There is something insanely courageous when you surrender. It doesn’t mean you are weak or a quitter. It means that you acknowledge that what you are doing isn’t working and you are ready to do something different. It is the opportunity to get vulnerable and strip the pretense that all is well. It is messy. It is difficult. You are going to feel like crap and wonder why the hell you surrendered in the first place. But then, there is a light. A beautiful, peaceful light that frees you from prison of denial that kept you hostage. I can say this because I lived it.
When I admitted that I was powerless over Brian’s drinking, it was the first time I ever surrendered to anything. I gave up the illusion that I was his higher power and owned that I was equally apart of the problem. The process of getting real with myself was not an overnight exercise. This metamorphosis has taken fifteen years and it still occurring. It is the peeling of layers. Layers that served as a protective armor that no longer serves a purpose. I had been deeply affected by another person’s drinking even before I met Brian. Alcoholism is a family disease and for me, it goes back to my childhood.
Now, finding my truth has been a journey of ups and downs, but the result is that I am leading a life full of bliss. I don’t do it perfect. There are days, were it is a shit show, but I can rein it back in and start over with a healthier approach. Everything is more vibrant. I am more present. I am mindful of not projecting into the future and I am trusting the process of God’s plan. Fear is replaced with faith. I showed up and I walked through a lot of pain. Most of it was my own doing in an effort to survive. My life isn’t perfect, but it is better than it was before I surrendered. I am a survivor.