In 2016, in a real dick move, a friend bought me a book for my birthday called Almost Famous Women about women who had almost done great things but totally crashed and burned right before their Moment. She told me the stories in it reminded her of me.
Your essay brought me to tears and put words to The Thing I've been trying to describe to myself and others close to me. The Winters of life in all their glory. Love and respect to you!
I am so grateful you just shared this. Thank you so much, for speaking power and grace and acceptance into so many peoples’ experiences.
The Donohue quote (I recognized it from your previous essay!), is incredibly relevant, again.
This made me tear up:
“I saw the woman I’d been so loathe to be as the one who delivered me instead of the one I wished I never was. I didn’t just forgive her for doing the best she could or whatever thing our Instagram therapists tell us to do, I revered her, washed her feet, prostrated at her strength and endurance and perseverance.”
The person who came before this moment is a bad ass bitch because she made it, she’s alive and awake, and she’s here today to tell the tale.
Wow! Such a great description of your process. It is so hard to appreciate and revere the process itself when one is immersed in it. I am happy for you.
It’s “altar” - 2 a’s. How’s that for a stuck, fucked-up mind? Can’t skip typos/spelling errors.
And yes, I wish I had noticed progress in the down times. I have had so many cravings over this holiday season that I wonder if my brain isn’t permanently damaged from booze and I have never experienced any real sobriety. Here’s to better days and to cutting myself more slack!
I’m laying in bed. So tired. A single mom. No end in sight to carrying boulder after boulder up hill. Thank you for giving me a soft place to land. Because with all of the muscles I’m building they don’t show no one sees. There’s nothing grand here. But I will try to take care of the me who is carrying.
Thank you Holly for your thoughtful words and beautiful story. First, I would like to know (because I always ask a million questions and I feel like you were writing me a personal letter, plus I am a bit nosy) what kind of retreat does Holly Whitaker go on where she's not bombarded by fan-girls? :)
I love that rock! I am picturing you carrying this 10lb rock and I think it's something I would pick too. Even though I do not like to be the center of attention AT ALL, and I am an extroverted introvert, I think the metaphor of this is something to let go, but over exaggerated and a little silly. I also have a very weird sense of humour. :)
Jan 11, 2023·edited Jan 11, 2023Liked by Holly Whitaker
I feel so seen. Thank you for putting this process into words. Life has been so hard and heavy. 2022 was so devastating and gorgeous all at the same time for me—some very painful moments in my professional life which is where I put so much of my self-esteem. I have been working with an incredible therapist and a light bulb went on in my head the other day about what she has been trying to get me to see. I am trying so hard to find myself and untangle it from this idea that I need to build this amazing business to feel I am okay, despite knowing all the chaos that my drive can wreck on my personal life. At home, things have been so hard with my daughter struggling with OCD and anxiety. Last night she texted she was going on a walk, and I asked if I could come. I dropped everything at work, something I would never have considered before. And then on the walk with her, so much clarity happened. I heard a man swearing loudly at someone and my whole body froze. I went back, against her protests, and yelled out asking if everyone is okay and if I needed to call the police.
I grew up amidst DV and the trigger was instantaneous. But it was her reaction, the anxiety caused by my anxiety. I saw the generational trauma so clearly on the sidewalk that I just cried. I saw it all flashing before my eyes, my entire life of scratching to be released from what I was born into. The bulimia, the clamoring for perfection, the striving to be told I am good enough, the drinking, and the deliverance into sobriety where you have to face it all.
Something permanent shifted inside me, an epiphany; but getting to that moment and being the woman that had to carry all of it was so hard. I am shedding this version of myself to become myself. I also need to revere this version for protecting me the only way she knew how until I was ready to take up the next leg of the journey. Thank you, Holly, for all the hard work it must have taken to write this essay, and to get those words out to us, they were so needed. Please forgive me for my ramble. xo
Happy birthday ❤️
This is so fucking good. Thank you for every word. 🙏🏼❤️🎉
Your essay brought me to tears and put words to The Thing I've been trying to describe to myself and others close to me. The Winters of life in all their glory. Love and respect to you!
Hi Holly,
I am so grateful you just shared this. Thank you so much, for speaking power and grace and acceptance into so many peoples’ experiences.
The Donohue quote (I recognized it from your previous essay!), is incredibly relevant, again.
This made me tear up:
“I saw the woman I’d been so loathe to be as the one who delivered me instead of the one I wished I never was. I didn’t just forgive her for doing the best she could or whatever thing our Instagram therapists tell us to do, I revered her, washed her feet, prostrated at her strength and endurance and perseverance.”
The person who came before this moment is a bad ass bitch because she made it, she’s alive and awake, and she’s here today to tell the tale.
Thank you Holly!!! 💛✨
Wow! Such a great description of your process. It is so hard to appreciate and revere the process itself when one is immersed in it. I am happy for you.
Thanks for a beautiful essay. The link to alcoholic cartoon characters is broken though!
Oh honey, this is so gorgeous and powerful. I love you so much. Just wow.
As always, exactly what I needed. Thank you. 🖤💫
Ok ok Holly, having me laughing and then aching at the image of you kissing that rock. I feel so damn lucky to read your words.
Love. Relate. Yes. All of it. <3
It’s “altar” - 2 a’s. How’s that for a stuck, fucked-up mind? Can’t skip typos/spelling errors.
And yes, I wish I had noticed progress in the down times. I have had so many cravings over this holiday season that I wonder if my brain isn’t permanently damaged from booze and I have never experienced any real sobriety. Here’s to better days and to cutting myself more slack!
Thank you, Holly. This is beautiful! I am so grateful for you, your honesty, and your amazing ability to express it.
I’m laying in bed. So tired. A single mom. No end in sight to carrying boulder after boulder up hill. Thank you for giving me a soft place to land. Because with all of the muscles I’m building they don’t show no one sees. There’s nothing grand here. But I will try to take care of the me who is carrying.
Thank you Holly for your thoughtful words and beautiful story. First, I would like to know (because I always ask a million questions and I feel like you were writing me a personal letter, plus I am a bit nosy) what kind of retreat does Holly Whitaker go on where she's not bombarded by fan-girls? :)
I love that rock! I am picturing you carrying this 10lb rock and I think it's something I would pick too. Even though I do not like to be the center of attention AT ALL, and I am an extroverted introvert, I think the metaphor of this is something to let go, but over exaggerated and a little silly. I also have a very weird sense of humour. :)
I feel so seen. Thank you for putting this process into words. Life has been so hard and heavy. 2022 was so devastating and gorgeous all at the same time for me—some very painful moments in my professional life which is where I put so much of my self-esteem. I have been working with an incredible therapist and a light bulb went on in my head the other day about what she has been trying to get me to see. I am trying so hard to find myself and untangle it from this idea that I need to build this amazing business to feel I am okay, despite knowing all the chaos that my drive can wreck on my personal life. At home, things have been so hard with my daughter struggling with OCD and anxiety. Last night she texted she was going on a walk, and I asked if I could come. I dropped everything at work, something I would never have considered before. And then on the walk with her, so much clarity happened. I heard a man swearing loudly at someone and my whole body froze. I went back, against her protests, and yelled out asking if everyone is okay and if I needed to call the police.
I grew up amidst DV and the trigger was instantaneous. But it was her reaction, the anxiety caused by my anxiety. I saw the generational trauma so clearly on the sidewalk that I just cried. I saw it all flashing before my eyes, my entire life of scratching to be released from what I was born into. The bulimia, the clamoring for perfection, the striving to be told I am good enough, the drinking, and the deliverance into sobriety where you have to face it all.
Something permanent shifted inside me, an epiphany; but getting to that moment and being the woman that had to carry all of it was so hard. I am shedding this version of myself to become myself. I also need to revere this version for protecting me the only way she knew how until I was ready to take up the next leg of the journey. Thank you, Holly, for all the hard work it must have taken to write this essay, and to get those words out to us, they were so needed. Please forgive me for my ramble. xo