The Caramel Center of Transformation

In high school, my friends and I would walk over to the Hecht Co. (a local department store) after the bell rang and take up space in the electronics section in the most obnoxious way.

Our uniform blouses were untucked, and backpacks were slung on one shoulder. Mcdonald's french fries and chocolate shakes in hand, and oh my gosh, we were loud.

We would park ourselves in front of the big screen TVs and catch the last few minutes of General Hospital and then watch Oprah. We lived for Oprah's before and after makeovers of audience members. Some soul nominated by a bestie, partner, or parent. Their story was told on national television, and communal tears wept. Then they were whisked away only to return 45 minutes later completely transformed.

Unrecognizable to their loved ones. Mouths gaping at the magic of bangs and form fitting knits. They were shiny and new, and everything had changed due to proud sponsors L'Oreal and Talbots. Sitting on the cold linoleum floor, we would lock in our conditioning for instant gratification by dipping our fries into our shakes and toasting to the After.

Initially, when I quit drinking, I was angry. I was pissed that sobriety wasn't instant. That it wasn't enough to decide I wanted to quit drinking. That there was no studio audience to cheer over my choice not to order a mimosa at brunch. I was angry that change was slow and hard and tiring and lonely.

I was the Veruca Salt of sobriety—I wanted it now. I wanted to walk behind a curtain and come back out and be changed. I wanted my After.

The daily work of recovery has shifted my mind set about before and after. Touching on my sobriety daily allows me to hang out in the space of the middle. The space of unfolding and evolution.

The space of slow ripening and savored sweetness.

A reminder that I am always in the process of becoming. My story is continuously being written. My truest and most authentic self is revealed in every obstacle I overcome and lessons learned.

I like to call this space, The Caramel Center of Transformation. This is the good part.

And oh my goodness, it is also the very hardest part. It's the sticky part. The gooey, messy, treacly part. The gummed, molasses part. The part where you have to move slowly to keep yourself upright. But also going slow to savor every sugared moment. This is the mess of the middle. And friend, we are strong enough to make our way through. Let's set our sights on the pleasure of becoming.

In celebration of the middle, I offer you this poem:

Caramel and Marrow

We danced around the periphery with fairy wings

Throwing glitter that caught the light

Hips swaying in the shimmer

The tall grass moving with us

Pinkies locked and promises made to step into the center

This was our time

Full moon freedom on a Saturday afternoon

"We can't go over it. We can't go under it."

Sweet chants of childhood cheering us on

Eyes closed. Count to 3. Then leap.

Into the caramel and marrow

The center of the magic

With its swirls and swells and tyrant twisters

And sandbars and shady weeping willows too

We took flight in the mess of the middle

Our dime store wings made of wire and tulle and plastic rhinestones

Fastened to our shoulders with shoestrings

They were strong enough to carry us through

I love you,

Anne Marie