Imagine Maria. Let’s say that Maria is five years sober, gainfully employed, happily thriving in a fulfilling intimate relationship. She gets an invitation in the mail: her younger brother is getting married on the coast of Maine, Labor Day weekend. She will be there, but so will a tremendous challenge - not the open bar, but the guest list.
Every relative who watched her drunkenly implode over and over again will be at her brother’s wedding. Some of them were people she took advantage of. She’s made amends, sent apology letters, returned stolen money with interest, but this is the first time that all of them will be in the same room together.
She lets everyone in her recovery group know what is happening and commits to more or less live-texting the entire encounter. She digs up her old notebook from when she first got sober and, on the flight to the wedding, rereads her Step 4 inventory. Crashing a cousin’s bike and blaming the damage on a deer attack. Two Thanksgiving blackouts in a row before she stopped being invited over to Aunt Lynn’s.
She lands determined to do three things: own the past, apologize where it still hurts, and re‑write her place at the family table.
But then rehearsal dinner happens. Aunt Lynn, already flushed with wine, greets her with a whooping cackle and a “Oh wow! Look who decided to show up sober!” A ripple of awkward chuckles passes around the table.
Maria had spent the plane ride practicing how she was going to re-explain every painful detail of her past, but in this moment she chooses a different response entirely. She playfully looks over her shoulder as if looking for someone else, then gestures towards herself: “Me? Here, sober? I almost can’t believe it either!”
AA’s big slogan, “one day at a time”, called her to drop the weight of her past and seize the lightness of the present. Her grand plan to re-litigate the past suddenly felt heavy and pointless. She can always explain herself later.
She gets plenty of opportunities. Later, during toasts, a now-drunk Aunt Lynn launches into a dramatic rendition of the time that Maria stole pearls right off of Grandma’s neck. “Watch out when that one goes in for a hug! She’ll unclasp anything she can get her little fingers on!”. Aunt Lynn laughs, too loud, avoiding Maria’s eyes. Heads swivel. Murmurs swell, then fall silent beneath Aunt Lynn’s pressured, painful, angry laughter.
For a heartbeat, Maria felt the old shame rise. Then she remembered her sponsor’s words: ‘Your truth is not your trauma.’ She gets to tell a new story now.
Maria speaks: “Aunt Lynn is right. I used to be really desperate, more desperate than I even admitted to myself. I’m really grateful for everyone who helped me survive. I’m grateful for all of you.” Maria is looking right at Aunt Lynn. “I’m really grateful that I got to give those pearls back, and that I got to give Grandma one more real hug before she died. She showed me how it feels to be forgiven and loved no matter what. It’s because of that kind of love that I’m alive. I’m grateful that I get to be here.” Maria raises her glass of sparkling water with lime. “To Grandma!” The room exhales with relief, joining her in her toast. Even Aunt Lynn.
Before bed, Maria checks in with her sponsor about her encounter. Her sponsor was thrilled. “You owned your past when it mattered and let go of it when it didn’t. Everything you brought to the table was in service of the present moment and connecting with your family. The present and the future looks completely different than your past, and I couldn’t be more proud of you.”
Her brother was proud of her too.
Philosophy Box:
Aufhebung (from Hegel): cancel–preserve–elevate a painful past through shared recognition.
Active forgetting (from Nietzsche): a conscious release that secures today’s vitality.
AA’s wisdom: inventory and confession give the past an opportunity to speak and give us an opportunity to tell a new story. “One day at a time” decides how loud our story speaks tomorrow.
Post‑mortem items for you
Spot the pivot. Where did Maria switch from Nietzschean forgetting to Hegelian integration, and why did it help?
Risk audit. What risks arise if you lean only Hegelian (endless apologies) or only Nietzschean (surface‑level charm) in tense situations?
Next 24 hours. Think of a concrete action for each pole: e.g. “Text my sister an apology” (integration) + “Schedule 30 minutes of guitar practice to stay present” (forgetting).