I’ve been putting off an honest conversation with Mr. California, sitting my parents down to explain why I don’t want to move to Florida, and completing Step 9 of my AA amends with my two best friends in New York City. The list goes on and on.
And then there’s the usual stuff — cleaning out drawers, doing a deep clean through all my junk, exercising, eating better. That list could stretch to the moon.
So why am I putting so much off?
I’m starting to understand my procrastination more and more these days — and the truth is, about 90% of it is emotional. Facing feelings about people, or having hard conversations, is really hard for me. I catch myself thinking, maybe they’ll just forget, and I can pretend none of it ever happened. But that’s not how life works, and I know it.
If I keep avoiding the truth with Mr. California, I’m only setting myself up to get hurt — because I keep pouring in everything and getting almost nothing back. If I don’t have an honest conversation with my parents about not wanting to go to Florida, I could end up alone here in North Carolina during another manic episode, with no one to help me this time. And as for my friends in New York — they deserve a real amends from the bottom of my heart after all I put them through.
My sponsor and I have even hit a wall. I’ve been stuck on Step 9 for months now, circling the same emotional ground, and it’s keeping me from moving forward in my recovery. I’m nearing five years sober, but lately, that “dry drunk” mentality has been creeping in — all the old thinking, none of the bottles. And truthfully, it’s been far too long since I’ve been to a meeting.
These emotional barriers that keep me from doing what I need to do feel like heavy stones I keep tripping over. But I’m done just staring at them.
I have a plan.
🌹 The Courage Plan
(for the hard, emotional conversations that matter)
1. Recognize: It’s Not Fear of Conflict — It’s Fear of Loss
I’m not afraid of the words. I’m afraid of what those words might do.
I fear losing connection, approval, belonging — or the fantasy that things could stay comfortable.
But silence is never peace; it’s just an ache waiting for a voice.
“Telling the truth may cost me peace in the moment, but silence is costing me my soul.”
2. Name the Truth I’m Trying to Protect
Every difficult conversation guards something sacred.
Ask myself:
“What truth am I honoring by saying this?”
- With Mr. California, it’s: “I need to feel emotionally safe, not uncertain.”
- With my parents, it’s: “I need autonomy and to honor my boundaries.”
- With my NYC friends, it’s: “I want to repair what I broke and meet love with humility.”
“When I finally figure out why I’m speaking, my courage will find its rhythm.“
3. Plan for Peace, Not Perfection
I won’t wait for flawless phrasing. That’s fear dressed as preparation.
I have to make notes, not a script. The heart never sounds polished — it sounds real.
“I’m not here to control how they react — only to speak what’s true, with love.”
4. Choose Timing and Setting with Care
Truth deserves a safe container, my sponsor stresses this a lot.
I can’t ambush anyone mid-stress and I can’t corner myself either.
I need to find the moment that breathes — not the one that breaks.
Maybe I can send a message like “Can I share something that’s been on my heart?” to open the door gently.
But when will I actually do this? NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT. (First message will be sent at the conclusion of this blog post).
5. Practice with Compassion
I think rehearsing out loud will help greatly.
Once with all my tears, then again calmly, then again as if I were comforting my past self.
By the third time, it will feel less like breaking — and more like healing.
6. Hold Space for the Fallout
Even the gentlest truth can land clumsily, I have to be prepared for that.
I have to have my after-care ready: a walk, a prayer, a song, a friend who knows what this will cost me. (definitely texting the bestie).
“Courage shakes the body. I need to treat it like recovery, not failure.“
7. Anchor Back to Love
At their core, these conversations — the ninth-step amends, the “no” to family pressure, the truth I need to tell Mr. California — all rise from love.
“I’m doing this because I love you, and because I’m learning to love myself too.”
That single line can soften any storm.
We don’t postpone hard things — we postpone feeling things.
But when we finally face them, we reclaim power we didn’t know we’d lost.
Courage is rarely loud. Sometimes it’s a trembling voice saying,
“This is who I am now.”
And that, right there, is the beginning of peace.
Stay Tuned.
An Inspired Odyssey Through✨️Ink & Stardust✨️ 