Day 73: One Good Slice Deserves Another

Pie.

I love it. I love every single thing about it.

This holiday season, I’ve been able to enjoy my passion: pastry making. While I’ve always managed to make the traditional pies of the season, even when I was rip-roaring drunk, this year, it’s different. I’m totally involved, present, and on a roll. I want to bake things for everyone I know.

As I’m being reawakened to my own life in sobriety, I’m also seeing the things that I hadn’t seen before. Seeing where I stopped listening to my heart and started listening to that alcoholic voice that told me all my dreams and aspirations were unachievable. And, no matter how unlikely or far-fetched they may have seemed, I should never have let go of those dreams. The truth is, I could’ve been a baker. I still can be. But, somewhere along the way, I talked myself out of it.

I convinced myself that so many things I wanted and dreamed about just weren’t possible. And, as I stand here, in this new holiday season, my mindset a blank slate of possibility, making pie, I realize just how far I’ve really come. How, despite the low self esteem that still nags at me from time to time, I truly believe that I can do whatever I want to do. That, if I just take a chance and have faith, it can be done.

As I catch myself having these thoughts, I kinda have to pinch myself. I’ve spent so much of my life avoiding situations because I was so sure that I would fail. Truly convinced. Paralyzed by fear. And, by the time I got to adulthood, when most, normal people start making things happen for themselves, I was helplessly and hopelessly tied to a man in whom I lost my own identity. I gave up the things I loved and cared about, because I was sure that whatever he loved and cared about was worth more. As it turned out, I bet on the wrong horse. But, the thing is, you can go back to the races.

So, I’m not sure how I’m going to commence. And, maybe I’ll never be a baker for business, but, as I stand here making dough, mixing filling, and painting buttery crusts with egg wash, it’s more the fact that I could do it, if that’s what I really wanted. It’s a feeling I’ve been without for so long. It makes me feel whole in a way that I’m not sure I remember ever having felt. Something is welling up in me, filling me with something beyond the spirit of the holidays or even sobriety.

It’s confidence. It’s love of something beyond another person, or even yourself. It’s a love of potential. A feeling that, finally, the future is bright. And, the fact that it’s yet to be written is of no matter or consequence. It’s out there. And, I just have to reach out and grasp for the rolling pin of my dreams.

So, tonight, I’m baking pies. It’s a slice that stirs my heart. And, one good slice deserves another.

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