Always Us

family business pt. ii

Olivia walked out onto the stage right as her mom and Spencer were attempting to quietly usher the children into the first row of folding chairs. Her little humans—all dressed up, hair in place, faces clean—present to witness one of her proudest accomplishments. She fought a grimace as the realization hit her. Spencer had been right. It would've crushed her to not have them there.

The kids settled into their seats, (well, most of them. Gianna slid back out of her chair and walked two seats over. The scalloped edge of her knit cardigan shot up her back as she beckoned her older sister to pick her up. Thankfully, Sienna didn't object, and the night was allowed to continue without disruption), and the small crowd of attendees faded into the background. Her mom held onto Caleb's hand while his head found a comfortable spot on her shoulder. Jackson shoved his hands under his thighs, swinging his legs freely. Sienna hugged her sister tight to her chest. And Spencer held his gaze steady on her, like no one else in the room existed. A tear surprised her by slipping from the corner of her eye.

"I had a joke lined up to start with, but I guess crying works, too."

A synchronized chuckle rumbled through the crowd as she gently pressed a knuckle to her tear ducts, praying that her makeup would stay in place.

She took a deep breath and started again, skipping over her original icebreaker. "I wear several hats." She paused, finally making eye contact with her guests. "To many, I'm a journalist. To a handful of little people, I'm mom. To one, I'm a wife. But the hat that I've worn longer than any of those is that of an addict. I was sixteen years-old when I started taking pills to ease the pain, the loneliness, the hurt. Honestly, I tried to numb any and every feeling that I felt. Because of that, I was sent away to rehab, and then I came back, fixed. Brand new, good to go." She smiled down at her hands, calm and still on the podium. "I went to meetings. I had a sponsor. I did the steps. And still, I relapsed." She laughed quietly. "I picked a new vice the second time around. Alcohol. Even after all the work, I still couldn't handle life. Couldn't get a grip. It was too much."

The silence of the room drew her gaze back up. All eyes were rapt on her. Even her twins' attention didn't falter. Did they understand the depth of what she was saying? Probably not. But in a few years, she'd explain with a little more detail and a lot of care, like she had with Jackson. Then a couple years after that, she'd go a little deeper. Whether Sienna, at thirteen, fully grasped her journey, she wasn't sure. But she promised herself that she would never hide this part of her from those she loved, and that included her kids. She wanted them to be proud of all of her.

"At first, I denied the relapse. It felt easier that way. I thought I could pretend it wasn't happening again. That I could just fix it myself before it became really bad. Before I actually hurt anyone. But eventually, I had to realize that I'd ruin everything that was beautiful in my life if I didn't seek help.

"I was lucky. I had people who supported me. Financial means. A brilliant sponsor. It's been twenty years since I last tried to deny that part of myself." Several stray claps shoved themselves between her words. "My journey wasn't unique. I've learned that in the past several years working with teenagers. I see a lot of myself in them, and in that reflection, I see hope.

"Creativity and the arts were an integral part of my recovery. They still are. Having a creative outlet allowed me to express myself when words felt too hard. Dancing lessened the load I was carrying, even by just a little. But that little made a big difference. I would have killed for a place like this at seventeen. Somewhere to escape to. Somewhere to feel understood.

"My biggest hope for everyone who passes through these halls is that you feel safe here. That if even for just one hour, your mind eases a little. That you're able to express yourself without worry and let your feelings run free and unencumbered.