Self Love: Making Choices

Someone recently asked me, "Who has shown you the most love in your life?" Without hesitation, I answered, "Myself."

Two years ago, I wouldn’t have said the same. At 51, I found myself in the throes of menopause, depressed, struggling to moderate my alcohol consumption, and stuck in a toxic corporate environment and the combination of all of it was damaging my relationship with my husband. I desperately wanted to break out of this cycle, but it wasn’t until I realized that I needed to change myself that I truly began my self-love journey.

During this time, I was also experiencing psychic phenomena—closing my eyes and seeing people, sometimes just standing there, other times floating in and out of my “sight.” I felt what seemed like someone blowing on the back of my neck when no one was around, and I’d hear my name being called, and again, no one was nearby. I once called my Dad, our family historian, and described the people I saw. He told me it was my great-great-great-grandfather on his mother’s side and his wife that I was seeing. I now know these psychic experiences were my ancestors and spirit guides, waking me up from my self-abuse.

I had already begun seeking information about quitting alcohol and experimented with moderation, taking a week or two off here and there. One book that deeply resonated with me was Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing by Matthew Perry. As I listened to his story, I found it relatable—his description of trauma and repetitive patterns struck a chord. His story made me realize that I didn’t want to live like that anymore—the constant hangxiety, depression, and bargaining for that glass of wine after work.

My alcohol abuse had slowly morphed into an addiction, though I didn’t even realize it at first. It crept up on me, especially during COVID and the lockdown, when I started drinking more. After back-to-back meetings managing a 21-person team remotely, with barely time for bathroom breaks, reaching for the box of wine in the fridge became the nightly routine. 

Menopause only made things worse. My body was failing me, the joint pain and body aches, the migraines, the depression to the point where I had times that I wasn’t sure I wanted to be on this earth anymore. My attempts to moderate my drinking failed, leading to painful, triggered outbursts with my husband, blackouts, and waking up with injuries. It was after one particularly difficult moment that I finally admitted I had a problem. I choked on the words as I told Eric that I was going to change, that I was starting therapy, and that I wanted to become a better person and partner. I began therapy that week.

I had it all—a loving husband, a beautiful home in Colorado, a good-paying job, and children who were on their own healing journeys. Yet, I realized that what I wanted most in my relationships—true connection—was out of reach because my alcohol abuse had disconnected me from myself. If I couldn’t connect with myself, how could I connect with my husband or loved ones? I made a promise to myself to change my life.

Even though I had been to therapy many times in my life, not one had ever told me that my struggles were rooted in unresolved trauma. A couple of years ago, after a few therapy sessions, I finally understood why I turned to alcohol and why moderation was so hard. I was numbing unresolved trauma, and after years of relying on alcohol, my brain’s dopamine receptors were damaged, constantly craving more.

Once I understood how toxic alcohol was for my brain, my relationships, and my zest for life, I asked myself: How can I achieve so much—climbing mountains, advancing in my career—yet continue to damage my brain daily? My self-love journey had been stalled at the gate by alcohol, and I realized that to live life to the fullest, I had to stop drinking.

It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be either. There were challenges, especially in those early days—going out to eat with friends, navigating the corporate environment where alcohol was at the center of every engagement—but it was a process of progress over perfection. Non-alcoholic brews and cannabis helped me get through the first 90 days of freedom from alcohol. I was grateful I didn’t need rehab and that my moderation efforts leading up to my decision to quit had helped me avoid serious withdrawal complications.

For me, this was the pivot—the beginning of the plot twist of my life that I didn’t see coming. I hadn’t heard of a “healing journey” before, but as I became sober, the universe opened up and I became more spiritually aware. I didn’t realize how psychic I was or where my path would lead until I quit drinking.

Self-love is self-made. No one could love the alcohol, depression, or trauma out of me. I had to choose myself. I had to choose to love myself enough to live fully.

To begin my self-love journey, I quit drinking and reflected on what love meant to me. I thought about how I wanted to build a relationship with my husband and applied those same qualities to my relationship with myself—honesty, trust, acceptance without judgment, support, care, open communication, and the willingness to share life’s joys, mistakes, failures, and successes.

 I had to love myself the way I wanted to be loved, I had to start by building trust within and reconnecting with myself. Self love is about making choices for yourself and loving yourself the way you want to be loved and the way you want to love and connect with others. 

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If you think you have a problem with alcohol consumption and aren’t sure where to begin, seek help. If you or someone you know is in the midst of substance abuse and aren’t comfortable talking to someone consider calling: 

988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. 

There are many health insurances out there that cover therapy for addiction at no cost to you, this was how I was able to get the help I needed at the time. It is worth understanding how your health insurance works for mental health coverage.

Friends, Lovers and the Big Terrible Thing by Matthew Perry was a big eye opener for me, and I’m so grateful that he shared his story with the world. It has inspired me to share mine.

The content shared on this blog reflects my personal experiences with self-healing, spirituality, and my psychic journey. My intention is to hold space for those also navigating healing from trauma, addiction, CPTSD, and the effects of childhood or religious conditioning. This blog is not a substitute for psychological therapy or professional treatment. Rather, it is a space for sharing my journey, in the hope that it may resonate with and support others on their own paths to healing and freedom.