I’ve always wanted to be liked.
No, that’s not exactly true.
I’ve always wanted to be your favorite. Everyone’s favorite. All the time.
I could quickly read people and become the friend they were looking for, editing my likes and dislikes in accordance with their opinions. I could be funny, serious, the star, second fiddle, whatever the situation called for. I preferred being the person you wanted me to be rather than risk being myself. Why? Because I knew if you discovered the depth of my addictions, you’d be revolted. You’d recoil. You’d leave.
I had a wonderful husband, beautiful home, successful career, and new car. My carefully crafted image had to be upheld, precarious though it was. I hid my shameful secrets for years, until the pain of living with addiction became worse than the fear of others finding out about my addiction. There, in that tiny crack of grace, I somehow found enough courage to ask for help.
These People Are Losers
When I went ...1