Feeling At Home in My Own Skin

There was a time in my life when I didn't know what it felt like to simply be myself.

Everything began to change when I made one simple decision: I wanted to learn how to be me. The journey that followed wasn't simply about getting sober. It was about finding a way to feel at home within my own skin. A Big Question to Ponder

Prior to embarking on the personal journey module with One Breath Institute (OBI) in 2022, I encountered a podcast released by OBI's co-founders, Lisa McNett and Deborah Dickey, titled Sobriety. Given my history as a lifelong marijuana user, I was intrigued to hear their perspectives. The podcast shed light on the notion that from an early age, we are conditioned to believe that inhabiting our bodies is unsafe within most environments. This leads us to turn to substances as crutches for tolerance, productivity, and happiness. As a result, alcohol becomes a social facilitator, coffee a productivity booster, and various other substances are pursued for different reasons.

This concept struck me deeply as I recognized my dependence on marijuana to cope with life's challenges. I also acknowledged my use of alcohol as a social crutch. It became clear that I had never truly felt at ease within my own mind and body. As I sat with this, I wondered - what would I be like? What would life feel like without the influence of a substance? I decided in that moment that I would learn how to be me.

I began with a commitment to myself: one year of sobriety.

The Tradeoffs

Predictably, this endeavor presented its challenges in the following months. I understood this path wouldn't unfold without difficulties, especially considering my prior struggles to sustain sobriety. However, this time was different. This time, my motivation was personal – a choice made for myself, untethered to the pursuit of employment or the desire to please others. This time, I also had the support of my breathwork practice.

As I breathed introspectively while navigating the challenges of maintaining sobriety, I observed that I was substituting other behaviors, such as binge-watching TV and oversleeping, for my previous addiction. Consequently, my inner critic raised its voice, urging me to regain control.

The Inner Critic

The surge of newfound awareness that accompanied my breathwork practice was unfamiliar, and without a clear understanding of how to harness it, I had inadvertently directed it toward self-criticism and self-reproach.

As I marked the milestones of six months sober and then nine months sober, I began to experience a growing comfort within my own skin. The puzzle of why I had initially turned to substances became more intriguing. With each passing sober day, it became clear that my sense of ease now exceeded anything I had felt while using. I started to resent myself for my addictive and escapism behaviors.

And my inner critic didn't stop there.

I became overly critical of others for struggles with addiction, ultimately hindering my ability to extend grace and compassion. Recognizing this, I chose to read Gabor Maté's In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts, one of the books about addiction that was recommended during my breathwork training. The perspectives offered in this book softened my inner critic and expanded my compassion for others. As someone who had been a sensitive child and who later turned to marijuana during adolescence, this book's scientific explanations of the neurological predisposition to addiction offered relief from the harsh self-judgment of my inner critic. I began evaluating the presence of addictive behaviors with a more loving lens and allowed myself and others space to cope.

Present Day Reflection

Looking back now, several years have passed since I first wrote the preceding reflections. At the time, I was in the midst of a one-year commitment to sobriety, and everything I wrote reflected what I was learning in that season.

Today, my relationship with sobriety is more nuanced.

I am no longer completely sober, and I don't pretend to be. As I've navigated chronic pain, endometriosis, and the many complexities of life since then, I've also navigated the complexities of moderation. Today, I no longer define success by complete abstinence, but by the intention behind my choices and my ability to return to myself with honesty and self compassion. Some days I make choices that feel deeply aligned with the life I want to live. Other days, I find myself slipping back into old patterns of wanting relief, comfort, or escape. The urges didn't simply disappear because I became more self-aware.

What changed wasn't the existence of those urges. What changed was my relationship to them. They aren't failures. They're invitations to pause and ask myself what I need in that moment. Sometimes the answer is rest. Sometimes it's connection. Sometimes it's grief. Sometimes it's simply compassion.

I still believe the greatest gift sobriety gave me wasn't the absence of a high or a buzz. It was the clarity to realize that I was capable of feeling safe within myself. Once you've experienced that, you don't forget it. Even when life becomes messy again, you know that home exists within because you've been there before.

I don't see sobriety as a straight line, and I don't measure it by perfection. I measure it by my willingness to keep returning to myself with honesty, curiosity, and compassion.

Sobriety has taught me that home isn't a place you arrive and stay forever. Sometimes you wander. Sometimes life pulls you away. What matters is that you know the way back. For me, that's what my journey with sobriety has ultimately been about:

learning, again and again, how to come home to myself.