You Don't Always Get What You Want

When I first came into OA in August of 2015, I didn't know much, but one thing I noticed was that the people who seemed relatively sane and normal had sponsors.

So I wrote my friend V, a recovering alcoholic and Alanon and asked her how the whole sponsor thing works. Should I rush to get a sponsor and worry less about finding the exact right fit? Should I wait until I get to know someone well enough to know for sure that they have what I want? How on earth was I supposed to choose? What if I made a mistake? It had taken me seven years of dating before I agreed to marry my husband, and now I was just supposed to essentially propose to a sponsor?

Her emailed reply:

As far as a sponsor no hard and fast right or wrong answer. You can always ask someone to be your temporary sponsor (very common) and see how it goes. Like a trial run. Sponsors have been critical for me and super helpful-- I've had a number of different ones over the years based on my needs at the time. It has sped up my growth & progress for sure. Sponsor isn't exactly a friend- more someone to help with accountability. Here's my actual advice you may laugh at: pray about it. Every time I have, the next right person has come along.

I didn't laugh; I rolled my eyes, HARD.  Praying for things was something the ladies in my church did while clutching at tissues they'd shoved up their polyester sleeves. Praying was for people who were totally hopeless and preferred putting faith in a mythical, imaginary being over taking control over their own destiny.

At the same time, something nagged at me. Here I was, sobbing pretty regularly in a 12-step meeting. Taking control of my own destiny wasn't working out so well for me.

That night, I took her advice and prayed half-heartedly and distractedly, rolling my eyes at myself, and making a handy little list of what I was looking for in a sponsor: someone under age 45, married with kids, a professional working woman, thin, beautiful, successful, and non-religious.

A woman's name came to my mind instantly: A

A is an older woman, lovely, peaceful, and serene. Okay, I'm being polite. She's not just "older," she is actually just OLD--white, thinning hair; walks with a walker; advanced osteoporosis. In fact, she's so old, she gave up driving voluntarily! I knew that although she'd never married and didn't have children, she did live with a longtime "roommate" who I assumed was her life partner, but just from a generation where people didn't talk about such things.

It nagged at me that she was also one of the first people to come talk to me at my first meeting. She gave me a huge hug and said, "I hope we see you again tomorrow!" She went to meetings four days a week. She had a quiet voice, and in every single meeting spoke words of such kindness and wisdom that it bowled me over. Compassion shone from her like rays of sunlight. She was in constant pain and had a lot of physical ailments, but she was always positive.

Still, she did not fit the bill for me. So I said, "no thanks, God, let's try someone else that is a little closer to the the order I placed."

Another prayer my friend V had given me was, "God, please hit me over the head with a two-by-four and send me a very obvious sign, for I am very slow, and my skull is very thick." So that night, after praying for a sponsor, I also prayed what I think of now as the "two-by-four prayer," and moved on with my evening.

I thought about her all night. I was resistant to her specifically, but I was also resistant to the idea of a sponsor in general.  I heard stories on the Los Angeles speaker podcast of people whose sponsors made them call every morning at 5 a.m.!  I didn't want to commit my food to someone else, and I didn't want to get any more strict with myself than I already was (which granted, wasn't very strict). I didn't want anyone to tell me I had to give up anything other than sugar. I didn't want to be bossed around.

First thing the next morning, she called me out of nowhere! Since she doesn't drive, she relies on rides to meetings and her usual ride wasn't available, so she wanted to know if I could pick her up and take her to the Wednesday meeting we both usually attended.

I took it as my sign.

As we drove to the meeting, I asked her nervously what a temporary sponsor did, and she explained it was just someone who helped you get started while you looked for someone more long term. I worked up my nerve to ask her if she'd be my temporary sponsor, and she immediately agreed, delighted, generous, warm.

Get this. She's a nun. I asked for a young, non-religious wife and mother, and I got an 87-year old nun. That woman she lives with? It's one of her sisters, not her secret lesbian lover. She was apparently part of an order and lived in a cloister for the first twenty years. Then she and some of her sisters (including her roommate) decided they didn't want men making all their rules for them, so they broke off and joined an order that doesn't own property and doesn't report to the bishop. I love it. I love her.

I felt this tremendous sense of peace descend as soon as I knew I had her in my corner. She radiates calm, inner peace. She was my sponsor for the first six months, until I decided I needed someone who I could text, and she doesn't even own a cell phone. Let me tell you, it is not easy to break up with an 88-year old nun. I was very scared. But she handled it with grace and love, just as she handles everything else.

She was exactly what I needed as a newcomer to OA. She didn't make me call her every day, and she didn't make me give up any foods I wasn't ready to give up. She taught me radical self-acceptance. She taught me that beating up on myself as a way to enforce better behavior hadn't worked. She said just try to be as kind and gentle with yourself as you would be with a small child who was trying to learn how to read. You wouldn't yell and scream and shame them if they stumbled. You would say, "you're trying so hard! You're doing so well! Let's try again."

So she may not be young and skinny and married and corporate, but she has what I want: serenity, peace, willingness, and non-judgment.

I have since met or heard many sponsors who do fit my original concept of what I want in a sponsor, at least physically, but they don't seem happy. When I meet someone who identifies as recovered and yet they consider themselves the arbiter of who else is or isn't recovered, who else is or isn't working a good program, who else is or isn't at goal weight, etc., that is not someone I am drawn too, even if they look perfect on the outside. I believe this is what my higher power was teaching me by sending me my sweet nun as my first sponsor. I've had a number of different sponsors since, and none of them have met even one-third of the requirements I initially listed. What they have all had in common is that they live happy, peaceful, fulfilled lives. And that is what I want today.