Where am I and what’s with this horse?

I can’t pinpoint exactly when I realized my struggles went far deeper than simply staying busy or trying to do it all so others would see me as worthy—or so I could see myself as worthy. But I know it had something to do with noticing a powerful quality in recovering alcoholics, a quality that felt like a missing piece in my own life. At first, I thought it was just my friend Will (not his real name) who had somehow stumbled upon this "pot of gold." But as I got to know others in recovery, I realized this thing was big. Way bigger than I had imagined.

So, I started searching. I sought out every recovery story I could find—stories of triumph, of heartbreak, of falling and getting back up again. And through these stories, my suspicions were confirmed. Even though we come from different backgrounds, religions, and experiences, we all suffer. The rich suffer just as much as the poor. The educated as much as the uneducated. The Christians as much as the Muslims. And on and on, into infinity. Listening to these stories revealed something even more personal: like so many others, I was searching outside myself—placing my hopes, my joy, my very sense of worth in the hands of other people.

If you think your spouse has to be happy for you to be happy, you’re giving them your happiness to hold. If you believe your friends must remember your birthday, call you first, or include you in every gathering, you’re tying your happiness to their actions. If you think others need to share your religion, your politics, or your worldview for you to be content, you’re placing your peace on their shoulders. And if you expect your children to validate you for all the love and effort you’ve poured into them, you’re asking them to fill a hole they were never meant to fill. Stop doing that.

The truth is, when people don’t act the way we believe they should, the problem isn’t them—it’s us. We’re responsible for our own happiness. That’s the first step to sobering up the emotional “drunk” inside us: admitting we’re looking to others for what can only come from within.

I once heard a story on a podcast from a recovering alcoholic and I tell it often to illustrate how there’s always a way out, no matter how bad it gets. She spoke about her rock bottom. She’d been drinking every day, from morning until night. One day, after blacking out, she came to and realized she was riding a horse. She had no idea where she was, where the horse had come from, or how she’d gotten there. She flagged down a passing car and asked, “Can you tell me where I am?” The answer? She was 200 miles from home. Two hundred miles! On a horse. And she had no idea how any of it had happened.

Now that’s a funny story, isn’t it? But it’s also deeply sobering. Here’s the deal, friends. My emotions have gotten me into just as much trouble. It’s just that nobody can see my drunk and nobody can see my horse. I’ve been sick in resentment, jealousy, anger, blame, guilt, shame, and bitterness. I’ve blamed my father’s alcoholism for my insecurities, my mother’s codependence for my own. I’ve blamed my siblings for not recognizing things I’ve done for them, my friends for not showing up when I needed them, my husband for not being what I thought he should be, and my children for not meeting my emotional needs. I’ve been so lost in my feelings that I’ve forgotten the most important truth: no one owes me a darned thing.

The only thing that can truly make me whole, that can fill the emptiness inside, is something greater than myself. A power that is all-loving. And that’s the spiritual solution Nia and I are speaking of below.

So here are our first two progressions:

1. Embrace Inner Happiness: Recognize that true happiness comes from within.

2. Shift Attachments: Transform emotional attachments into spiritual solutions.

Nobody “out there” can make us whole. The journey of happiness begins within.