Twenty years ago this week, I stood on the side of the road in handcuffs.
The counselor who once guided others through relapse and recovery… … was now the man doing the hokey pokey in a field sobriety test.
That night felt like the end of everything.
And in truth, it became the doorway to something else.
Not quickly.
Not neatly.
But eventually.
In the 1990s, I was active and visible in the recovery community, both as a professional and a participant.
On the outside, I looked like the model of recovery.
But underneath, I was living a double life — the role model in the spotlight, the imposter in the shadows.
Every day I urged recovery clients to get back up if they slipped. To live One Day at a Time.
But I couldn’t offer myself the same grace. No matter what I achieved, I still felt like a fraud.
After seven years sober, I relapsed.
I couldn’t face the community I had built,
so I left.
Back in the business world, the double life deepened.
I played the road warrior life of the party.
Until I was back in the silence of a hotel room, alone with the imposter.
Eight years later came the DUI.
The imposter’s voice was loud that night, whispering words I already believed: you’re a failure, a fraud, and now everyone will see it.
The rebuild was slow and messy.
It started with telling the truth to my employer, finding acceptance and support.
Then, I rebuilt my health.
Running led to weight loss, marathons, and eventually an Ironman at 7 years after that night.
But the deeper rebuild took much longer.
Acceptance is the key ... |
For nearly 20 years, I carried the guilt and shame of the relapse and DUI in silence.
I judged and rejected myself.
No matter what I accomplished on the outside. The imposter never left my side.
Self-acceptance began after the loss of my parents in 2023.
I told my therapist the whole truth and said “DUI” out loud for the first time.
Grief stripped away the need to keep pretending.
Later, I appeared on Paul Briles’ Off the Comma podcast and shared my story publicly.
I wanted others to know they didn’t have to be shame-bound.
That the prison keeping them stuck was often one they built themselves.
Writing this now takes acceptance even deeper.
Owning the truth here, with you, is a new level of honesty.
It’s another step in embracing the imposter instead of hiding from him.
Here’s a short excerpt from my conversation with Paul Briles.
I’m still learning to embrace the imposter as part of me.
To accept not being perfect today.
It’s not an easy journey, and I hope you’ll take it with me.
Take a few minutes to reflect on these prompts as you consider your next chapter.
1. When do you hear your “imposter” speaking up? What does it say, and how do you usually respond?
2. Think of a recent mistake or stumble. How would it change things if you treated it as one day at a time — doing your best today, and starting again tomorrow?
3. What truth have you carried in silence because you feared judgment? What might shift if you spoke it out loud to someone you trust?
4. Where are you still holding yourself to perfection, when self-acceptance —would set you free?
If one of the prompts speaks to you, send me a message. I’d love to hear your story, and I promise you’ll leave our conversation with at least one step forward.
Your worst day can still become your doorway.
I’ve learned that self-acceptance is the key and it’s always within reach, one day at a time.
-Mark
Mark Wigginton, MS, Certified Professional Coach
Personal Coach | Midlife Guide | Today I'm Brave
📬 MarkW@FocusingOnResults.com
🌐 www.focusingonresults.com
🔗 Connect with me on LinkedIn
P.S. If this message resonated with you, it might speak to someone else too. Forward it to a friend who’s ready for their next chapter—you never know what kind of shift a few words of encouragement can spark.
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