newly sober: sponsors, how to find one and how to break up with one
if you do not go to recovery meetings or have a sponsor, there’s still nuggets of wisdom in here for you. recovery rooms and sponsors just taught me how to be a person— a little hack for life. however, if you stay sober without either of those things or just have normal brain chemistry, i am in awe of you i was barely hanging on for the two days i was sober before entering the rooms— the people and the support i’ve found have shaped me into a person i could even conceive of becoming. and i’m still growing. (and i still fuck up). however, all of this is to say: whatever works for you is rad. just here to share my experience because i keep encountering folks who need permission to break up with their sponsors, and i’ve broken up with four. and so, without further a do
~*~a tale of five sponsors~*~
once i was “struck sober” — having had a lose-your-self-style-panic attack on a patch of grass at an Alabama gas station an hour outside of New Orleans — i was told i should check out a recovery meeting and find a sponsor.
according to the internet, “A sponsor is simply a mentor or a guide who has been in recovery and worked through the steps and no longer has to drink or use”
i had no idea how to find a sponsor. i was just told that they should “have what you want.” i had no idea what i wanted, so i set out to find out.
my first recovery meeting was a twenty-four hour marathon meeting in West Hollywood on Christmas Eve 2021. before leaving the house, i had started bawling, panicked because my family had left for a Christmas party without saying bye to me. i sobbed the entire drive their, clutching onto my steering wheel, afraid i’d magically slip into a high because i only knew what it felt like to be high. by the end of the 24 hour marathon, i had stayed so long— and there were so few people left— that i was asked to read the meeting script for the final meeting of the day. really, this isn’t a big deal. but to friends who i reported to after, who were not in the rooms, it sounded like i was being indoctrinated into a cult. in a way, i was. but they weren’t taking anything from me (except donations if i was willing and able). they were helping me find my sanity. they were giving me back to me.
when i got home, my dad walked up to my bathroom and said: “That was a brave thing to do, going out on Christmas Eve.” and he beamed at me in a way that he never had before— even when i landed double-double combos in competition, got diplomas from prestigious universities, or landed a punchline to a funny joke.
so, i went back Christmas Day.
upon entering the meeting room, i saw someone who had what i wanted speaking: he wore blue round frames and had a quick wit. he doled out advice while making us laugh. he was a middle-aged man who had been a club kid in NYC during the eighties. i promptly walked up to him after the meeting and proclaimed, “I want you to be my sponsor— you have what I want.” But he was all, “eh… I can be your temporary sponsor. I’m single, you’re single— it’s not a good idea. But just until you find a girl, I can do it.” i didn’t understand— i was so traumatized, so shell-shocked. my body frozen by the trauma of my bottom, i forgot myself as a sexual entity. but i now know he was right. had he lasted longer, who knows what weird thing i would have started.
the next day, i went to an in-person meeting that would become my home group, and upon sitting down, i opened my notebook, pen poised in hand, ready to hear seeds of wisdom. i was gonna be the best student because i had always been the best student and being the best student was the only thing i knew how to do— not drinking or smoking weed, i did not. the woman sitting next to me whispered, “I can be your sponsor,” and then she wrote her name and number in my notebook. she offered to go through the Doctor’s Opinion with me right afterwards at a coffee shop. i left a voicemail on my temporary male sponsor’s voicemail, and he called me back to say he was happy for me— to keep in touch. and i have.
there were moments of synchronicity with Sponsor #2: she had been a part of Second City (like me) and Julia Cameron, the author of “The Artist’s Way”, had been her sponsor (for a summer). it felt like synchronicity. but when i’d call her, when i needed her, she wouldn’t pick up. and when she did, she’d call me PaulinE. i knew this was not what i wanted— that maybe, i should be discerning. not just let the sponsor choose me.
i found myself on an virtual international twenty-four hour women’s meeting, and they happened to be having a Sponsorship meeting. i heard two women speak who had what i wanted. i called one, no spark. the other was exactly what i was looking for: disciplined, book focused, long-term sobriety. she had other people interested, and marketed herself as hard to get. i love hard to get, so i knew i had to get her.
Sponsor #3 helped me break up with Sponsor #2, another voicemail left (as a formerly confrontational fear-avoidant, this was a relief). Sponsor #2 sent me a text and called me PaulinE, once again.
Sponsor #3 was ready to set to work— and so was i. she sent me worksheets that her sponsor had typed up on a typewriter in a log cabin in the rural south twenty years ago. i felt a part of a long lineage, a steadfast tradition, and i was ready to good student the shit out of my homework.
however, it quickly soured: Sponsor #3 didn’t want me to identify as a marijuana addict (“Saying you’re an addict and an alcoholic is like saying you’re a German Shepard Dog”), she didn’t want me to go to meetings that weren’t alcohol focused, and she added, that she could cure me of my eating disorder. in short: she wanted me to make her my God Almighty. and as someone who has been trapped in cultic dynamics where i was asked to pledge blind allegiance in a similar way, it felt familiar and it felt wrong. i didn’t want familiar, and because i wasn’t stoned, i could recognize how familiar felt wrong.
i called her, she picked up. i broke up with her with integrity— for the first time ever— having practiced on voicemails twice before. “Wow,” she said. she told me she was surprised, that she wasn’t expecting this. she also added that i wouldn’t be successful. that she had seen people like me before, and they don’t stay sober like she had. she insinuated that i could come crawling back, when i fail. i felt like shit, but then i resolved to prove her wrong.
next, i outsourced: someone i respect and admire in my community set me up with my next sponsor. Sponsor #4 was an artist based in Santa Cruz who surfed daily, and we hit it off immediately. she would be the longest sponsor i had had up until that point. we zoomed weekly to go through the Big Book and i called her daily— she helped me finally stumble to my feet.
but there came a point when i was tired of screens and i couldn’t stare at my computer or phone anymore; i needed someone local. and on my day 90 — after doing 90 meetings in 90 days — i heard someone speak about her alcoholism, love addiction, and codependency, and she was making eye contact with me the whole time. whether she did so on purpose, i don’t know. but she was definitely talking (about) to me.
i found out who her sponsor was, walked up to her sponsor, and asked, “Will you sponsor me?” and that woman has been my sponsor ever since. she intimidated me, but i knew it was right. a friend has suggested i ask her on day 3, but i wasn’t ready yet. i had to go through the gamut of sponsors to know what i wanted, to be ready to commit to the right fit.
and that woman i heard speak on on my day 90? she is my sober sister now, and i call her almost every day. she had what i wanted, i asked her how she got it, and here i am, today: happy, sober, and at ease.
all of this is to say: i’ve had a lot of sponsors in my short time being sober. however, i was more discerning about finding a sponsor than i ever have been in my dating life— it wasn’t about what i found sexy (emotional unavailability, lack of self-awareness, general incompetency), but instead about staying sober. i couldn’t afford to let my Broken Picker run the show.
which is why i like to say:
You should be more discerning about picking a sponsor than you are in your dating life.
when you enter recovery rooms, they tell you to find a sponsor—they don’t give you much more direction than that. there’s a pamphlet i found, but it’s also sort of vague. but really they are asking you to find a mentor. someone to take you through the twelve steps.
i’ve had brilliant mentors and teachers throughout my life, but those people stumbled into my life by accident— i did not bring them in by choice. i’ve also had horrible teachers, and they wielded powers of destruction. however, unlike a shitty homeroom teacher, with a sponsor: you have choice. you fire and hire these people. not for pay, but for free. they give you suggestions that work for them, they take you to the text when you spew a stupid problems at them, and they teach you how to be a sober person of dignity and grace.
i have yet to be a sponsor, so i can only speak to the experience of finding my own sponsor. however, when i start sponsoring, i imagine i will have a thought or two to share *stay tuned!*
without further a do, this is the advice i wish i had been given when i first got sober.
Rules of the Road: How To Find A Sponsor
They Have What You Want
is it their clear-eyed stare? a general ease and lightness? are they serious and steadfast? joyful and funny? allow yourself to drift towards people that feel right— if you feel drawn to them, that’s a great first step! if you like what you hear them say, ask for their number. trust your gut. you are honing your intuition— learning how to listen to it (which is hard after years of actively avoiding it).
How Do They Work Their Program?
how many meetings do they attend? one a day? one a week? do they have service commitments? how do they interact with fellows? do they share in meetings? and when they do, do they make sense? these are all things to ask yourself while sussing-out a potential sponsor. although my sponsor dresses amazingly and that definitely piqued my interest, it is how she works her program that interested me the most. it’s the light she shines is from the inside out— her wardrobe is merely a fun bonus.
Longterm Sobriety
yes, they should have what you want. but more important than that, they need to have been sober for a while. i recommend finding someone with more than a year sober. if you can’t find that, a temporary sponsor will do til you find the one
You Don’t Have To Have A Lot In Common
unlike dating, you don’t have to share all of the same values to have a successful relationship. however, the only value you do have to share in common is your desire to stay sober and to work a good program. sobriety is your common goal, and other things don’t apply. keep pizza shop rules: don’t talk politics or religion— unless that is incredibly important to you. however, be open to the fact that they may have what you want and still not be aligned in those departments. look for the similarities, not the differences.
Are Their Demands Reasonable?
do they suggest a program of recovery that they themselves follow? or do they demand full-allegiance? but do note: if you don’t like what they suggest because it’s inconvenient, that’s probably a good thing. they’re going to suggest things that you don’t want to do sometimes, and it will help you grow AND keep you sober. however, if they ask you to do something that feels exploitive, destructive, or plain-old wrong, that’s bad, bad, bad.
Trustworthiness
getting sober is the process of learning to trust your OWN instincts— check in with your gut. are they trustworthy? do you find it easy to talk to them? do you want to call them or do you dread it? do you see yourself getting to a point where you could open up to them? do they gossip behind people’s backs or do they encourage you to say the sick man’s prayer when you complain about somebody?
Don’t Ignore Red Flags
just because they’re sober doesn’t mean they’re not crazy. if they lecture to you about how evolution didn’t happen and you believe in evolution, and also you’re supposed to be doing step work, pay attention. if things feel insane, listen to that. you don’t have to believe in the same things, but if their tirades/lack of focus or lack of boundaries put your sobriety at stake, in that you feel insane, scared, or avoidant, it is not a match. if their beliefs ring of general insanity, politely excuse yourself as quickly as possible.
Nothing Is Forever
much like with romantic relationships, sponsorship relationships can end. you’re trying to find the right fit— and if it’s not right, it never will be. just because they got you through yesterday, doesn’t mean they will get you through today.
However, DON’T GO WITHOUT A SPONSOR
BEFORE YOU BREAK UP WITH YOUR SPONSOR, LINE UP THE NEXT ONE. THIS IS NOT CHEATING— YOUR SOBRIETY IS AT STAKE. in the early days, it is important to have as much support as possible. do not — I REPEAT: DO NOT GO WITHOUT A SPONSOR.
your new [even temporary!] sponsor can even help you break up with your old sponsor. ask for suggestions of what to say or ask if you can call them after it happens. if they’re a sponsor worth their salt, they’ll ask you to call them after anyways.
End Things With Integrity
we give for fun and for free. this person, crazy or not, gave you their time and precious energy— finite resources! we don’t detonate things anymore. we don’t set fires so that we can run away from the flame as it licks our heels. we are learning to do things differently, and even though it’s scary to be vulnerable and honest, it is in the uncomfortable zone that we grow.
POTENTIAL SCRIPT: I really want to thank you for the time and energy you have spent in helping me go through the Big Book/find meetings/ answered my phone calls/ helped me find solutions to my problems. However, I’m interested in having someone else sponsor me/I am interested in going in a different direction with my sobriety. Thank you for all of your help.
if they react poorly— then your gut instinct was right! they’re just plain wrong, wrong, wrong. if they’re a sober person who works a good program, they’ll say something like “No problem!” or “Good luck!” or “Stay in touch— feel free to call if you ever need!” if they make you feel like shit then they are def-o a shit sponsor and you win! your gut is right. your intuition is getting honed.
Get To Work
if you don’t change, your sobriety date will. you can’t stay clean on yesterday’s shower. get to work, young lass. there’s sobriety to chase, and you’ve got someone by your side, who can help you do it, one day at a time.
