An interesting thought struck me just as I sat down to write. A voice within said, “Laura, be real”
I pondered that involuntary, ever-so-helpful suggestion from my conscience.
Be real.
What else would I be?
Not real? A Fake? An imitator?
Who would I be, if I were not being real?
I guess I know all too well:
Who I’ve been for most of my life: Someone, other than me.
I think we all yearn to be real. Being something or someone you are not is wearying. It’s also:
Shallow, dishonest, pathetic.
Truthfully, I spent most of my life trying to be something and someone else. As a kid, I was
uncomfortably and withdrawingly shy. In 9th grade I tried hanging with my older sisters and their friends.
I wanted to be flicking my hair, twirling around, chatting it up, not sitting like a lump, staring at my
shoes, feeling like a misfit.
I wanted to be comfortable and accepted, anything besides who I was.
It was a relief to discover my secret to fitting in:
Alcohol.
My Helper.
There should be a label saying, “Warning: This may change You (and all your relationships).” Liquid
courage is an appropriate name, but for me, alcohol was much more than that. It was a solution to my
painful uncomfortableness (discomfort sounds too comfortable). It was also an antidote to the way I
felt inside: empty, alone, different.
On top of giving me a way out of my painful shyness and a providing a salve to my inner wounds, alcohol
made me feel Pretty!
It made me feel Fun!
It made me feel Outgoing!
I could dance! (evidently, there were no mirrors)
Let’s stop here and fast forward to when I was brought into the embarrassing reality of what alcohol
was really doing:
Hurting me.
Hurting those around me.
I discovered in a rather “real” way that alcohol did not make me pretty, fun, or outgoing.
It made me ugly, hurtful, and harmful.
To myself and to others.
I thank God (and so many wonderful, encouraging, supportive friends) that I don’t drink today. I had no
idea life could be so fabulous and fun without alcohol.
I had no idea I could dance. (well since we’re being real, I have one, maybe two good moves while
imitating Bindy on Dancing with the Stars)
Several years have passed without any alcohol touching my lips.
I am learning to be real.
For the first time in my life, I can say:
I’m sorry. I was wrong. You were right. Let me help you. I don’t know. Please forgive me.
and
Want to dance?