PROVIDENCE – Last year, when I decided to speak openly about drinking and sobriety, I did so with my eyes wide open. I knew that at some point someone might choose to malign my character or to “weaponize” it in some capacity.

Now that this has occurred recently, I have a few thoughts to share.

Someone has come into the periphery of my life, and they are hugely important to a child I care a lot about. If you know anything about children, you know that what the trusted adults in their life say and feel about others is influential. Children are remarkably perceptive. That’s why I care what is said about me here.

The setting? A care provider’s office. Specifically, a care provider for the previously mentioned child. This person – let’s call them X – called me “an alcoholic” and heavily suggested that this could harm the child.

So, while yes, I abused alcohol; and yes, there’s been family trauma – there’s more to the story. This was intentional.

What happened?    
X looked me up online, skimmed the results, and chose to cherry-pick information that would paint a troubling picture of me. Because there is no way to know that I struggled with alcohol without knowing that I haven’t had a drink in 10 and a half years. There is no way to know that my family life imploded without knowing how drastically things have changed because of it.

There is no way to know that I have anxiety without knowing that I am a committed child advocate who has worked at the same beloved nonprofit for over a decade. You can’t have one without the other.

And, the more I think about it, I realize that this kind of deliberate misrepresentation tells me two important things:

•    It says much more about them – and specifically, their inner world – than it says about me.

X has every right to be curious about me, and to Google me. I’m a millennial woman; I understand checking people out online. I grew up on the Internet; knock yourself out!

I am also a mother and deeply understand protection, worry, safety, and the kind of love that having a child entails. What X doesn’t have the right to do is to selectively share information to paint an unfavorable picture of me and my character.

Bringing up my history with alcohol abuse without including my successful sobriety is weaponizing something deeply personal that I am proud of. It is deliberately misleading.

Bringing up my family trauma was vicious. There is no excuse for reading information on the Internet and making assumptions about how I feel or what I think or how it’s unfolding and how I have responded.

It’s also irrelevant to the relationship I have/will have with the child in question. It was low, and unproductive.

No one who is fully content and secure with themselves would act like that. Who chooses to search for information about another, and only disclose the troubled parts? Who has that kind of hostility? Coming out swinging about a stranger indicates a level of dissatisfaction and unrest that isn’t compatible with deep kindness. It reminds me of the phrase: hurt people hurt people.

I also think X is missing the golden rule here – treat others as you want to be treated. Who wants to be judged based on the most hurtful parts of their life and their worst decisions made once upon a time? I’m pretty sure the only truthful answer here is: no one. If I were to stoop to their level, I would wonder whether X has truly thriving friendships and relationships with an attitude like that but – hey, it’s none of my business, and I’m not going to waste my time.

•    It underscores why talking about sobriety from a place of personal experience is so profoundly important.

There’s a reason I use my voice to talk about sobriety. I grew up on DARE imagery: frying eggs representing brains on drugs, the classic 90’s pictures – darkened alleyways, people slumped over, empty classroom seats – trying to scare kids straight. Zero tolerance.

You can’t identify addiction or illness based on appearance or resume. I’m an athletically built, blonde white woman usually glittering with gold jewelry and a bright smile. I am Harvard-educated and thriving in the nonprofit communications field. I don’t fit the image that most have when thinking about addiction, alcohol abuse, anxiety, or mental health challenges.

The fact that I struggled with alcohol abuse is one that I have chosen to disclose. It’s not salacious, it’s something that I very mindfully choose to share so that those who struggle – or those with loved ones do – can relate.

We are our best when we are seen – and by telling my story. I want others to know that I see them, too – and that I have been through it and that redemption and grace and healing is always an option.

The stigma of secrecy and shame are a powerful drug that can trap people in a cycle. It’s that narrow mindset that X was leaning into when they dredged up this part of my story.

I’m not ashamed of my past, and I am so proud of myself for starting life sober all those years ago. I am in control of the narrative here. X can revel in my alcohol issues all they want – but I’m not going to allow them to omit the golden chapter that follows.

By discussing my personal experience and the peace I have found in sobriety, I am deconstructing harmful rhetoric about addiction and recovery.

I am showing that healing is possible and that we don’t have to stay stuck in patterns and places that no longer serve us.

The first step toward a better tomorrow can happen right now. And, I know, because I have been there. That kindness for ourselves is the first place to start.

I am forever grateful to be sober, and I am so thankful for the perspective and gratitude that I have learned along the way.

Beyond the thoughts I shared here, I’m unbothered by X -- or anyone else who would think this way. I am very comfortable with the fact that I love me, and that not everyone will like me.

I know that my words and my actions speak for themselves. And, I like and love what they say.

Katherine ‘Katy’ Linwood writes a monthly column on sobriety, “The Bright Side,” for ConvergenceRI. Connect with her on IG@katherine.linwood