Finding Higher Power

Honoring Women Who Stand with Me

Photo by Becca Tapert on Unsplash

I grew up in a Catholic family and attended Catholic school through sixth grade. I once believed in those teachings, but something always felt a little off. As a young girl, I remember wishing with curiosity that I was Native American, wanting to know more about our connection to Mother Earth, the sun, and the stars. At one time, I was convinced I must be Jewish. I just couldn’t quite buy into the idea that a belief in Jesus as our savior was the only ticket through heaven’s gate.

But there was no space for questions or exploration. You did and believed what you were told.

My faith left me slowly, just like my dependence on alcohol came to me gradually. Both were unknowingly wrapped around the complexity of the imperceptible progression of unrecognized childhood trauma.

Then, into my fifth decade, I was brough to my knees by exhaustion. The inauthentic parts of my life had taken their toll. Seeking support through therapy, I was presented with the opportunity to explore deeper, and I found myself searching for anything I could grasp to bring clarity and healing into a life that was no longer working for me.

After I decided to stop drinking alcohol, my new friends in sobriety suggested that it was necessary to “surrender to a higher power.” Respecting their experience, I went along with the crowd and chanted in unison the Serenity Prayer and the Lord’s Prayer. But it wasn’t resonating anymore. It wasn’t in my heart. I was again going through the motions of what I was told to do and what to believe. Because I wanted to belong.

My resistance came from somewhere deep. If there was a higher power, why was my suffering so dark? So secret? Why was I so alone? Why didn’t I feel like I belonged anywhere?

But those new friends (not my therapist) told me I had to. Although a belief in a Christian God had left me, my compulsion to follow rules (perfectly, I might add) was still deeply ingrained. So, I tried. And tried. And tried. But my efforts were only confusing and frustrating. The words of the others, overwhelmingly Christian, were just not working. I felt alienated. Again.

Until…

Just months into working with my therapist and twenty days since my last glass of wine, I went to lunch with three of my best friends. I was fragile and sobriety was tender. I knew I needed to disclose my situation to my besties because this time I would not be having a margarita with them. As we reviewed the menu, I said in an uncharacteristically shaky voice, “I need to tell you all something. And I don’t want to. I’m very scared.”

With their curious, concerned encouragement, I took a deep breath. Tears welling up in my eyes, I shamefully looked down and began to whisper my secret to them, “I’m no longer drinking. I have a dependence. I’m an alcoholic.”¹

As I looked up, I saw their tears mirroring my own. They were each grasping for me across the table to hold my hands and hug me. I was overwhelmed by their love and unwavering friendship. I don’t think I ate much, but I felt loved and cared for. One more layer of shame was released by disclosing my challenges out loud.

As I walked home, lost in my own thoughts of gratitude, I abruptly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. I exclaimed in my own head, “I have it! I found my higher power! It was with me all along!”

My higher power is simply my own Inner Power, fueled by the strength of the women around me. Those who are with me now. Those who were with me from before. And the women who are yet to be a part of me. My Inner Power is grounded in the love of Mother Earth, the love of my mother, and the love of my godmother. As a mother, my Inner Power is deep within me.

The power comes from our willingness to share our insight, grace, and perspective. We cry and hurt together. We listen, laugh, learn, and grow together. And most importantly, we love deeply together.

It was there all along. I just had to release the rules and beliefs that no longer served me.

My Inner Power is fueled by the strength of the women around me. Those who are with me now. Those who were with me from before. And the women who are yet to be a part of me.

Now, just as I did as a young girl full of hope, I stand in the dark evening and look up between the trees. In the brisk winter air or the warm summer breeze, I search between the clouds for the first sparkle to catch my eye. I hold my breath and send wishes to the stars on behalf of my beloveds. And maybe even a wish or two for myself.

           Star light
           Star bright
           First star I see tonight
           I wish I may
           I wish I might
           That my wish come true tonight

1. I no longer use the term alcoholic to describe myself. As I continue to learn about alcohol use and dependence, I’ve shifted the question from “Am I an alcoholic?” to, “Is alcohol getting in the way of my life?” The answer to the second question gives me much more agency, control, and healing. In capturing this story, I wanted to be true to the language I used at the time. It was the language I had available to me.

Curious? Quit Like a Woman: The Radical Choice to Not Drink in a Culture Obsessed with Alcohol, by Holly Whitaker

This Naked Mind: Control Alcohol – Find Freedom, Discover Happiness & Change Your Life, by Annie Grace.

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