My
part in the recovery process required me to become more honest with myself, God
and other people. This was a slow and difficult process, but as I did it, I
began to experience a new closeness with friends and a respect for myself that
I had never had before. This new way of relating to others felt strange in the
beginning, but it also felt good. It was like I was being baptized into a new
and better world. By admitting my faults and vulnerabilities to people who could
understand and empathize with my experience, I was able to rise above the sense
of condemnation I learned as a child.
The ‘getting honest’ part of my
recovery work transformed my self-disgust into a compassionate regard for
myself and my own life experience. Allowing other people to know my mistakes
and vulnerabilities helped me experience the relational acceptance I needed.
Listening without judgment or criticism, they modeled to me the grace and
acceptance I didn’t get at home. This lightened the burden of shame and guilt I
felt, which encouraged me to become even more honest still. But there was more
to this experience. I started to feel lightness in my heart, and even, at
times, found humor in the things that once threatened my health and my safety.
I could accept and laugh at myself like never before. I was on a new path which
was leading me out of isolation and fear of the past to a newfound sense of
wholeness and honest friendship with others. This honest and transparent way of
recovery brought me authentic, burden-bearing friendships I previously thought
were not going to be possible for someone like me.
Matthew 5:5 MSG
This is an excerpt from When Lost Men Come Home, not for men only copyright, david zailer 2012

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