The Dating Arena in 2023 is a Guarantee You’ll Get Hurt. Can you handle that?

“How do I know if I’m ready to date? I don’t want to get hurt.”

If you are stepping into the dating arena in 2023 as a person in recovery, I want to go ahead and hit you with the news that you getting hurt is a guarantee.

Someone will disappoint you, piss you off, or trigger some age-old insecurities about yourself you may have thought you got over. This truth isn’t limited to the idiots you may encounter. Even people with the best intentions for you who may be a good fit for you will, at a certain point, cause an emotional disturbance for you.

So, if you want companionship, step one is to accept that there will be pain in seeking it.

When I dated in early recovery, I made two mistakes.

  1. I falsely believed the person I was with would never hurt me.
  2. I was too early on in this recovery work and too unsteady to handle the pain that eventually did come. So when my heart broke, my attempts at sobriety shattered right along with it, leaving me to do a hell of a ton of picking up the pieces.

So, if you want to ask yourself if you’re ready to jump into the dating arena and look for companionship, first, you must accept that there WILL be times when connecting with others romantically will challenge you. Dating can be fun, AND you will still get your feelings hurt. If you have decided you want a partner, you have to be ready to take the risks that come with it.

Hurt, sadness, disappointment, and anger are all part of the human experience. Welcome to your human life.

So, what happens when you take the risk and get ghosted, or someone tells you they had a drunk mom and aren’t looking for someone with a prior complicated past with alcohol?

You might question everything about you, including your sobriety. The inner critic inside your head might say, No one is EVER going to want to be with you now that you’re sober. If you haven’t built a strong foundation for yourself or adopted tools to help you through hard moments like these, you may start to believe that inner critic to the point you drink to quiet the voice. To drown it out.

​After the heartbreak after the loss of my prior partner, I committed to not dating seriously until I could trust myself to handle pain and not drink over it.

​Once I started looking for a partner, however, I suited up and showed up, knowing that disappointment wouldn’t kill me, neither could rejection nor mixed messages. Would these feelings hurt? Hell yea. But they couldn’t harm me. I was safe.

​I am safe.

​Do I know that my current partner will never break my heart? No. I have no guarantee of that. What I do know, however, is that anything could happen with him, and I don’t have to drink over it.

​My work on myself, the tools I utilize to cope, and the people in my circle have given me a safe place to land. So, if I ever were to hit a place of emotional devastation, drinking doesn’t have to be my way to handle it.

​In closing, if you’re thinking about dating, ask yourself these questions:

  1. Am I ready to feel the discomfort of a range of challenging emotions because people are not perfect and dating requires me to meet new imperfect people?
  2. Am I equipped to handle the range of challenging emotions that may accompany this journey without drinking?

If your answer is yes, happy dating AND you should check out life coaching with me so I can work you to navigate that lovely journey I’m all too familiar with. You can schedule a free coaching consultation here!



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Feelings Aren’t Facts: A New Year’s Eve Self-Forgiveness Workshop. December 31st. Register here.

Podcast Listen to the Bottomless to Sober Podcast. Episodes 1-29 are live!

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Tough Decisions I Made to Save My Life In Recovery

Dasha Kennedy, a financial educator known on Instagram as @thebrokeblackgirl, recently shared a list of tough financial decisions she had to make that saved her life. Her list inspired me to create a list of my own tough decisions I had to make to save my life via being in recovery. 

Here is that list:

  • I sold the house I was super proud of buying all on my own in Louisville, KY., and moved into the guestroom of my sister’s home in Tampa, FL. Giving up the house meant letting go of the independence I had been proud of achieving post-divorce in 2017. I was raised to be “strong” and not dependent on others. Moving in with my sister also gave me the safety of leaning on people who loved me and would encourage my recovery.
  • I quit my job as a teacher in a school I loved that was part of a community I felt great joy in being involved in, where I had gotten recognized as a Teacher of the Year for my work. I worked as an entry-level salesperson at an online tutoring company instead. To be named Teacher of the Year and walk away from a space where I felt loved and respected was hard, but it was on my terms. I had a choice: face the hard of losing my job because of a circumstance I could have avoided, or face the hard of being proactive and walking away because it was no longer sustainable. 
  • When I started dating again, I made it a priority to discuss my recovery from addiction very early on with the men I met, even if it felt uncomfortable. I knew that any man worth building a long-term relationship with would not view my recovery as a liability but rather as an asset. I wanted to repel people who wouldn’t meet that expectation quickly.
  • I accepted medical assistance and used medication for the first 1.5 years of my recovery. I let go of the idea that “I can do this by myself” and accepted that a licensed medical doctor could help me do what had felt like impossible work.
  • I talked about my story and fully accepted that I had been secretly addicted to alcohol for years. A huge thing that kept me drinking was being trapped by shame. Shame kept me thinking I was unworthy of connection, so I didn’t talk about my problem with alcohol to anyone for fear of judgment. Once I connected with others, I realized I was not alone, and it wasn’t just me.
  • I made time in my schedule to show up for my recovery. If I had made the time to drink, I could make the time to show up for my recovery, whether that meant meetings, therapy, or working with mentors.
  • I assessed my spending habits and put myself on a serious budget. I became dependent on food delivery services during my active addiction because I didn’t want to burn the house down by falling asleep while cooking. I was in debt and started learning about financial literacy to get my money in order.
  • I stopped telling myself I was bored when things were quiet—I experienced a lot of drama as a result of my drinking, so when things got calmer, I kept looking for something to scratch the drama itch. 
  • I accepted that I wasn’t behind and embraced that I was where I was supposed to be. I gave up my home and a job I was passionate about to get sober. I can work toward a new home or change my work any time, but my life is the only one I have. 

What are some tough decisions you have made to save yourself? Are there some decisions you know you need to make and are stalling on? 


Upcoming Opportunities

Life Coaching Schedule a free coaching consultation here!

Free Writing for Healing Workshop. December 24th Register here.

Feelings Aren’t Facts: A New Year’s Eve Self-Forgiveness Workshop. December 31st. Register here

Podcast Listen to the Bottomless to Sober Podcast. Episodes 1-29 are live!

Six-Week Writing for Healing Program. Starts January 6th. Register here.

Rehab Snapshots

I really wish I had a camera was a thought that lived in my mind the entire time I was at one of the treatment facilities I stayed at in 2020. 

I spent five weeks in this facility, and though my memory of my arrival there is spotty, there are several snapshot moments of this experience I hope I never forget. 

This is one of them. 

“Karaoke? Here in a rehab? No way. You’ve gotta be kidding me.” I laughed while chatting with my friend Andy. Andy is this massive 6’5″ radiant personality I still get to text with to this day. We were in line for lunch at the cafeteria after finishing one of our group therapy sessions. There were eager murmurs among fellow residents that one of the staff members said she would bring in a mic and speaker set if we, the people who miraculously hadn’t killed themselves in recent weeks, were willing to do karaoke during her shift supervising us on Friday night.

It was early summer in 2020. After flipping my car upside down on Bardstown Road in Louisville, KY, I ended up in this treatment facility. The idea of going from barely wanting to be alive to singing into a mic in front of other people without a single drop of alcohol in my body was wild. I mean, I had to be locked away in a treatment facility because I couldn’t bring myself to stop drinking safely. Now, these people want to get me to sing along to a song on a microphone? 

So many thoughts ran through my mind in response to this idea: What if I’m not fun to others and I just bore them? I’m not good enough to get up in front of others and just be. I like my singing voice, but I’m scared it’s not good enough to be a strong voice and that I can’t be silly enough to be comically bad for karaoke. Is there even such a thing as fun without alcohol? I’d like to watch others try. I love karaoke, but me? Sober? I’ll have to pass.

As we sat down to eat, Danielle, the staff member the buzz was about, approached our table. As usual, she was beaming, “Did y’all hear about karaoke on Friday? You ready, Jess?” She looked me in the eyes and smiled, which slowed the racing panic of my detoxing brain.

Danielle always put me at ease because her lived experience instilled hope that this repetitive cycle I found myself in would one day stop. In Drowning in Shallow Water: Chapter 1, I share how I learned that Danielle had also lost her partner to a drug overdose. Despite this loss, she was sober and working with others. Danielle gave me hope that I could find joy and love after losing my boyfriend, Ian. Her lived experience and confidence in how she conducted herself made me think, Maybe I can try this karaoke thing on Friday night. 

I turned my face to Danielle, smiled while hesitantly shrugging my shoulders, and said, “I really don’t want to do it, but since you’re putting it together, Danielle, I’ll try it.” 

“You won’t regret this, Jess!” Danielle declared.

And dammit, she was right.

On Friday night, Danielle came in for her shift. She decorated the residential lounge area, turned the overhead lights off, and connected her karaoke machine to her phone. As the music started playing and I felt the bass of the music vibrate a little bit, the sensory experiences began to take me back. The thumping with the darkness and the flashing lights from the machine took me back to being at a bar or club. 

But I wasn’t at the club. I was in treatment

One of the younger residents, Elly, got up to do a song. In our therapy groups, she was often disengaged and rarely used her voice. I assumed she did not want to take up space, so I remember my curiosity when I saw her awkwardly standing before us, her hand on the mic and the other on her hip. We waited for what felt like ages, and then the words came. Elly took a deep breath, closed her eyes, gripped the microphone with both hands and came to life. 

I wish I could remember the song, but I don’t. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. What mattered was that Elly was freed beyond the walls of the treatment facility in those few moments. As she danced and performed as if she was on stage somewhere else, I elbowed Andy next to me, and I held up my hands as though I was holding up a real camera and took a snapshot of Elly. 

So, what happened afterward? 

After letting herself be seen, Elly started to speak up more in groups. And me? I did eventually sing, too, just not on that day. 🙂

On the left, me doing karaoke in my active addiction. On the right, karaoke sober.

Want to write your OWN story? My LAST Six-Week Writing to Heal Program for 2023 starts tomorrow, September 30th!

Register here for the following dates:

Meeting Dates: Saturdays from 11-12 ET

  • September 30th 
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  • October 14th
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Upcoming Opportunities

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Schedule a free coaching consultation here!

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Free Support Group for Educators. October 19th. Register here.

They did the best they could with what they had, and other thoughts on my parents.

“They did the best they could with what they had” is something I often say, referencing my parents when telling my story.

Jessica with her parents. Age 11 months.
With my parents, age 11 months. Brooklyn.

Often, there is this narrative that immigrants only want their kids to enter high-paying professions, to become doctors or lawyers.

In my parents’ case, this was not true.

I’ve wanted to be a teacher since kindergarten when Ms. Youssef helped ease my daily crying about being around a bunch of strange kids. Then, my high school teachers and mentors, Mr. Bailey, Ms. Frosch, Mr. Goden, Sra. Pimentel, and Ms. Murphy, inspired me to want to help others find their lightbulb moments while feeling wrapped in warmth and acceptance.

My dad in his older years by a pool wearing a bright green towel and my mom's hat.
My dad in his later years in Costa Rica.

I grew to love my teachers, and when I told my parents that I wanted to grow up to help others learn, my parents proudly encouraged me. When I was getting ready to graduate from high school, Papi joined a group of other dads singing to students at a senior parent event. He fumbled through the words, but he didn’t care. Papi beamed at me, though he didn’t know or understand a single word of what he was singing along to because it was in English and he only spoke Spanish. He was just proud to be there for me as I got ready to go to college to pursue the education he had worked so hard for me to get.

My parents never pressured me into any career path. They wanted me to have an education and a better life than they had in Cuba (dad) and Costa Rica (mom).

They wanted me to be happy.

After getting an email from a new student in my Writing to Heal Program (which starts on Saturday, 9/30!) where the student stated, “Thank you, and please say thanks to your parents for having a wonderful, ambitious, smart child who gives it all away, from me.” I called my mom and translated the message.

Her response, “Claro que si!” (hahaha!)

Jessica as a little girl in the kitchen with her mom.
With my mom in Brooklyn.

I am so grateful that today, I have a safe, stable, and happy life that my parents fought hard for me to have. I’m also thankful to have returned to helping others find their lightbulb moments through teaching and coaching.

My teaching today is not how I initially envisioned this role, as I went from working with middle schoolers to working with either college students or adults on their healing journeys. Still, like my mother always says, “Uno pone y Dios dispone,” meaning we can have one plan, and God can have another. Ultimately, things always work out.


Some of the wounds I have worked on healing come directly from my history with my parents, and yes, much of my success today is due to the work I have had to do on my own to get my addiction to alcohol in order.

Jessica's parents in their older age hugging, smiling, and laughing.
My parents in their home in Costa Rica (they left the US in 2016).

Multiple truths can be true, and the email from my incoming student was a beautiful reminder that I needed. My parents saw my love for working with others early on, and it was a light they did not dare put out. My parents did their best with what they had and did a damn good job trying.


Upcoming Opportunities

Six-Week Writing to Heal Program. Last one for 2023! Starts September 30th at 11 AM. Register here.

Schedule a free coaching consultation here!

Listen to the Bottomless to Sober Podcast. Episodes 1-22 are live!

Free Support Group for Educators. October 19th. Register here.

“I wouldn’t think a woman your age would have no kids,” and other statements that sting

“Wow, that’s different. I wouldn’t think a woman your age would have no kids,” said one of the fellow Mobilize Recovery participants I was sitting with after telling her I don’t have children.

I felt my heart race and my body go into a bit of a panic as I quickly fell into an old pattern of justifying my current circumstances.

I rambled, “Uh, well, you know, all those years that I drank, I worried about getting pregnant. I didn’t have the right partner. I didn’t want to have to change my drinking for someone else…” and honestly the list goes on of how I vomited at the mouth to try and defend my position as a woman with no children today.

I wish I had said, “Why does it matter to you if I have kids or not?” or “What are you making it mean that I, as a 38-year-old woman, don’t have children?”

But I didn’t.

And you know what, at this point, I’m better off asking myself these questions because she’s moved on with her life, and I’m still sitting here reflecting on this moment. I need to acknowledge, like Don Miguel Ruiz so often shares, if something in that woman’s words hurt me, it’s because she happened to touch on a wound that I already carry. So, what I need to do here isn’t worry about her remarks but pause, look at this, and ask myself what I need to learn about myself from this incident that disturbed me.

So with that:

Why does it matter to you, Jessica, if you have kids? And what are you making it mean that you, as a 38-year-old woman, don’t have children? As part of my socialization, I was taught that having a child is, in a sense, the pinnacle of womanhood and a necessary life experience. As a 38-year-old, when I look at society and lean on these external beliefs that I was given, I can quickly feel that I’m “behind” and that I haven’t “checked off all the boxes” of what a woman’s experience “should” be like.

And there it is, that word “should.

That dangerous word that many times I shamed myself with and drank over. Anytime the word “should” comes out, that’s a sign that I need to evaluate the validity of my thoughts. It’s okay for me not to have kids today. It’s also okay for me to want children. However, having them or not does not make my life any more or less “complete,” and it certainly doesn’t take away from my lived experience as a woman.

So the next time someone makes a statement toward you that stings, if “don’t take it personally” doesn’t work for you at that moment, get curious and ask yourself:

  1. What can I learn about myself from this incident?
  2. Why does this statement bother me?
  3. What am I making this mean about myself, and is it even true for me or is it true by an external standard?

Upcoming Opportunities

Schedule a free consultation ​here​!

Listen to the ​Bottomless to Sober Podcast​. Episodes 1-21 are live!

Free Writing to Heal Workshop. Last one for 2023! September 23, 11 AM-1 PM ET. Register ​here​.

Six-Week Writing to Heal Program. Last one for 2023! Starts September 30th at 11 AM. Register ​here​.

Free Support Group for Educators. October 19th. Register ​here​.

Self-Sabotaging

“SELF-SABOTAGE COMES FROM WHAT’S UNFAMILIAR

Human beings experience a natural resistance to the unknown, because it is essentially the ultimate loss of control. This is true even if what’s “unknown” is benevolent or even beneficial to us.

Self-sabotage is very often the simple product of unfamiliarity, and it is because anything that is foreign, no matter how good, will also be uncomfortable until it is also familiar. This often leads people to confuse the discomfort of the unknown with being “wrong” or “bad” or “ominous.” However, it is simply a matter of psychological adjustment…

We are programmed to seek what we’ve known. Even though we think we’re after happiness, we’re actually trying to find whatever we’re most used to.”

From pages 17-18 of The Mountain Is You by Brianna Wiest 

I’ve referenced this passage in about three different conversations in the last 24 hours, so I figure it’s a sign that I should go ahead and share it in an email, too.

Sometimes, we have a friend, or another loved one who makes decisions that we don’t believe are in their best interest. For example, after infidelity in what is supposed to be a monogamous relationship, we may see our loved one choose to take the individual who betrayed them back. In our minds, we might be thinking, “What the f*ck are you doing? You deserve so much better!” And as a result, we get angry and disappointed. We’re basically taking it personally that our loved one did not choose what we thought was best for them. 

Here’s a reminder. First, nothing other people do is because of you, ever. You may be the most supportive friend, and you may have all the evidence in the world as to why your friend may want to leave a job or partner who doesn’t treat them well, but let me offer you the idea of putting yourself in their shoes first while keeping this passage I quoted in mind. Especially that last line, “We are programmed to seek what we’ve known. Even though we think we’re after happiness, we’re actually trying to find whatever we’re most used to.”

So to you, it may be frustrating to see a loved one continue to drink, continue to go back to a workplace that treats them like garbage, or stay in a relationship where they are not valued or respected, but remember that to them, the idea of something unknown may be more terrifying than their current situation. You know that saying, “Choose your hard?” Everyone has to do just that: choose their hard. For some, choosing the hard of what is familiar may be all they can handle rather than opting for the challenge of diving into the unknown. 

It’s not up to us, and it’s not up to you.

The second thing I wanted to do regarding this passage is to invite you to do some self-reflection work. Take a few minutes and think on or journal these questions after re-reading the passage: 

What is a familiar pattern you keep diving back into because you’re scared of what might happen if you enter unknown territory?

What do you think is the worst that could happen in this unknown realm? Seriously, what’s the worst that could happen? ANNNND, so what if it did

What is the worst that could come from you staying in the pattern you are in today, from staying in the familiar? Compare this “familiar” worst-thing-that-could-happen to your “imagined” worst-thing-that-could-happen from diving into the unknown. What do you notice?

Feel free to write back and let me know! Have a great rest of your week, and if you want to have these conversations 1:1, please note that I am open to taking new coaching clients again as of this month, so sign up for a free consultation here! https://www.bottomlesstosober.com/coaching-services/

Upcoming Opportunities

Schedule a free coaching consultation here!

Listen to the Bottomless to Sober Podcast. Episodes 1-16 are live!

Free Writing to Heal Workshop. Last one for 2023! September 23, 11 AM-1 PM ET. Register here.

Six-Week Writing to Heal Program. Last one for 2023! Starts September 30th at 11 AM. Register here.

Free Support Group for Educators. October 19th. Register here.

I couldn’t do this for you. It was work you had to do for yourself.

“How was I going to explain this to Mami?

You see someone on a train track. You see the train is coming, and that person just will not get out of the way.

No matter what you do.

You can’t pull them off. You can’t push them off. All you want to do is get them out of harm’s way, but you can’t. It’s hard to watch. You want to make them better. Stop the hurt. Me, being your older sister, being in that second mom role, made that hard.

It’s difficult letting someone you love go through that process, but I had to accept that I couldn’t do this for you. It was work you had to do for yourself.” 

Sofia Dueñas

I interviewed my sister, Sofia, on her experiences dealing with me while in my active addiction for episode 10 of Bottomless to Sober, the podcast. I wanted to pull this line out and discuss it in a greater context: I had to accept that I couldn’t do this for you. It was work you had to do for yourself.

Two and a half years into this new life I live, as I listened to my sister’s words, two questions came up for me for self-reflection, which I’m sharing with you in case you find them helpful:

  1. What do I want for myself that I keep waiting on some external force to accomplish?
  2. Is there something I continue to try to do for others that they really should be doing for themselves? 

I’ll pick question one to reflect on here:

What do I want for myself that I keep waiting on some external force to accomplish?

I started a book, a non-fiction self-help/memoir hybrid. I wanted to finish it, but I had been waiting to get picked up by an agent and a publisher. In my mind, I told myself the story that that is the only good reason to finish a book. I had gotten TONS of rejections from agents with no feedback and had stopped working on my book because I felt discouraged. Then, recently, I had a kind book agent who corresponded with me and gave me valuable feedback. 

She enjoyed what I presented and encouraged me to consider self-publishing because her inside scoop is that publishers are looking for people with longer-term sobriety if you aren’t strictly writing a memoir. After reading the email from the agent and reflecting on my sister’s statement, “I couldn’t do this for you. It was work you had to do for yourself.” I realize that I don’t need an agent to write a book. I don’t need a publisher. I don’t need anyone’s validation to finish what I started. I just need to finish what I started. So I’m formally declaring that I will refocus on writing my book! How it gets published isn’t relevant, the point is that it gets done.

So back to you, start the week with these questions:

  1. What do you want for yourself that you keep waiting on some external force to accomplish?
  2. Is there something you continue to try to do for others that they really should be doing for themselves? 

Updates and Opportunities:

Listen to the Bottomless to Sober Podcast. Episodes 1-10 are live!

1:1 coaching is open. Schedule a free consultation here.

Free Support Group for Educators. August 3rd. Register here.

Free Writing to Heal Workshop. September 23, 11-1 PM ET. Register here.

What’s the real perk of a life lived without alcohol?

You can read me a list of all the perks that come from a life lived without alcohol, but the greatest perk for me is that I have a life to live in the first place.

​Johns Hopkins defines​ the three stages of alcoholic liver disease as fatty liver, alcoholic hepatitis, and cirrhosis. Life expectancy after a cirrhosis diagnosis can be between two to twelve years.

Take your age today and add twelve years.

What age does that give you? It’s scary, isn’t it?

When I was diagnosed with stage two alcoholic liver disease, alcoholic hepatitis, in 2019, I was quickly moving toward cirrhosis. If I hadn’t stopped drinking, I doubt I would still be here in 2023.

So yes, there are many benefits to living a sober life. Still, the most significant advantage of the sober life is the existence of a life not cut abruptly short.

For example, this weekend was incredibly frustrating because I worked really hard to get my writing workshop ready to go, and had over 120 folks registered (the largest group I ever had), only for there to be an issue with my passcode on Zoom, so my attendance was affected. Yes, I was bummed, so I allowed myself to feel the disappointment, but then I remembered to shift my perspective.

I must always remind myself that even a tough day is a blessing because if you look at how I drank and my liver condition back then, I “shouldn’t” be here. But here I am, showing addiction that we do recover, and picking myself up after this disappointment to dust off my shoulders and invite you to join me this week for either of these fantastic upcoming opportunities:

  • Learn to tell your story in my Six-Week Writing to Heal Program, which starts July 15th! This is seriously life-changing work. ​Register here​.
  • How are you feeling about your progress this year, really? Let’s discuss it at the Mid Year Check to ensure you’re good for the rest of 2023. This will be a powerful collaboration between Dr. Diane Marie and myself on July 16th! ​Register here​.

Other resources:

  • Catch up on my new podcast! Episode links are available ​here​.
  • Learn more about the increasing rates alcoholic liver disease among women ​here​.

Thank you all, and I hope you have a solid start to your week.

My Mother’s Love Language

“When I was married and needed a new car after a wreck, my ex didn’t want me to purchase it. I felt so stuck, controlled, and frustrated. When I called my mom crying, she said, ‘Te mando algo de dinero para que puedas comprarte algo.’ (I’ll send you some money so you can get yourself something.) She empowered me to get a car without my ex-husband’s permission,” I told my boyfriend over lunch at the airport.

My sister added, “No matter how grown we are, our mom has had our backs. She’s the most generous person I know. It’s like her generosity is her love language. She’s not mushy, but if she loves you, she’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” 

In the recovery/wellness world, I’m guilty of being the first one in a conversation or in a meeting to chime in on ways that my childhood impacted me and played a part in my addiction to alcohol as well as my challenges with body image and food. 

While having this conversation with my sister and boyfriend waiting to board our next flight to go to Costa Rica to see my mother, I realized two things in the middle of our conversation:

One, I am exactly like my mother. 

Two, that is a beautiful thing. 

Now, anyone who has heard me speak and share my story knows that when I talk about my parents, I always share, “They did the best they could with what they had,” which implies that they tried their best, and yes, there was still some harm done. 

Sharing that I am just like my mother doesn’t negate either of those statements. 

However, from this conversation, I wanted to invite myself to open up to this alternative thought, “I am just like her, and it’s a good thing.” It’s a thought that I realize that I owe to myself, future me, and even to little girl me. I deserve to welcome an occasional pause from the mental labor of constantly identifying which generational cycles I need to break and, in turn, point out a few patterns I have inherited from my mother and will continue to embrace. These are the gifts from my mother that I see in me: 

  1. She’s generous. As I said before, from helping me with a car to my home, books as a kid, and anything I ever needed regarding a roof over my head and financial safety, she’s ensured I could have it. She grew up living in poverty in Costa Rica and worked so hard as an immigrant in the US. Her mission was to guarantee that her children didn’t struggle as she did. If she could take the shirt off her back for me or anyone in need, she would. You need something, and I have it? Let me share it with you. <3 
  2. She’s so bright. My mother has always been excellent with numbers and budgeting, especially when she and my dad were small business owners in Brooklyn. They could save, buy the house I grew up in, and travel. Her mental math matches any whiz kid I have ever taught, and the more I learn about numbers since starting my own business, the more I realize that I have my mother’s strong number sense. 
  3. She’s fiercely loyal to the people she’s close to and doesn’t care to force relationships. The few people in her circle are IN HER CIRCLE. I used to want to push myself to have more friends and maintain all sorts of relationships with extended family, but now, I embrace the few intimate relationships I have as gifts to nurture. I am confident in who I have connected with because I trust there is a reason they are in my life. 

If you’re reading this and have a complex relationship with a parent or guardian, I invite you to look at the positive things you’ve inherited from them IF you are open to that. If changing your perspective, even temporarily, will put you at risk of disregulating yourself, don’t. But if you are open to this shift in perspective, even as part of an exercise, ask yourself to reflect on these things:

  1. What traits does this person have that are helpful to others?
  2. What qualities does this person have that lit them up?
  3. How do any of these traits show up in you?
  4. How does recognizing these traits in yourself make you feel? 
  5. How can you continue to nurture these qualities about yourself? 

I’m go grateful to have had this opportunity to reflect before getting on my next flight. Sending you warm love.


Upcoming Opportunities:

Free Writing for Healing Workshop. July 8th. Register here.

Six-Week Writing for Healing Program. July 15th. Register here.

Summer Soul Mid-Year Check In: How Are We, Really? July 16th. Register here.

Free Support Group for Educators. August 3rd. Register here.

Coaching 1:1 is open. Schedule a free consultation here.

If you don’t have your own back, who will?

“The term good enough comes from the psychological concept of “the Good Enough mother,” which was coined by Dr. Donald Winnicott, an English pediatrician and psychoanalyst. This concept proposes that the role of a parent is to provide their child With a background environment that allows the child to develop the ability to tolerate their own distress…
Coming from Good Enough means that you acknowledge your humanity and give yourself the generosity that you would extend to others. You trust that the people you care about can tolerate small discomforts and mistakes.
Here’s what coming from Good Enough means to me:
-I am okay with making mistakes. (I don’t need to listen to the cruel voice in my head.)
-I am not defined by being selfish or selfless. (I am allowed to consider myself along with those who I care about when I make decisions.)
-I can extend the compassion I give to others to myself. (I believe that we all deserve compassion, myself included.)
As you practice Good Enough ask yourself:
-How does my fear of being selfish prevent me from accessing
Good Enough?
-What are the costs (physical, emotional, spiritual) of being selfless?
-In which areas of my life do I feel most convinced of being Good Enough? 
-Can I bring the conviction that I am Good Enough to other areas of my life, in which I am less certain of my inherent Good Enough quality?
You are the only one who can give yourself the permission of starting from Good Enough. Be careful about getting caught up in wishful thinking that other people in your life will gift you this skill; self-compassion cannot be air-dropped–you have to build it yourself. By cultivating a mindset of Good Enough, you will naturally bring more compassion into your internal narrative.”

Selected parts from Real Self-Care by Dr. Pooja Lakshmin, pages 140-142

I shared this quote with several spaces in the sober community this week. This excerpt resonated with me because I had to apply a boundary in my personal life, and as the author states, even though I’m not a mother, and the person I was setting a limit with is not a child, I had to believe in this person’s ability to handle the distress from the disappointment as a result of the boundary. I had to trust the process because in trusting the process of setting a boundary, I’m inherently trusting myself to make the right decisions to protect my mental health and sobriety. 

Hard decisions lead to the results we seek in our recovery, and we aren’t getting there by people-pleasing. Saying no to someone you love now is better than becoming resentful over a yes that should have been a no. 

If you have a boundary that you need to set with someone and the idea makes you want to go throw up, consider this:

  1. Trust that the disappointment they will feel will not kill them. Yes, we, as lovely humans, don’t handle negative emotions well. However, they are a part of the human experience, and in the same way that we allow kids to be disappointed by telling them “no,” and time and time again, they move on, so will the adults in our lives who we say no to. 
  2. Ask yourself: What do you stand to lose by saying yes to something you don’t want to do? If you are a person in recovery, this is a critical question to ask yourself. Is it worth risking a slip? 
  3. Remind yourself that if you don’t have your own back, who will? As much as others love us, our responsibility to protect and nurture ourselves ultimately falls back on us. 

Upcoming Opportunities:

Free Writing for Healing Workshop. July 8th. Register here.

Six-Week Writing for Healing Program. July 15th. Register here.

Summer Soul Mid-Year Check In: How Are We, Really? July 16th. Register here.

Free Support Group for Educators. August 3rd. Register here.

Coaching 1:1 is open. Schedule a free consultation here.