I redefine showing up

Whenever I think of Glennon Doyle’s earlier work, these words echo between my ears, “Just show up, Glennon. All you have to do is show up and do the next right thing.”

For most of my life, I thought showing up meant never leaving the house without makeup or clean hair. Putting together the perfect outfit, as part of my morning routine, was a dramatic hurricane of emotions, negative self-talk, and flying clothes. When I finally did leave the house, I never forgot to plaster on a bubbly fake smile because I believed niceness was the path to belonging. I thought showing up meant having a full social calendar and a perfectly Instagram-able life.

I thought doing the next right thing meant finishing college and landing a full time, salary, casual-jean-Friday-type job. I thought doing the next right thing meant striving for an expensive fairytale wedding, buying a house, and popping out a few babies all before the age of 30 (none of which happened, btw).

All of my next right things were based on cookie cutter societal norms. It seems like, somewhere along the way, society taught me that showing up meant masking, dulling, and suppressing my truest self in an effort to gain external validation.

Now, in an effort to maintain sobriety and fight off emotional meltdowns, I decided to redefine showing up by adding some self-compassion. My therapist encouraged me to list 3-5 ways I can show up for myself by using self-compassion each morning. 

Today’s list says:

1. Pay off an overdue bill

2. Listen to my favorite podcast while coloring

3. Eat an extra helping at dinner (I have been working to gain some healthy curves)

4. Take a long nature walk with my dog

Past showing up for myself lists include things like: limiting news, social media, caffeine, and marijuana consumption, consistent sleep hygiene, being honest with my therapist, budgeting, hydrating, Tempest calls, videos, and community, doing laundry and the dishes, setting boundaries, engaging in creativity, taking vitamins, having tough conversations, scheduling quiet time, cheering myself on, practicing Hygge, welcoming all emotions, and wearing comfy clothes.

While Glennon is right about showing up and doing the next right thing, in order to maintain my own sobriety, I need to make sure I am not showing up for external validation. Now I understand showing up, especially during recovery, is actually about finding ways to incorporate self-compassion into the chaos of my everyday life.

I redefine showing up.

I am worthy of rest

Hi, my name is Kelsi and I’m an extreme napper. Yesterday I had the luxury of taking 3 naps. It was incredible. Admittingly though, I feel guilty saying that out loud. It can feel like such an indulgence to nap while tired. My question is: Why?

My extreme napping skills were passed down from my dad. When I was a kid, he would nap during the day whenever he got the chance. My mom, on the other hand, would huff and puff and loudly tidy up the house because she didn’t understand how someone could rest during the middle of the damn day. According to my mom, productivity equaled worthiness.

When I was in college I’d attempt 17 or 18 credit semesters, while working 30 hours a week (and mastering my car napping skills) because I thought that’s how it worked. My best friend at the time, who graduated with honors and a full time job, also believed there was a direct correlation between her daily output and her self-esteem. 

Endless work + minimal rest = success. 

It seemed like a simple enough formula.

Every time I went to rehab, our schedules were filled from 7am until 9pm with group therapy, meetings, meals, crafting, trips to the gym or library; anything to occupy our addict brains. We definitely weren’t worthy of naps.

Now, with the help of a therapist, and after experiencing lockdown, I am learning how important rest actually is. As an introvert and easily over-stimulated human, rest is essential to my overall wellbeing and general functioning. I was exhausted for 20 years. It makes sense that I used alcohol, or anything I could get my hands on, in order to survive the day.

In my perfect world, naps would be a requirement for sobriety. As Glennon Doyle would say, we become like exposed nerves when we get sober. Everything is hard and everything is emotional. Everything is changing and everything is surfacing. Here’s a radical thought - maybe rest actually helps us feel better.

Let’s create a new formula and ditch the shame, shall we?

Endless work + minimal rest = torture, self-abuse, emotional instability, addiction

Meaningful work + prioritizing consistent rest = self-compassion, space for healing, potentially fewer emotional meltdowns at the grocery store

I took three naps yesterday and that’s okay. I am worthy of rest.

I seek compassion for myself and others

Last week an old friend, who I haven’t spoken to in about six years, showed up on my caller ID. Thinking it was a butt dial, I let it go to voicemail. When I called her back, she was hysterical. Turns out, her husband had been arrested for his second DUI, just three weeks after their first child was born.

My friend said she was ready to bail on the marriage; take the baby and run. Picking her husband up from jail, with their newborn in the backseat, was not her idea of acceptable. She wanted to send him away and cut ties forever.

Our conversation brought me back to the day my mom picked me up from jail, after my second DUI, just five days after I had completed rehab. I bet my mom hysterically called someone, too.

Honestly, if I didn’t have my own DUI history, I probably would have encouraged my friend to get out and protect her own wellbeing. But in my experience, when people shut me out, called me crazy, and left me in exile, it only made the drinking worse. It only reinforced and increased the shame I was already drinking to cover up.

I told my friend people don’t get DUIs out of choice or because they are lacking a moral compass. People get DUIs because they are in PAIN. And there is nothing worse than being shunned and judged and criminalized for that pain.

The people in our lives who are “acting out” the most, are the ones who need us most. If you woke up hungover this morning, I see you, I feel you, I love you. You will always have a friend in me.

While that phone call left me feeling heavy, it also broke me open with compassion. Maybe, if I can show others compassion after their darkest moments, I can also start to do the same for myself after a decade of shameful drunken behavior. We are all in this together.

I seek compassion for myself and others.