I have always loved losing myself in stories. For one thing, it was an easy escape hatch to get caught up in another world, to be fully immersed in a fantastic story or a new realm. For another, I could control what I wanted, but also banish what I did not want: to be alone, to feel unloved, to be gay. Good stories have a clear beginning, middle and end. I wanted my life to be a concise, linear story. I saw my brother’s death before I was born as the beginning of my story and finding someone like him to take care of me as the end.
I have been in recovery for four years and it has now truly begun to sink past my thinking-brain to my knowing-heart that although my life may be a story, it was not written by me. With healthy trust in God, I am now able to accept and love myself as I am while still remaining accountable for my actions, and to set my intention on that which I do want.
Now, with grace and ease, I am able to take life as it is, and also as it can be – better than I ever dreamed before. Maybe I won’t live Happily Ever After, but I will live happily ever after.
-Alec B. 1/8/22