One night, Kid Qualifier #1 came over to the house tipsy and decided it would be fun to walk around on the roof.

Drunk. In the dark. (At least he kept his clothes on.) After a few minutes, I figured out I wasn’t going to be able to talk him down. This not being my first rodeo, I knew getting upset would only make things worse. I did a quick Step 1-2-3, prayed, and turned him over to his Higher Power. Serenity Prayer, activate!

Soon he got lonely up there by himself, and with the persistence that only a drunk with a bad idea can have, he wanted his sister and me to climb up and hang out on the roof with him.

Um, yeah, no way. We both said no, at first. But he wouldn’t let up. His sister eventually gave in, against her own better judgement, and went up on the roof with him. I didn’t like it, but I can’t say no for another adult–which she is–and that made it none of my business. Not being able to say no is her pattern to break. Serenity Prayer at double speed now.

But he was still unhappy that I wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t let up, and I wouldn’t give in, and things were getting tense. I sent up an SOS prayer: Lord, help.

It’s okay if…

I’m sure some wise old-timer or therapist came up with this phrase long ago; there’s nothing new in program. But that night, it felt like a direct download from my HP. Suddenly the words came: “It’s okay if I don’t want to get on the roof.”

Every time he pressed, I repeated: “It’s okay if I don’t want to get on the roof.” “It’s okay if I want to stay down here.” Nice and calm (thank you, Lord). And after a few repeats, the tension eased. It wasn’t personal that I didn’t want to get on the roof. The rest of the night passed without the involvement of the health care system or law enforcement, which, in active alcoholism, is a good night.

Fast forward a couple of weeks: He calls to tell me he wants to try rehab. We agree on a time for me to pick him up. He’s not ready, and I wait. And wait. And wait. Hours pass. Finally he texts me, but when I get to his apartment, he’s not packed, he’s not dressed, he’s got a dozen things to finish up before he can go. He can’t find his shoe, for f@#k’s sake.

It takes every ounce of program I have to keep my mouth shut. Do you know how late it is? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting? You said you’d be ready. What do you mean, you can’t find your shoe?! You’re 25 years old! By a complete miracle, I say none of it. I don’t sigh, I don’t tap my foot, I don’t offer to help. I wait. He senses it, though. He can always see through me, drunk or sober. And he says:

“It’s okay if I’m nervous about this.”

BOOM. My own words, right back at me. He’s totally right. It is okay for him to be scared. I was so relieved he was willing to go, I forgot it didn’t feel that way to him. He’s admitting his life is unmanageable, going into the unknown. My pretend patience gave way to some compassion.

Those words got me through that night in the hospital lobby: It’s okay if I’m tired. It’s okay if this takes awhile. It’s okay if I’m anxious. It’s okay…

It’s okay if…

It took me way longer, though, to realize their full power. It took a long time because up to that point I’d spent at least 99% of my life thinking that my feelings were the enemy. I stuffed them, ignored them, denied them, and beat myself up for having them. As if they were some sort of shameful disability I had to keep hidden, instead of a normal human function.

Feelings are problems. That was the message of my childhood, and I learned it well. After approximately a jillion instances of seeing others’ feelings respectfully received in meetings, and a ton of loving kindness from my sponsor, and a few more miracles too long to tell here, something shifted. Maybe my feelings weren’t the problem; maybe the way I handled them was the problem.

Fast forward through the years it took for me to be able to even identify how I felt. Awareness had to come first. But those three words are the bridge for me between awareness and acceptance when it comes to feelings. They started popping up more and more:

• It’s okay if I don’t know what to say.
• It’s okay if I don’t know how to fix this.
• It’s okay if I don’t have the answer.
• It’s okay if I need to end this conversation.
• It’s okay if I’m a little upset right now.
• It’s okay if I need some time to process this.
• It’s okay if I feel a little shaky.
• It’s okay if I feel __________ (fill in the blank with the feeling I’m trying to stuff).

Every time, it feels like a nudge from my Higher Power: Hey, remember, it’s okay. Making this a regular part of my toolbox is still a work in progress. Sharing it with you will help me remember to take it out and use it. Maybe it’ll be something you can use too.

Share your favorite “It’s okay if…” in the comments. What helps you the most?

Keep coming back!