Where oh where to begin? You know that one living amends I have about... no, no that’s not gonna work. Have you ever noticed that those of us with the disease find each other... no, that’s not it either. Hey, have you... no. Hmm... wait a minute, wait, I got it. I know how to start this blog--with the point. And the point, my readers, is this:
Drama stops when you say it does.
In one of my previous jobs, I worked with a woman I was very attracted to. She was beautiful (of course), way out of my league, and married. I’m sure she was aware of how I felt, but was very good about not teasing me, which looking back is something I really appreciate now.
Working through my steps the first time, another incident--one from my past where I’d had an affair with a married woman--came up on steps 8 & 9. There was no way I could make a direct amends to that woman without causing more harm, so my sponsor suggested a living amends: no more married women. Ever. Period. It’s a good suggestion and one that I have followed.
This living amends has guided me a number of times. For the situation I mentioned above, my plan--in the unlikely event that this woman ever decided she was interested in me--was always to tell her the story of my past, tell her about my living amends, and leave it at that. It never happened, but I have been propositioned by other married women since, and as it turns out, my plan works great when put into action. I’ve stayed true to my living amends.
There are plenty of men out there who would have no problem getting involved with a married woman. To them, having a hot, lonely, gal on their jock is a great thing. I’ve even heard some guys describe it as the ideal relationship because they get everything they need out of it and none of the stuff they don’t.
But the reason I hold on to this living amends... it isn’t because I’m a goody two-shoes or because of some higher moral authority I see myself as holding to. The reasons are really, really practical.
The first is that I won’t get what I need out of a relationship if I’m involved with a woman that’s married. These days, sex is only a minor part of what I need in order to have a fulfilling, satisfying relationship. The second is that I learned my lesson damn well from my experience. A lot of people--not just me--lost a lot because of what I did. Homes were destroyed, careers lost. What I did affected so many more people than just myself.
But the biggest reason, the one that overshadows those first two, is this: I am done with drama. No more. Finished. I have played my part in that production and exited Stage Left.
Those of us with the disease know drama. It’s like a member of the family. Some of us have the hardest time trying to deal with it, trying to rid ourselves of it. Some of us don’t know how to live without it. Some of us never even bother to try.
I’ve spent a lot of energy learning boundaries, working to understand exactly where that line is that defines my side of the street from someone else’s. And you know what I’ve learned? Drama stops when I say it does. Drama stops when I decide for myself to not get involved in other people’s business. It stops when I start allowing other people to be responsible for themselves, their own situations, and their own problems.
Some people don’t know how to live without drama in their lives or in the lives of the people around them--particularly family. Some people have some crazy twisted ideas about what it means to be there for others, and about sacrificing themselves out of guilt or fear.
I’m responsible for me. Period. If I don’t want drama in my life, I can say ‘no’ to it. Maybe other people won’t understand, maybe they’ll even consider me a selfish asshole for making that choice. So what? Someone else’s opinion of me is none of my business. There are plenty of things in life that contribute to unmanageability. Letting go of drama is something I can control, and when I do that, my life becomes more manageable.
I can never make up the harm I caused to the people I hurt. But I like to think that it does mean something that, when given the choice, I’ve made different decisions since.
And hey, I won’t lie; sometimes I still think about that gal I used to work with, her beautiful brown eyes and her thick, black curly hair. But I’m proud of myself that I’ve kept (and continue to keep) my living amends going, because that means more to me than any illicit affair ever could.
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