretending, or getting drunk and pretending, won't make me graceful, glamorous or gorgeous. Being sober allows me the freedom to be funny, tenderhearted and compassionate. A more than fair trade.
It's good to hear those medallions jingling gently in my pocket. I still need that daily reminder that being my true self is an obligation of my sobriety ... and one of its greatest rewards.

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