It takes courage to write with complete honesty—but finding that courage is a step forward toward recovery, for you as well as for those who read your sharing. You don’t have to be a professional writer. Find the guidelines for submitting your personal stories here.
Equals and Partners in a Spiritual Endeavor
Translating Conference Approved Literature – Part 1 Before joining the World Service Office (WSO) as a Paralegal, I had not considered how Conference Approved Literature (CAL) is translated into languages other than Spanish and French. Today, I appreciate the independent review process, which ensures that CAL translations are both faithful to the original English text and effective in conveying the program’s spiritual message. When the Board of Trustees of Al-Anon grants permission to an international structure (an organized group responsible…
Staying on My Side of the Court
Staying on My Side of the Court I hadn’t played tennis for many years but took it up again after my marriage to an alcoholic ended. Although I really enjoyed playing, I would often finish a game feeling angry and resentful toward my opponent. During our games, I concentrated so much on what was happening on her side of the court that I couldn’t even call a ball in or out on my own side. If my opponent miscalled a…
Caring for the Parent Who Didn’t Care for Me
Caring for the Parent Who Didn’t Care for Me I didn’t realize I was raised in alcoholism. Mine felt like a typical Gen X childhood—latchkey kid, caring for younger siblings, parents who worked hard and partied harder. Only later did I understand the instability and trauma that shaped me. Looking back, I can see that alcoholism ran deep in my mom’s family. Chaos was normalized. Safety wasn’t. Today, my mom is 74 and in declining health. My siblings and I…
I Put Myself First
I Put Myself First When I first came to Al‑Anon, I never realized how deeply I was affected by growing up in an alcoholic family. However, attending Al‑Anon meetings slowly but surely taught me how to take care of myself. For a long time, I never put myself first, but in Al‑Anon, I learned that I have choices. I discovered that I can say no, let go of the rope rather than play tug-of-war, and not attend every argument I…
From Worry to Wonder
From Worry to Wonder I have been a worrier since childhood, and I had reason to be. My mother developed rheumatoid arthritis at 35 and spent years in a wheelchair. My father drank too much beer and had mood swings that ranged from depression to rage. When I was 12, I somehow decided that if I ever stopped worrying, something terrible would happen. I didn’t know any better. I became the family’s resident worrier. With my mom’s condition, a move…
If I Am Aware, I Am Responsible
If I Am Aware, I Am Responsible Years ago, I decided to branch out and find an additional meeting to attend in the town where I lived. There were limited choices in this relatively small community, including a local meeting I attended occasionally. What I experienced was a meeting that had one member who served as both the sole keyholder and the contact with the facility where the meeting was held. Each week, “Jim” unlocked the building, set up the…
An Al-Anon Group Is an Al‑Anon Group—Even Online
An Al-Anon Group Is an Al‑Anon Group—Even Online I wasn’t sure what bothered me about electronic Al‑Anon groups when I first started attending them. They were new and different to me, and with my camera off and a made-up name, I could be completely invisible. I could drop in and out when I felt like it, without considering any disruption I might cause or sharing in the responsibility of serving the group. This made me vaguely uncomfortable, but the convenience…
Courage to Heal
Courage to Heal I imagined a bandage covering an open wound: the alcoholism of someone else and its effects on my life. I covered it carefully, hiding it from everyone around me because I did not want to reveal its cause. Over time, and with the help of Al‑Anon, I realized that only after I was willing to remove the bandage, look at the wound, and openly discuss it with others who also tended to hide their wounds, would I…
I Didn’t Want to Look at Myself
I Didn’t Want to Look at Myself When I look back at my past decisions, I can honestly say that I spent more time trying to fix others than working on myself. I probably did this because I didn’t want to look at my defects. I didn’t know I had any. Maybe it was denial that helped me cope. I deflected. In my childhood, feelings weren’t discussed, and self-reflection wasn’t a part of life. You just “got by.” Mom and…