In celebration of my first full year sober I wrote this essay. I hope it touches your heart, and opens a floodgate to deep self love and compassion for your individual, gorgeous, journey in life. Love Katie
I Chose Me, Finally.
I sat there, the moment was slow, my belly felt the churning of anxiety, my heart felt the sinking sensation
of defeat, and I realized I have found myself in the leading role of another toxic romantic relationship.
You see, I was married for 9 years to a man who I first believed was one of the kindest, gentlest humans
who I had ever met. I believed I was safe, I believed he loved me, and I believed when things began to
change that it was somehow my fault. This pattern of finding myself at fault is a common thread, one
taught to me by my mother, and my mother’s mother. I believe we, the strong women, all women, want
so badly to see the good in other people that we make it almost impossible in our minds for them to harm
us, and therefore we find a need to internalize blame in order to try and redeem others peoples failing
qualities.
of defeat, and I realized I have found myself in the leading role of another toxic romantic relationship.
You see, I was married for 9 years to a man who I first believed was one of the kindest, gentlest humans
who I had ever met. I believed I was safe, I believed he loved me, and I believed when things began to
change that it was somehow my fault. This pattern of finding myself at fault is a common thread, one
taught to me by my mother, and my mother’s mother. I believe we, the strong women, all women, want
so badly to see the good in other people that we make it almost impossible in our minds for them to harm
us, and therefore we find a need to internalize blame in order to try and redeem others peoples failing
qualities.
When I met my husband, I knew on our first date that he was the man I would marry. I could see myself
living a long beautiful life with him. I fantasized about the beautiful children we would make together,
and the fulfilling life it would be. I played out this fantasy so much that when darkness started to arise in
the relationship, red flags which were more like burning bridges, became background noise to my ever
present image of the perfect life I had seen in my mind. It was during this time that I stopped fully
accepting reality and became much more interested in fiction, because fiction was safe and reality was
not. Little did I realize this is what trauma does to us, this is how we cope.
living a long beautiful life with him. I fantasized about the beautiful children we would make together,
and the fulfilling life it would be. I played out this fantasy so much that when darkness started to arise in
the relationship, red flags which were more like burning bridges, became background noise to my ever
present image of the perfect life I had seen in my mind. It was during this time that I stopped fully
accepting reality and became much more interested in fiction, because fiction was safe and reality was
not. Little did I realize this is what trauma does to us, this is how we cope.
It would be many years of living in this ever evolving fantasy mixed with reality. I learned to be a
professional people pleaser in hopes I could shift the reality more towards my fantasy. If I was a better
person, he would be kinder. If I made the house cleaner, he would be more relaxed. If I was more fit, he
would find me more attractive. If I created a wonderful social life for us, he would have friends. Little
by little, I lost pieces of myself. Like watching the flowers wilting on a rose, trimmed from her stem to
simply enjoy her beauty, I withered without my connection to my essential source, myself.
professional people pleaser in hopes I could shift the reality more towards my fantasy. If I was a better
person, he would be kinder. If I made the house cleaner, he would be more relaxed. If I was more fit, he
would find me more attractive. If I created a wonderful social life for us, he would have friends. Little
by little, I lost pieces of myself. Like watching the flowers wilting on a rose, trimmed from her stem to
simply enjoy her beauty, I withered without my connection to my essential source, myself.
When the marriage ended I remained the wilted rose. Full of shame, left alone with three very young
children, in a Country that was not my own. I began to drink so that the paid didn't always feel so painful.
You see when I pressed the bottle to my lips, oftentimes I would find a smile, a lover, a wild night of
movement and joy and the feeling full aliveness. The next day the aliveness was gone. The lover had left.
The dance was over. It was me, in my pain, in my illusions, full of hopelessness.
children, in a Country that was not my own. I began to drink so that the paid didn't always feel so painful.
You see when I pressed the bottle to my lips, oftentimes I would find a smile, a lover, a wild night of
movement and joy and the feeling full aliveness. The next day the aliveness was gone. The lover had left.
The dance was over. It was me, in my pain, in my illusions, full of hopelessness.
On one particular night of quenched thirst and aimless swaying on the dance floor, he grabbed my
hand. I looked at him, his beautiful dark skin, deep eyes, full lips, strong shoulders and towering
figure. I was butter. That night turned into weeks, then months of laughter and dancing and child like
joy. But then one day, there was a shadow, and that shadow began to grow. I started to see the same
darkness I once had experienced with my ex husband, and I started trying to rationalize evil deeds, again.
I found how I must be at fault, how I deserved this treatment, and ultimately stepped into the same
feelings of unworthiness I had finally escaped. From one lion's mouth to the next, I was gripped by my
jugular. You see, when my heart gets involved, I lose all rationale.
hand. I looked at him, his beautiful dark skin, deep eyes, full lips, strong shoulders and towering
figure. I was butter. That night turned into weeks, then months of laughter and dancing and child like
joy. But then one day, there was a shadow, and that shadow began to grow. I started to see the same
darkness I once had experienced with my ex husband, and I started trying to rationalize evil deeds, again.
I found how I must be at fault, how I deserved this treatment, and ultimately stepped into the same
feelings of unworthiness I had finally escaped. From one lion's mouth to the next, I was gripped by my
jugular. You see, when my heart gets involved, I lose all rationale.
My next move was to run. I began to avoid, block, delete, and yet the lion would find me again. I was
the prey that was bleeding out, leaving a trail for my hunter. A part of me wanted to be hunted and a part
of me wanted to be free. There was something intoxicating his hunt, there was something I craved about
being wanted, even by the exact thing that would kill me. I had to accept that deep down in my being, I
had needed this to happen again. I needed the push to choose a different path, that did not lead me back
to the lions den.
the prey that was bleeding out, leaving a trail for my hunter. A part of me wanted to be hunted and a part
of me wanted to be free. There was something intoxicating his hunt, there was something I craved about
being wanted, even by the exact thing that would kill me. I had to accept that deep down in my being, I
had needed this to happen again. I needed the push to choose a different path, that did not lead me back
to the lions den.
It was a morning in March, after a late night bender of bad decisions and blood poisoning that I looked
in the mirror, at the sweet girl that had her heart broken too many times. I looked at her with so much
love, so much sadness, so much desire to help her change, and I promised her I would not drink again. I
promised her that together we would feel all the feelings that we kept escaping from. I promised her that
this would be the last morning waking up with the headache that claimed the full day in bed, and the
piercing pain of hiding her greatness in bad decisions. This would be the day that self sabotage was no
longer an option. I chose me, finally.
in the mirror, at the sweet girl that had her heart broken too many times. I looked at her with so much
love, so much sadness, so much desire to help her change, and I promised her I would not drink again. I
promised her that together we would feel all the feelings that we kept escaping from. I promised her that
this would be the last morning waking up with the headache that claimed the full day in bed, and the
piercing pain of hiding her greatness in bad decisions. This would be the day that self sabotage was no
longer an option. I chose me, finally.
Katie Vaino March 10 2020
This was beautiful, powerful, and relatable. You have a gift with words, Katie.
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