Dating in sobriety

The “Grapevine” couldn’t be a better metaphor for the growing gossip and intertwining overgrowth that is the fellowship of AA.

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“I am a woman,” the man—who, as it turned out, was a woman—said. I had never been attracted to a woman before but she wasn’t just a woman: she was, when I got to know her, this amazing combination of the best traits of a female best friend with all the machismo and chivalry of a man.He pursued and pursued, and I rejected and deflected, hating myself too much to respond to anyone who liked me.One day, when I was telling him everything about him that made him not my type, he said, “You really should be nice to me because we are going to end up together.” He’s not what I would have ever imagined for myself back when I was a distraction-seeking, unhinged newcomer.“I‘ll take the meeting and you can have the Big Book study.” Even if you avoid those meetings and drive 45 minutes out to bumfuck where nobody knows your name, word gets out.It’s only a matter of time before he hears how—and who—you’re doing.

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