From The Outside Looking In

Last week I went to my first AA meeting.

I don’t mind telling you it was a little intimidating. There were no signs. No instructions about what to do. No arrows directing me to where I should go. Nothing indicating what time the meetings take place or how long they would last. No preparation about what to expect when I walked through the doors.

Every day for the past two years I have driven past the Ambry Club, just two blocks from my house. I noticed that at certain times of the day, the parking lot would be full and folks would be gathered and visiting outside the front door. I was curious. I wanted to go, but was scared. I wasn’t sure I would be welcome there. I didn’t think I fit in. After all, I wasn’t really one of them. I didn’t meet the requirements. We might have some things in common, but I was pretty sure I didn’t fit the profile.

For years I have heard about the good work and life change that happens in places like this. But what would happen to me if I went? Would my friends start to look at me differently? Would they talk about me? Avoid me? Exclude me? How would I explain this to my Dad?

So day after day, I drove by, afraid to stop. I wanted to, but it made my palms sweat just thinking about it. So I would grip the steering wheel, divert my eyes and just keep driving.

What requirements do they have? Do I have to pay to go? Would I be pressured to make some kind of commitment? To join? Was this for “members” only or can just anyone come? Could I walk away if I didn’t like it? Would I be asked to say or do something that would embarrass me?

Then a good friend offered to go with me. She told me what time they met. She described a few of the characters I would likely run into. I asked about the meeting and what to expect. She assured me that everyone was welcome there and prompted me on what to say when it was my turn. “My name is Jay, and I’m just here to listen.”

What a relief to have someone sit beside me who understood things. She knew how nervous I was. How uncomfortable I felt. She understood the room. The people. The rituals. The language. The expectations. She explained a few things to me. I borrowed her courage and followed her lead. What was so foreign and strange to me was comfortable to her.

I learned a lot that night. What it's like to be on the outside looking in... the courage it takes to walk through the door for the first time. Once inside, it wasn’t nearly as frightening as I had imagined. And most interesting of all, I think maybe I really do belong there.