I'm grateful for people who come back and keep at it even when they don't feel great. I'm grateful for having a quiet and productive day while my dog is away in daycare. I'm grateful for reconnecting with my cousin who is visiting from out of town, delving honestly into our pasts, and celebrating how we survived. I'm grateful when family meets me with love and no judgement. I'm grateful for taking it slow on my run to let my knee heal. I'm grateful to visit a new part of Denver and not let the traffic rile me up. I'm grateful for sober friendships and how they help rebuild my confidence. I'm grateful for seeing the beautiful Rocky Mountains daily during my run and drives around the city. I'm grateful how being an alcoholic in this Program has opened up the world to me in ways I never could imagine.
One of my favorite new meetings, where I have also taken a service position, is a BIPOC meeting here in Denver. From what I've researched and what I've been told by fellows in it, this BIPOC meeting is the first and only one of its kind in the area.
I've found the space to be exceptionally warm and welcoming in a uniquely different way. While I've loved all my meetings in Denver - everybody has been incredibly kind and compassionate - I do miss the diversity of NYC. It has felt freeing to be surrounded by BIPOC fellows who I have an added connection to beyond alcoholism. We include topics in our discussions that I typically don't hear elsewhere: What cultural history do we carry with us as we delve into our addictions? How have daily micro aggressions impacted our drinking? What varied judgements do we face from society as our addictions are showcased publicly? The shares have complex layers to them that in other places might feel taboo, but are encouraged in this space. As such I feel like I can relate on an even more intimate level when fellows talk about their experience, strength, and hope.
Another speciality meeting I frequent a few blocks from me is targeted to LGBTQIA+ individuals. Here it's also revelatory to hear folks discuss how their sexuality impacted their drinking. Concealing our identities from family, friends, and even ourselves, questioning our place in an often hostile society, having debilitating shame for something that is so innately a part of the human condition - all these feelings, while universal to alcoholics, when addressed in a specific fashion by LGBTQIA+ fellows brings me an added sense of awareness and understanding of why I drank, how I got out of it, and what I need to continue doing to stay on the beam as my life expands.
I am truly grateful that these spaces exist in AA. In my early sober days I was desperately trying to find ways to feel separate: "I see no POCs here", "Where are the gays?", "I'm the only 30-year old", "Is nobody in the same profession?", etc. Getting to meetings that forced me to confront honestly my reasons for believing I'm different were key to melting away my prejudices. Nowadays I can relate to every alcoholic since we have a shared common language. However with these specialty meetings it helps not having to mitigate or to divorce my ethnicity, my sexuality, or whatever else from my journey when I'm in the rooms. It's a safe space where I can bring all of me to the table in an effort to better my sobriety.
The foresight AA's founders had to keep the language of this Program inclusive and open is such a gift. It took me a little while to discover these special interest meetings, but when I found them it felt like a warm hug. I'm glad AA has evolved into a place so broad and welcoming that it allows for all kinds of communities to share in the magic of the 12 Steps. You can be from whatever walk of life and find purpose and peace here.