Five years living in the light.
One, two, three, four, five years of showing up to and for myself, those around me, and this beautiful, burning, bruised, bright earth we are all so fucken honoured to call our home.
This summer I read Waithera Sebatindira’s THROUGH AN ADDICT’S LOOKING GLASS which uprooted every colonial, capitalist, heteronormative idea I held on my addiction—addiction in general— and led me towards a new, radically transformative relationship with my own sobriety, particularly in the language I use around my addiction. For the first time since I stopped drinking I have started to refer to myself as a recovering addict, rather than a sober person, and oh my heart has this changed me in ways I am only beginning to process.
Every time this date comes around I am floored by
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