I was the Eighteenth Amendment.
Growing up, I attempted to enact this jurisdiction on the alcohol that incessantly infiltrated my home, leaving my father's words a slurred puzzle and my mother's passed-out body an obstacle. These drunken transformations created lasting facets: caretaking shaped my concept of childhood, lies were the only form of communication I knew, and I fought against the drinking, draining bottles while documenting broken promises. In my mind, I had to do everything I could to prevent the abuse and infidelity that transpired from intoxicated evenings.
As a constant nightwatchman, I grappled with a precarious internal state. I simultaneously believed that people were fundamentally untrustworthy and self-serving and that my home's dysfunction stemmed from my inability to maintain control over the situation. To combat my failure, I centered my life around controlling the drinking in any way I could.
It wasn't until I discovered the concept of emotional intelligence (EQ) that I realized I needed a repeal, just like the Eighteenth Amendment. EQ taught me to understand what I could control regarding addiction in my life. I began to learn skills for navigating my emotional attachment to the drinking. Instead of holding myself responsible for my parents' alcoholism as a way to deny its permanence, I learned to accept my situation.
I no longer tried to stop my parents' alcoholism. I used communication and regulation tactics to maintain a necessary level of detachment while fostering external connections. Instead of guarding myself from vulnerable relationships, I became more honest with those I felt safe around, like my Grandmother. Most importantly, I learned to see the good in myself and others.
Recognizing, understanding, and learning to manage my emotions helped me thrive with constant exposure to alcoholism and its effects. Because of this, I wondered why I had never learned about EQ earlier. The more I reflected, the more I became certain that my discoveries could aid others needing emotional awareness and control. This belief led me to create my non-profit organization, Me You & EQ.
Through Me You & EQ, I collaborate with EQ researchers to design interactive games focused on teaching emotional intelligence strategies. I then bring these games into elementary school after-school programs in my area. The incredible response I've received from this work has been highly gratifying. Whenever a student asks a question or shares how they applied one of my lessons in their life, I know they are developing a mindset that will stay with them forever.
My journey of teaching EQ skills as a result of my parents' alcoholism has inspired me to pursue a career in education. Specifically, I aim to work on curriculum development, ensuring a more comprehensive approach. I believe in filling the educational gap in social and emotional learning, empowering students with essential tools to navigate challenges. EQ education transformed my life growing up. I want to ensure this kind of teaching reaches students at all stages.
My alcoholic parents taught me how to find and maintain control in my life. My emotional awareness and communication skills allow me to navigate difficult situations with a healthy detachment that comes from self-love and appreciation. My transformative experiences have shaped my personal growth and ignited a passion to equip future generations with the education they need to thrive. By ensuring children have access to social and emotional learning resources, I hope to break the cycle of silence and internal blame stemming from a challenging family environment. Alcoholism continues to shape my life, but my mindset as the Eighteenth does not.