I left rehab and went directly to my new dorm room at the University of Vermont. I landed in a good spot for the next stage of my recovery – surrounded by people, no one in the suite liked to drink, my RA lived in my suite, and his brother was in recovery too – as well as the woman directly downstairs. In fact, there were over a dozen of us on campus attending 12-step meetings, and we stuck together like our lives depended on it.

The thing about being at UVM is Burlington is cold in the wintertime. The wind races down Lake Champlain and chills the city. I was walking to classes, but also meetings and therapy, and I didn’t have a winter coat. I just bundled up in three sweaters and a scarf, and headed out to where I needed to be. I wouldn’t ask for a ride – I was stubborn and tough, and didn’t need your help.

My mentor took me to TJ Maxx to look for a coat. I was uninterested. I didn’t have the money for it and I didn’t want her charity either. Soon she raised a jacket up in the air – the outer layer was sturdy canvas, and it was lined with fleece. “It’s just like you!” Linda pointed out, “Tough on the outside, and soft and fuzzy on the inside.”

I was not impressed with her comparison – I didn’t feel so soft and fuzzy. Yet the truth was, my conscience runs deep and I often felt guilty over the things my tough self did.

“You deserve to be in environments that bring out the softness in you, not the survival in you.”

I hadn’t yet learned that my healing would involve – still involves! – embracing that soft and fuzzy version of myself.

I am a fierce warrior, but sometimes I fight for all the wrong reasons. Sure, when I am doing so to protect the underdog there is good reason for that, but when I bite my husband’s head off for no good reason, I feel guilty. Marching into battle wearing a full suit of armor is not the best way to decide what we’re going to have for dinner. I need my softer side. At home, I most often need to lead with my inner fleece.

I don’t walk around scaring people anymore, suited up in my survival attire. Behind me are the days of needing my canvas armor. I seek people and places where I be my fuzzy soft self, safely. This is the version of me that I like best.

Today, are you living in your canvas or your fleece?