I want to tell you something I’ve been watching for years.

A few times a year I host workshops and classes for a group of families who come together on Zoom. Parents, spouses, siblings, aunts, grandparents, etc. Some have been dealing with this for five years. Some for twenty. Some are in an active crisis right now. Some have just gone numb.

Before we start, I ask them why they are here.

Here’s what they say.

“I’m here because I’m an enabler and I don’t want to be that person anymore.” 

“I’m here because I’m lost and sad.” 

“I’m here because I want to stop the chaos.” 

“I’m here because I feel empty and I need support.” 

“I’m here to fire myself, from helping in the wrong role, more effectively.”

Partway through the evening, I put people into small groups in breakout rooms. Six strangers, all loving someone in addiction. I give them three questions and twenty-five minutes.

And something happens.

I don’t fully know how to explain it. I’ve watched it dozens of times and it still gets me. They go into the breakout rooms looking one way… somewhat guarded, scared, angry, exhausted, as if braced. 

They come out looking different. 

Lighter. 

Like something they’ve been carrying alone for years just got shared for the first time with people who actually understand.

“Immediate connection. We’ve all been here.” 

“Not alone and not afraid of being judged.” 

“It feels so good to be with people who understand.”

That’s from one evening together. Strangers. Two hours.

I’ve been thinking about why it works. And I think I finally know.

More on that next week.

Talk soon, 
Kate