Sober Space: A reflection on my brave journey to discover the abundant power of sobriety
I woke up slightly hung over after celebrating my 39th birthday with a cherished friend Erin, and it dawned on me that this hangover may be unlike all the rest. I felt a sense of unease as I processed the commitment I’d made to myself. In the same moment, I felt nostalgic about the pleasure brought on by sipping crisp Okanagan wine from a delicate wine glass. I had decided to take a magnificent leap into my 39th year by challenging myself to remain sober from alcohol.
Mixed with the disappointment over my new boyfriend completely forgetting my birthday, I agonized that I was completely out of my depth. I was at a crossroads and all I wanted to do was numb my disappointment. Was I even capable of honoring such a dramatic commitment during this pivotal time in my life?
The previous two years were filled with turmoil, change and incredible growth as I learned how to navigate polyamorous dynamics, face deep seated insecurities and re-examine my people-pleasing tendencies. I had spent the last couple of years pushing reluctant partners to start a family with me. I eventually accepted that motherhood was not my path and began to release familial and societal expectations.
My polyamorous explorations led me to date a driven, hilarious man who initially agreed to open relationship dynamics. Falling in love shifted everything. Ironically, it became abundantly clear that his core desire was to be chosen, while I desired to love freely. Our endless negotiations resulted in an agreement to build a monogamous relationship. We discussed marriage, starting a family and building a life together. A sense of relief washed over me as I contemplated how pleased my mother and grandmother would be to hear about my future plans. I contemplated reducing my alcohol intake to encourage pregnancy. I realized that transitioning away from alcohol would be incredibly challenging as my dependency was undeniable. My partner and I forged ahead, shifting to a monogamous dynamic as I ended other polyamorous connections.
Previously, I had promised my brother and his wife that I’d take care of my 2 year old niece and 6 year old nephew while their mother attended nursing school in Newfoundland. For six weeks, I’d play the role of single mom with a short break around my birthday. I naively envisioned a smooth transition to care-giving, considering my previous 15 years as a Montessori teacher. Confused by my new role, my firecracker niece began to say, “Mama A Paige” instead of calling me Auntie.
Not surprisingly, this absence put significant strain on my relationship back home as our communication faltered and our connection dwindled. After a couple weeks of care taking, I understood how much time, energy and resources it took to care for these youngsters. I struggled with waking up in the middle of the night to my niece screeching, endless cleaning around the house, taking them from school to various activities and then the boredom I felt in those in-between moments.
I felt incredibly isolated and lonely, not finding the support I needed from my partner. Our phone conversations lacked the intimacy and depth that I desperately craved. I leaned on my mom for support, which was limited due to arthritic pain while she waited for hip surgery. I often called my sister to share how much I was struggling and she listened with endless compassion. I called my confidant, Elena, balling my eyes out, frustrated by how hard it was to get my nephew to clean up after himself. She reminded me of what was actually important and encouraged me to let go of everything else.
During these struggles, I started to ask myself difficult questions and envision myself as an older mom at home with toddlers. I began to truly understand the felt sense of being a mother and wife, holding everything together for your family. My brain felt frazzled and my body felt exhausted. I explored the question of how I wanted to feel in the next twenty years.
In early September, my brother arrived home from work and greeted me by saying, “Go get dad’s ashes out of the trailer.” You can imagine my shock as I didn’t even know he had been cremated. I dutifully found his ashes and brought them into the house. I created a little space in the dining room hutch to store his ashes next to a family photo. Encountering my dad’s ashes initiated a cascade of emotions and unprocessed grief. That night, he visited me in my dreams and it felt so peaceful. I woke up feeling heavy with the melancholy of my father’s absence and my brother’s thoughtlessness. He had not even asked what my sister and I would like to do with our father’s ashes. He announced that he would take the ashes to a lake we’d never even been to before. I had a vision of spreading dad’s ashes in a far off country because we both loved to travel.
I could feel this anxious energy mounting inside of me like a volcano ready to erupt. I was impatient with my nephew, fed up with my brother, missing my father and distraught with my partner. Over a call, my partner joked that I had been dropped too many times on my head as a child. This comment was simply too much. I ended our phone call as everything boiled to the surface. I screamed and cried, all while punching a pillow repeatedly as rage erupted from the depths of my being. A lifetime of appeasing everyone, flashed before my eyes, a glimpse into what my agreeableness had cost me. My fits of rage sparked a waterfall of tears, gushing, releasing, and actually bringing an intense emotional cycle through to completion. As I began to regulate my nervous system, I suddenly felt brave. I spoke to my brother about his inability to even thank me for leaving my life in Vancouver to take care of his family. I pointed out that my relationship back home was suffering and that I did not agree with his plan for spreading dad’s ashes. For the first time in my life, my brother actually responded to me, he looked at me with tears in his eyes and thanked me for taking care of his kids.
On the morning of my birthday, my brother was home from work, somewhat helping care for the kids. At times, It felt like I was taking care of a third child as I witnessed his struggles with alcohol. I walked into the kitchen the morning of my birthday and he demanded something and I curtly responded by saying, “Happy Birthday Paige.” My mood was low from the previous two days especially considering my father’s birthday was the day before mine. I prepared my niece and nephew for the day ahead, changing my niece’s diaper after a huge blowout. I drove my nephew to school and found shit smeared all over the sleeve of my dress as I collected his bag from the trunk. I responded abhorrently at the powers that be ”No-not today!”
Second outfit change, niece in brother’s care, I escaped to Kelowna for a night of celebration. In anticipation of my year of being sober, my mom gently suggested that I consider quitting drinking on October 1st, after I had returned to Vancouver and been released from my caregiver duties. I responded, “No, mom it has to be my entire 39th year on this planet.”
My commitment was tested on my first day of sobriety because my partner completely forgot my birthday, despite several reminders. He had called in the morning and I answered, “I guess you forgot?” He replied, “Forgot what?” and I said, “My birthday” and he just said, “Oh.” I abruptly ended our conversation. He immediately sent me an e-gift card to a spa in Kelowna, which I did not accept. I requested some space to process the disappointment of being let down by another man I loved.
As I navigated the initial month of being sober, my tendency to numb hard feelings subsided as I took a hard look at my future. The niggling doubt of becoming a wife and mother morphed into an undeniable truth that motherhood was no longer my path. I was terrified of living a life that felt small and lacked purpose. I knew deep down that I was destined to help people in extraordinary ways.
I could finally see how my people pleasing tendencies showed up in my relationships, both personally and professionally. As a teacher, I would give absolutely everything to my students and their families. I reflected that anything my employers asked from me, I would get it done, no matter the toll on my well being. I identified myself as “Miss Paige,” the work horse. This lack of work life balance led to burnout. I communicated my boundaries around needing my time outside of work respected, but my employer of seven years dismissed my concerns saying, “I’ve had to struggle with my plate being too full, since the first day I opened my business.”
Needless to say, my pleas fell on deaf ears and I left a thriving school community I had tirelessly helped build for seven years. This transition was so scary that it actually took a whole other year of working at another preschool, experiencing more burnout and exasperation before finally closing that chapter for good! In October, I returned to Vancouver with my mind made up. I would leave childcare and work full time at OEB, a restaurant I’d been working part time at for several years.
It was time to have a really hard conversation with my partner. We went for a walk in the forest and I shared that I no longer wanted to have children. I stressed my desire to focus on my new, emerging career path. He was obviously very disappointed to hear of my sudden change of heart. Afterwards, we discussed the possibility of building a life together that did not involve children. In the same breadth, I could not ignore my desire to explore polyamorous dynamics once again. Similarly, his desire to be “chosen” could not be altered. We tried to negotiate a workable compromise to keep our connection alive. After months of back and forth, in our own ways, we finally accepted that our values were not aligned and ended our relationship.
As I re-integrated into my Vancouver life, as a sober single being, I told anyone who would listen that I would return to drinking on my 40th birthday. For the longest time, I fixated on this date to help maintain focus on the end goal. Luckily, I discovered the Somatica Institute that fit perfectly into the new career path I was carving out for myself. The possibility of becoming a Somatica® sex and relationship coach excited me to my core. I had no idea the level of transformation that Somatica would ignite. I gained a somatic foundation to support my erotic exploration and growth, as I moved through new relationship structures and growing edges. I was among the most accepting, loving people and knew I had found my tribe. Being initiated into the Somatica community felt like coming home to myself again and again.
I experienced an epiphany attending a 5MEO-DMT psychedelic journey and sound bath. As I was deeply immersed in this exquisite psychedelic journey, I felt an erotically charged energetic pulse emanating outwards, connecting with everyone through my playful inner child. I felt nourished and expanded by this illuminating experience. During the closing meditation, I reflected that the old Paige would have spent a Saturday afternoon enjoying cheap happy hour drinks. I certainly would not have participated in a psychedelic experience with this group of people.
This revelation made me question my return to drinking after the year was up. It was true that I had improved my relationship with alcohol, but I also calculated the risk of falling back into old habits. Was I willing to threaten all the incredible momentum I’d made after a year of sobriety? So I started to seriously envision what the later portion of my life might look like without the influence of alcohol. I questioned how I wanted to feel and who I wanted to be surrounded by. It was simply not worth the risk. I celebrated my 40th birthday among a community of women at Lady Camp in Nevada, delighting in a day of firsts and not thinking once about getting drunk.
This second year has flown by with endless challenges and abundant opportunities. I could not imagine where my life would be today had I not delved deep into my heart’s yearnings, asked myself difficult questions, processed grief and made the choice every single day not to pick up that drink. There is no way that I would have made gigantic leaps and bounds had I continued to numb the hard things that surfaced for me. This last week marks my 41st birthday and I am so proud to celebrate two years of sobriety.
I have carved out a brave sober space from within, a place of such spaciousness that nourishes my desire to love freely and build extraordinary connections. My abundant heart knows that vulnerability is my superpower and this is how I choose to show up in the world.
