Yes and No

Finding Balance

In recovery I learned that fear-based no and guilt-based yes are both extremes. Healthy boundaries mean saying what I truly mean.

Let your Yes be Yes, and your No, No. Matthew 5:37

Before recovery I said no to everything. No was my first response. I was a no person. I did not open myself up to invitations. I did not try new things. I stayed guarded. In recovery I began to say yes, but before that, no was how I survived. Why did I say no all the time? I took an honest inventory, and I saw it again. That old character flaw. Not being good enough. I was afraid that if I said yes or opened myself up to an invitation, I would be rejected. And why would I purposely subject myself to that? Growing up in an alcoholic home, I developed survival traits. Those traits kept me safe. But they also kept everyone out. I couldn’t trust anyone. I did not take things at face value. I did not give others the benefit of the doubt. I assumed I would be hurt or let down if I did. So I said no. And I only said yes when I was in control. That was the vicious cycle I lived in. And I never even considered there was another way.

In recovery I began to say yes. Yes to invitations. Yes to new people. Yes to new experiences. Yes to meetings. Yes to service work. Yes to life. And when I started saying yes, I experienced things I had never experienced before. I made new friends. I went new places. I was becoming a different person and I liked it. I began to identify my emotions and appreciate them. Saying yes was good for me. It helped me grow. It helped me soar even. But then I started learning about boundaries. And I realized that as much as I needed to say yes, there were times I needed to say no as well. In recovery, I am learning that I don’t have to stay in either extreme.

It was such an odd paradigm shift and paradox. Before recovery I never said yes. Always no. But in recovery I began saying yes every time, even when I meant no. I said yes when I meant no because I felt guilty and afraid. I liked my new life. I liked how I was growing. I did not want to regress back to my old life. And so I overcorrected. I went from fear-based no to guilt-based yes. I was confused and tired.

I am grateful for my friends in recovery and my sponsor who helped me stay centered and grounded. They taught me that yes and no are both healthy boundaries. Neither is good or bad in itself. Accepting invitations and new adventures is exciting and invigorating. Saying no kept me safe, but it did not lead to growth or learning anything new. Saying no out of fear left me stagnant and alone. Saying yes out of guilt left me exhausted and resentful. Working through the Steps is teaching me balance. I am learning to say yes when I mean yes and to say no when I mean no. When I do, I am able to live a well-rounded life without guilt and fear.

Prayer

Father, help me say yes when I mean yes and no when I mean no. Take away the fear and guilt of my past. Teach me how to consistently practice balance in my recovery. Thank You for helping me. Amen.

Only a Symptom

Usually what shows up on the surface isn’t the real issue.

Looking Beneath the Behavior

Be sure you live out the message and do not merely listen to it, deceiving yourselves.
James 1:22

I was reading in the Big Book and something jumped out at me: Alcohol is but a symptom. So, we must get down to causes and conditions. It landed pretty hard. Harder than I would have thought. I started to think and ask myself how does this apply to me as a codependent. If alcohol is merely a symptom, what in my life is only a symptom? What am I reacting to? What behaviors keep showing up that I don’t like? What am I doing that is hurting me or others, and do I keep repeating it? Those are the things I need to look closer at. I started asking what those behaviors might be pointing to. What causes and conditions are underneath them?

I realized that is what a Fourth Step inventory is for, and why it is so important. It helps me look honestly at why I do what I do and why I feel the way I feel. Those behaviors aren’t random, and they aren’t the real problem. They are patterns rising up from hurt and pain that I never learned how to deal with. I also read that my troubles are mostly of my own making. That tells me my best thinking got me here. I did not cause everything that happened to me or the pain that shaped these behaviors, but it is up to me to do something about them if I want things to change. I need healing and renewal if I want to live and act differently.

That healing and renewal is something only God can do, but I need to ask for His help. I have to humble myself to God, surrender my will to Him, and ask for His guidance to walk me through the process. I also have a part, my part, and that means I have to take action. I am learning that renewal does not happen automatically through awareness alone. It emerges as I walk through the process of working the steps. This shows up as I write honestly, tell the truth to others, and keep listening and being vulnerable.

As I do my part, God does what only He can do. That’s recovery. Because it is in the doing that my transformation and healing become real. Step work helps me see my hurt and pain, it helps me see my part, it helps me surrender to God, it helps me make amends, and it helps me heal. That is the gift of recovery to me.

Prayer
God, thank You for showing me that my behavior is often a symptom of something deeper. Help me look honestly at my patterns and not turn away from what I find. I surrender my will to You today and ask for Your guidance. Give me the courage to do the work that leads to real and lasting change. Amen.

Addicted to Being Right

A fool thinks he is right, but a wise person listens to others. Proverbs 12:15

I had an aha moment after an argument with my wife. Her version of what happened was not accurate. The facts, the details, and even the way she described my motives and inner responses did not line up with what actually occurred. I was being told what I felt, and it was not true. Because of that, I dismissed everything she was saying. I told myself that if the facts were wrong, then her reaction must be her responsibility. I focused on correcting details instead of acknowledging that she was hurt. Once accuracy was in question, I stopped listening to anything else.

As I prayed, journaled, and tried to find my part, I kept coming up empty. That was unusual for me because I am normally able to see it. I even made a list of probable options, which is something I do when I am stuck. The possibilities ranged from extreme to reasonable. Maybe she was completely wrong. Maybe I was missing something obvious. Maybe past trauma was being triggered. Maybe something I said landed harder than I intended. I did recognize one comment I made that was harsh, and I apologized for it immediately. But days later, there was still distance between us, and none of my reasoning fully explained why.

I was doing some step work, and that is when I saw it. I was addicted to being right. That was my part. I was so focused on accuracy or details that I could not be present with her hurt. Being right mattered more to me than trying to understand. I kept looking for my part in the event itself, when my part was actually in how I responded to what she said. Even though I did not do what I was being accused of, my defensiveness and dismissiveness created more distance. The problem was not the facts. The problem was me and how I reacted.

My awareness came by humbling myself to God and following the prescription that recovery offers. That meant I had to stop defending myself and ask God to show me what I could not see. He did. God is faithful that way. It did not come through prayer alone. I had to do something too. I had to put legs to my prayers. I had to write and be honest with myself, and then let that truth sit for a moment. As I did, I began to see how my need to be right had become a form of self-protection and control. My character defects were being triggered, and my insistence on accuracy was just another form of denial. That realization did not excuse my behavior, but it did open the door to change. I cannot always control whether facts are understood, but I am responsible for how I respond. Letting go of my need to be right made room for honesty, connection, and healing.

Prayer

Father God, help me to humble myself and listen to others. Help me hear what they mean, not just the words they are saying. Continue to show me my part in each situation. Give me the courage to change and the power to carry it out. Amen.