Fifteen years have passed since I learned my partner of 9 years, with whom I shared a home, two dogs, and a toddler, was seeing another woman. I was devastated.
Four years have passed since I learned my mountain climbing boyfriend of 8 years, who had resumed drinking, was seeing a girl 5 years older than his daughter who loved to drink and play 50 Shades games. I was deeply shaken.
Four weeks have passed since the guy I met on Tinder, whom I’d dated 14 months, ended our relationship via text message. I am so happy!
I’m happy not just because I have oodles more free time, or am relieved of compromising to make the relationship work and pretending the pheromones weren’t a mismatch. I’m happy because I don’t want another relationship!
Those of you who’ve read my mammoth addiction memoir, for which this blog is named, know I chased a twofold addiction for nearly 20 years before finding AA: alcohol gave me relaxation and well-being; infatuation gave me excitement and, when reciprocated, self-worth. Really, I should say in both cases facsimiles of those things, because well-being bought through impaired brain function is not really well-being, and self-worth leased through someone’s approval is not really self-worth.
But anyway. You guys know the deal with that.
What I am realizing today is that, prior to dating this fellow, I STILL HAD a relationship addiction — which is finally, finally GONE. God has lifted it. I’m excited about my life exactly as it is.
What does relationship addiction look like? Like all addictions, at its deepest foundation lies fear. Fear of missing out on the playful bantering and sizzling sex married folks enjoy for decades (right?). Fear of not being enough. Of getting old alone. Of being discounted somehow as a failure because you never “found somebody.”
When I first came to AA at 34, I felt incapable of living sober, while the beautiful 28-year-old blonde infatuated with me had over 3 years clean, so I signed up, in a way, for both. That relationship was my sobriety safe space. I needed it. When her infatuation wore off, she did what I’d done in three previous relationships — looked for a new “magic” person who could inspire dopamine spikes. When she left, all my sense of security went with her.
I dated AA men for two years, becoming infatuated twice with non-reciprocating targets, before I met the mountain climber in OSAT, my sober climbing group. Together we summited volcanoes, hiked nearly 1,000 miles in remote wilderness, and bicycled another 1,000 along the Pacific Coastal Highway. He was gorgeous to look at, left-brain brilliant, and right-brain dumb as a stump — meaning he could complete a Saturday New York Times crossword puzzle in pen but not interpret emotions in others or himself beyond glad, sad, or mad.
I made that my job — interpreting for both of us. Sadly, attending AA soon became my job for both of us as well, and in 2010, he began to drink in secret. Traveling for work, he discovered, first, the sexual allure of hotel bar rooms and, later, the young protégé at work who worshipped him.
I discounted clues right and left because I needed him. He represented not security, but adventure. My glossed-over idea of him differed from the actual man, just as our glossed-over version of our alcoholic drinking differed from our actual consumption. In both cases, we protect what we think we need by casting it in a delusional light. My imagined boyfriend possessed a simple but ironclad distinction of right vs.wrong to complement his glad, sad, or mad insights.
But the real one did not — because active alcoholics cannot distinguish the true from the false. Out the window, for most, goes accountability. As a relationship addict, I wasn’t exactly distinguishing true from false, either, so his deceit lasted two years before I surreptitiously “borrowed” his old iPhone, which I somehow miraculously unlocked. There I discovered his other life.
This time, though, I understood nothing in me had caused his behavior. I soon discovered I could summit volcanoes with sober friends and hike hundreds of wilderness miles alone when I wasn’t dancing ballet, enjoying friendships, interviewing fellow NDErs, throwing parties, blogging, or loving my home and son. Yet I still longed for a cohort. Emptiness tugged at me relentlessly in every waking moment. Prayer didn’t help. Neither did the therapy. Like a Robin without a Batman, I yearned to be half a dynamic duo.
I tried all the apps — Tinder, Bumble, Fit Singles — and went on 64 dates over two years. Each time I was hopeful via text, then disappointed in person. Finally, I found a prospect — an ultra-marathoner who claimed to love all the same things I do. His rush toward ‘the three words’ smacked of infatuation, but he assured me he’d evolved beyond that. His lack of friends, mood swings, and erratic decisions signaled alcoholic dryness (he’d quit on his own). Gradually, as his infatuation faded, so did all those things he’d claimed to love. When he bonked on a steep hike, he cried petulantly, “This is the dumbest hike I’ve ever been on!” and soon announced he’d hike no more. Meticulous body shaving and moisturizing regimes made him unwilling to camp. He even disliked walks or bike rides not on his Excel training schedule. Soon we had nothing in common — hence his text.
But like the previous two, this guy gave me a lasting gift — or rather, god did. I’ve finally realized I need no Batman. I’m driving the goddamn Batmobile myself — and it’s AMAZING what I can do with it!! From wheelies to road trips — who needs a partner? At least, who needs one STAT? I do not. I’ll never swipe again.
What if — and this is rocket science, I know — I turn this matter over to the care of my higher power, as part of my will and my life? What if I trust that, if I pursue the life I love, a mainstay of which is service to others, god will take care of the rest? Being me is enough. No words can convey how grateful I am to truly feel this way at last. Sobriety just keeps getting better.
5 responses to “On Living Sober, Sane, and Single”
I love seeing and witnessing women finding their own empowerment. I’ve always had it and is probably partially why I’m divorced and have remained single. The empath in me “knows stuff” which often makes people uncomfortable. It’s why I haven’t gone into “energy work,” not wanting to intrude on others energy field. As much as I would like a snuggle partner, it always seems to come with compromises. I can’t bring my own self “down” to someone else’s lower energy. It’s as simple as this. And trying to help them “get it” is tricky at best. So, I admire you and all who have come through the flames, to keep love alive, regardless. You have found your tribe who support You. Let go, let God…..or as Kim and I call say “Flo”…..you are appreciated and exactly where you are meant to be. ~ Kathy
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Thanks, Kathy! I’ve spent 40 years with my locus of self-worth in the other person’s approval, was all my projection, anyway. And now I just want *my* approval – and to seek what I feel to be god’s. It’s so much simpler!
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Oh boy. The story was a little different, but I also began to realize that if I kept God by my side always I’d have no need for ”OTHER” fulfillment. I am complete & maybe it’s partially because I have had real love from another so I am missing nothing. I will never say I won’t attempt a relationship again because none of us knows the answer to that. But I am not looking & I am very happy in my skin. Thank God for sobriety. I’d hate to think that at my age I’d be doin the one night stand thing still. I’m better than that. Be happy.
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Well said, Carol! 🙂
There is such truth in “I can’t love anyone else until I learn to love myself”. I am 38 years sober and have been blessed with being single for the past 12 years. I love my life today and the freedom, serenity and spiritual wellness it affords me. I live in my skin today and wonder (even though I fully understand) what the big deal was about having that person to belong to. For all women in recovery, allow yourself the time it takes to grow spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. It is such an amazing place to be. I loved to journey getting to where I am today, (well maybe not all the days..lol) but I am loving the destination so much better. It has been a very long trip from who I was to who I am today and who I was truly meant to be. I wish you all a pleasant trip.
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