Jennifer Bridgman
Who knew that there are places we can gather each day, to share our light and our dark, and to hear that we are loved? Who knew that the greatest learning in my life would take place in my 40s and that the subject I’m most curious about is myself? Who knew that I could do the hard things, say the hard things, and feel the hard things without reaching for a drink? Who knew that I could wake up and smile into my pillow, simply for the gift of another sober morning? Who knew that I would enjoy talking about chakras and poetry and enneagrams and quit lit and signs from the universe? And that I’d seek out others who do the same? Who knew that I’d never again have to walk into the kitchen in the morning and gauge my husband’s body language and expression to determine how bad things had been the night before? Who knew that I don’t have to have the answers, or have my shit together, or be the life of the party? Who knew that I didn’t even have to go to that party?
Who knew that “no” is a complete sentence? Who knew that I could trust myself completely when no one is watching? Who knew that as my parents grow older and diagnoses like cancer and dementia become our reality, that I could go from the dependent to the dependable? From the comforted to the comforting? Who knew that some of the most romantic moments of my life wouldn't involve champagne, roses, and candlelit dinners, but rather holding hands in a hospital bed or sitting side-by-side in a family therapy session? Who obsessively moderating my drinking in secret for so many years was actually just as harmful to my existence as the hell of very public rock bottom? knew that Who knew that I would come to consider myself a deeply spiritual person and that my doubts about the world could turn to curiosity...that my thoughts could turn to wonder? Who knew that I could be the one inspiring others?
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