I am worthy of forgiveness right now

One of the most harmful things I was repeatedly taught before joining Tempest was, “Your apology doesn’t mean shit until you get some sober time.” Meaning, I wasn’t deserving of forgiveness until I was, say, six months sober or had completed inventory and step whatever.

At that time I couldn’t get more than 72 consecutive hours of sobriety. Let alone sit with my shame long enough to construct a list of my defects, plus reminisce about every single person I’d hurt while drunk. This way of thinking made me wonder if I would ever be worthy of forgiveness, or anything good in life for that matter.

Luckily, about a year before I joined Tempest, I unexpectedly brought home a 14-pound havapoo dog named Teddy. Those first twelve months together were rough. But he was always there, nuzzled up with his neck on mine, when I woke up from a drinking blackout. He was always there to comfort me. Ted’s sweet little face taught me about a type of forgiveness that I can only describe as unconditional.

His forgiveness was not dependent on sobriety time. His love for me right now is exactly the same as it was on my seemingly endless streak of Day Ones.

Maybe there’s a way to reframe this, “I’m not worthy of shit until I get sober” idea. Maybe it’s okay for my loved ones to have their own (healthy) boundaries while I am using. That makes sense. I am not myself (I am a lying, stealing, unconscious human being) while using.

When I am ready to come back, on my own terms, when I have looked at my past with a less shameful, more compassionate eye, and welcomed a bit of self-forgiveness, then those who are on my team will be there whistling from the bleachers. Or welcoming me with the warmest bear hug.

Forgiveness has to come from within. I am worthy of forgiveness right now. And, in my experience, it doesn’t hurt to have a 14-pound havapoo dog named Ted to remind me of my worthiness every single morning.

Sending slobbery kisses,

Kelsi + Teddy = Telsi

(she/her + he/him) = <3