When the Lights Start Coming On

On sobriety, self-care, faith, boundaries, and learning to stop carrying what was never mine.

This is going to be a long post, but only because it feels worth it.

At least, it feels worth it to me. And maybe if someone else is sitting in a similar seat, feeling any of this, something here might help. Or at the very least, maybe it helps you feel a little less alone.

Lately, I’ve been going down a self-care rabbit hole — the good kind.

The kind where one book leads to another, and suddenly little lights start turning on in places you didn’t even realize were dark.

The Rabbit Hole I Didn’t Know I Needed

I recently read Loveable by Kelly Flanagan, and it was such a wake-up call for me.

It hit that place where you start realizing how much of your life can be shaped by old stories about worth, belonging, shame, and whether or not you are “enough.”

That book led me into learning more about how to stop trying to control other people and start actually caring for myself.

And thanks to a recommendation from my amazing friend Tammie, who I am so grateful for, I also started reading Codependent No More.

And boy.

Pokedy, poke, poke me.

Right now, I’m sitting with ideas like righteous indignation, what’s mine and what isn’t, what I’m responsible for and what I’m not, and how easy it can be to absorb the moods, choices, chaos, or dysfunction of other people — even when it just plain has nothing to do with me.

Seven Months Sober and Still Learning

When I originally wrote this, I had just hit seven months sober.

And over those seven months, CBT — Cognitive Behavioral Therapy — had become really important work for me.

That thought-feeling-action stuff has helped me with sobriety, my mental health, and working on myself in general. It has helped me notice my thoughts, question the stories I tell myself, and try not to let one feeling become the whole truth.

And listen.

You can be well-therapied, well-read, self-aware, prayed up, sober, trying your best, and still not magically “fixed.”

This work is a lot.

Like, so much.

Because the ideas can sound simple on paper:

Pause.
Breathe.
Don’t react.
Don’t absorb what isn’t yours.

But then life gives you a real-time test.

When Someone Throws Their Crap in Your Yard

And seriously, honestly, it is tough to turn the other cheek when someone is throwing their crap in your yard.

It’s tough to stay patient with people who are not patient with you.

It’s tough to stay calm when someone else’s chaos lands on your porch.

And it is even tougher not to pick up what they threw and throw it right back.

But this is where my faith keeps meeting me.

I am so grateful I have a loving God in my life. One who treats me with grace, patience, respect, and mercy. One who is there when I seek Him.

And if I want that kind of patience, grace, and mercy extended to me while I’m still learning, then I have to remember that other people are learning too.

Faith Does Not Mean Absorbing Everything

That does not mean everything is mine to fix.

It does not mean allowing disrespect, ignoring boundaries, or pretending things don’t hurt.

It just means I’m learning that faith doesn’t ask me to absorb everything.

Sometimes, it just asks me not to throw the dirt back.

The more I’m learning, the more I’m realizing that my awareness does not always have to become my responsibility.

What someone else does, says, feels, or chooses is still theirs.

What I do with my energy, my reaction, my peace, my boundaries, and my attention — that’s where my work is.

I Am Not Here to Fix Everybody

I’m not a therapist.

I’m not trying to fix anybody.

Honestly, learning that I don’t have to fix everybody is kind of the whole point.

I’m just sharing where I am because this season has been eye-opening for me.

I got Audible recently, and instead of having the TV on in the background while I work during the day, I’ve had books talking to me while I work.

And somehow, I’ve been feeling more calm, more reflective, and honestly more empowered.

It’s wild how one book can open a door, and then another one walks you farther down the hallway.

The Lights Are Coming On

I’m grateful for the people who have shared their wisdom with me.

I’m grateful for the way these little pieces are starting to string together into a path of healing and recovery for myself.

I’m not sharing this because I have it all figured out.

I’m sharing because the lights are coming on.

And maybe that’s part of what sobriety has given me.

Not perfection.

Not some magical version of myself who never struggles.

But enough space, enough clarity, and enough honesty to finally start seeing what needs light.

Healing Is Not Always Loud

And the more the lights come on, the more I realize healing isn’t always loud or dramatic.

Sometimes healing is learning to pause before reacting.

But that “just” part is big.

And important.

Sometimes healing is choosing peace over people-pleasing.

Sometimes it’s letting God work on the parts of you that want to control, defend, explain, or fix everything.

And sometimes it’s simply learning to stop carrying what was never yours.

To breathe.
To tell the truth.
To keep your heart soft.
To come back home to yourself.