20 Years of Running from Myself.

Booze, Men, Advertising Jobs, and hair dye helped me run from myself for 2 decades.

I was a bright young girl. Smart, funny, tall and athletic, and pretty. But after my father died of an overdose/suicide I became a very complicated young woman at age 11.

Christmas time, 3 months after my father overdosed.

I internalized my fathers death as something I had done wrong. That I hadn’t made him happy enough, that I wasn’t a “good enough girl”, and that if I had been better, he would have stayed alive for me.

I now know that is a load of crap and that addicts can only save themselves. But at that point I was young, emotional, and so sad.

So I decided to become the best swimmer in the goddamn world.

I had been super talent in the pool — from 8 years old on it was clear that this was something I was good at. I was always fastest in my age group, and fastest in my region of the US. But once my father overdosed, I started to use swimming as a way to prove that I was worthy, that I was good enough to stay alive on the planet. I won race after race, and leveled up to the highest ranks: I won state my freshman year, I won Jr. Nationals, and final-ed in every one of my races at Sr. Nationals.

My friend Nick and I at Olympic Trials.

In my senior year of high school I qualified for Olympic Trials in 4 different events. I received over 100 scholarship offers from various colleges — from Stanford to Princeton to Notre Dame. I chose Northwestern to be close to my mom who lived in St. Louis, and because it was a full ride to an education I never dreamed of.

I never made it to the Olympics my senior year (although I did final at Olympic Trials). And once I got to college, the pressure of an academic powerhouse like Northwestern mixed with D1 athletics turned my inner drive into unmanageable anxiety.

In college, I used bulimia to cope with the feelings of stress and unbelonging in a collegiate society that was full of rich, smart kids. I made it through the 4 years of school with a 3.8, but never reached much further in swimming than I did my senior year of high school. I barely made it out of college alive actually, and one of our dear teammates, Eugene, died of overdose/suicide during this time of stress, school, and swimming.

At my last Big 10 champs, I hung up my swim suit (or trashed it), and decided to become someone new. I moved to Miami to be a part of advertising. Here’s when the running began.

I learned quickly in Miami and at CPB, that you could be whatever you wanted depending on how you looked and who you interacted with. This is the beginning of my “shadow self” years. I decided to reject swimming, and instead become a cool, pretty girl, who liked to party. I started drinking more, I started dating/hooking up more (I had only 1 intimate partner in my life until age 22). And just like that, I learned to shove my feelings down and run from who I really was.

Trying to be the fun, sociable party girl.

I didn’t want to be a tall, lanky, sort of goofy, somewhat funny swimmer, no I wanted to be anything else. I found tools to help me do that.

Blonde me trying to impress yet another sad ad-man.

Here are the major tools I learned to run from my true self.

1. Booze. This became my drug of choice to avoid my real feelings. This also became my drug of choice to ignore my social anxiety and let the drink do my talking. I started making all sorts of new drinking friends (that I never hear from now) and this helped me hide. It helped me hide from the pain of my fathers death. It helped me hide from the pain of not making it to the Olympics (my major goal), and it helped me hide from having to learn who I was going to be after swimming and St. Louis youth. Since those days I’ve learned that booze is not a medicine. That it will lie to you over and over again. That it will ask you to choose it, over yourself, every time.
2. Men. This became a hobby of mine. Finding ways to be loved, adored, and fawned over by men gave me a short term sense of validation and love that I was so desperately missing from my childhood. Even before my father died, he was a depressive addict and also a minister. So I learned that he had 2 modes — inspiring preacher, and scary depressive/opioid user. This made me think it was normal to try and “make someone feel happy” and I learned how to manipulate a situation to make men feel happy, and then would turn on them when that did not bring me happiness.
3. Advertising Jobs. This was a surprising way to run from myself that I didn’t know I was doing, until I started moving jobs every 2 years. Advertising was a fun industry, and it took me to fun places, to meet fun people. In the advertising industry, every single thing is a “fugazi” -an illusion meant to sell, entice, or manipulate. Down to the people who run the agencies. I learned this skill well and found it very comforting to know that I could put on a mask and be welcomed in a very respected profession. This didn’t last very long however as my mental state, and those around me, started to see that this type of job was eroding the very fabric of who I was.
4. Hair Dye. I died my hair blonde during my first job in Miami, and I became a different person to men. I had never had more attention in my life. I couldn’t believe this small 3 hour act could turn me into an absolute magnet for men. I loved the feeling and felt so glad that I could not only look different, but feel different. I could feel wanted, important, and beautiful by doing something external. I went on to dye my hair every color in the book — blonde, black, red, whatever it took to feel “new” and continue running from who I was.

Now that I’ve survived cancer, autoimmune disease, motherhood, death, divorce, and a career failure, I now am beginning to re-emerge as my true self. I could no longer run from myself using these earthly vices after the universe asked me to traverse cancer and life implosion. And the truth is, I didn’t want to. My original self was pretty great.

Sure she is a bit of a nerd, somewhat anxious, and generally introverted. But she is also an inspiring athlete, a loving mother, a caring community member, and a person of strong faith in a higher power (my God). I’m learning to get to know her, instead of running. I’m learning to let her sit in her feelings, instead of running. I’m learning to forgive her, and those who surrounded her during the years of running.

My son and I, running towards our future together.

I’m learning to be grateful that the run from myself is over, so I can run towards my next chapter.

If you are running from yourself — ask yourself what your ways of doing that are. And if you are ready to stop, do these three things: Meditate, Yoga, and AA/step meetings. You will be shocked at how much of the real you is still there, and ready to bloom.

Thanks for reading. And I hope you love yourself today for who you really are.

With love,

ESG