Meet Lisa S

Hello! My name is Lisa S. and I am excited to share my story of how open water swimming has positively impacted my life. I am hopeful that sharing my story will somehow help others. I was drawn to the water from a young age. When the internet was born, it didn’t take me long to come up with my first profile/e-mail name of “Hydroflicka” (water girl). I swam competitively in high school (in the slower lanes) and worked as a swim teacher and lifeguard at the local YMCA starting from the age of 16 and during summer breaks throughout college. I became close friends with the other teachers/lifeguards that I worked with and we would often do Pier-to-Pier swims in Manhattan Beach (Los Angeles). During my first semester of college at UC Santa Barbara, I didn’t hesitate to sign up for scuba diving and aqua aerobics as part of my freshman course load. If I am being honest, I probably chose UC Santa Barbara because of its proximity to the ocean. There were many days I would jump into the water in the early mornings when the town of Isla Vista was still sound asleep from hangovers, or I would rush home after class to quickly change into my swimsuit and swim out past the waves to catch the sunset. It never occurred to me that going out alone could be dangerous. It was just something I did. 

During my junior year of college, I opted to study abroad in the Netherlands and I lost my connection to swimming and the ocean. Studying abroad was a phenomenal experience of traveling all over Europe and making lifelong friendships. It was also the year that 9/11 happened, just weeks after we started our studies. It was at this time that I met who would eventually become my husband and the father of my child. We spent most of our 20s together, finishing up our undergraduate degrees at our respective colleges, then returning to the Netherlands to pursue higher education. We eventually made our way back to California in 2007 for my partner to pursue a PhD program at UC San Diego. We purchased a beautiful home, had a gorgeous wedding and had the most perfect baby I could have ever dreamed of. It all seemed too good to be true. Sometimes, I would walk around our home and pinch myself, wondering how I got to be so lucky. 

Around the time that I got pregnant, my husband started taking prescription medications to help him focus on his studies. I was heavily focused on my pregnancy and my changing body, obsessed with motherhood. Things in our relationship started to go awry and when our baby was born, I assumed that the problems we were having in our relationship were a result of sleep deprivation and the transition to parenthood. I was anxious and depressed about having to return to work when our baby was just 3 months old. Things got progressively worse in our marriage and eventually, it became impossible to deny that the prescription medications had turned into a full-blown addiction. During our 20s, we drank plenty of alcohol. It seemed like everyone did, including our Professors. But we never got into any hard drugs together. I didn’t know the warning signs of addiction even though it was right under my nose. 

The years 2011-2013 were the most difficult chapters of my life. Being married to someone in active addiction was incredibly chaotic, unpredictable and scary. I never knew what I was coming home to and I didn’t know what was real anymore. It is very difficult, if not impossible, to separate the person from the disease when they are in active addiction. My frustration turned to anger, and my anger turned to fear. Every day presented a new set of challenges and I was drowning. I wanted him to stop using and to be a present husband and father. But the disease was stronger than my wishes and it completely devastated our marriage and our family. I eventually packed a backpack with diapers, a few changes of clothes and prayed that $1,000 in the bank account would somehow get us through. I leaned on the goodwill of friends, family and strangers. After a month of couch surfing with my 2-year-old and keeping our distance from the chaos, my husband checked himself into rehab and the long road to recovery began. 

I moved in with a single mom and her son in a beautiful home where we would spend the next 8 years. My husband moved into a sober group home and shortly thereafter, he filed for divorce. I wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the chaos as I could so I signed the paperwork quickly, not fully conscious of what I might be signing away. My divorce cost me a grand total of $500.

I carried around so much pain and anger for many years afterwards, sometimes bleeding on those who loved me most. I tried every which way to heal, but healing takes time. Just a few months after leaving, I raised $2,000 in order to attend a yoga teacher’s training. Yoga studios had always been a safe place for me to land and my housemate/fellow single mom became my stand-in partner for the next couple of years. She was one of the many angels that appeared in my life during that time. I went on to explore numerous healing modalities over the years; various yoga trainings (Yin, Kundalini, Trauma-Informed), Reiki, 5 Rhythms Dance, Art Therapy, Talk Therapy, Al-Anon meetings, Acupuncture, Non-Violent Communication, Improv Comedy, etc. I also self-medicated with alcohol and pot to try to numb the pain. Not heavily, but just enough to keep the pain at bay. I sensed that if I let myself feel all the feelings, then I would fall apart and I wouldn’t be able to keep it together at work or at home. So, I numbed out when the feelings would creep in. I wasn’t ready to feel the grief and the loss fully. I healed in bite sized moments, mostly on a yoga mat. In 2018, I started an early morning daily meditation practice that did not mix well with my self-medicating strategies. I almost completely replaced medication with meditation. I felt strong and empowered. Then Covid hit and I lost my connection to my yoga community. My daily practice dwindled and my self-medicating started up again. Around this time, I discovered that my son’s PE Coach (Coach Lord) was an open water swimmer and swam in the ocean a few times a week at La Jolla Cove. My boyfriend at the time connected me to her and she allowed me to start tagging along with her. It felt like a coming home. Each time I would dip my toes in the water and feel the chill of the water, it was like a bolt of electricity signaling to my Self that I am alive and well. That right here, right now, all is well. That in this moment, I am allowed to feel joy. As I acclimated to the temperature and synched with the currents, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and a connection to my breath that I struggled to find anywhere else. It felt so natural to return to the ocean, my first love. The joy I felt was pure and true. Finally, I could release all my sadness, my grief, my anger, my frustration, my resentments, my bitterness, my everything to the ocean and she was big enough to take it all in. She reflects back to me that it is natural and normal to feel different every day. That moods shift and change, just like the tides. That turbulence and chaos don’t last forever. 

My son’s father has been sober for 9+ years. It took years of therapy (both together and apart) but we managed to rebuild trust. We can still trigger each other of course, but I am so proud of how far we have come in our ability to have a healthy co-parenting relationship. The peace we enjoy today is only possible because of sobriety and recovery. Seeing him happily remarried with the cutest little 1 year old in the world is proof that second chances are possible. That sobriety and recovery are possible. So much healing and potential are unleashed in sobriety and I am humbled by those who commit to this path. I no longer feel angry and bitter. I feel hopeful and positive about the future. I hope that my story helps someone out there who may be struggling with a loved one with substance use disorder. You can’t force them to quit, you can’t change them. But you can come to the ocean and let her hold all you have been carrying. You can allow yourself to become weightless and to be free, even if it's just for a moment. It matters. You matter. Your joy matters. 

I have been swimming a few times a week for over 3 years now and while I’m not completely sober, I can’t recall the last time I had more than one drink. I no longer feel the urge to numb out. I completed my first marathon swim in March of 2023 in Mexico - a 10k from Cancun to Isla Mujeres. I am itching to do the Around Coronado Swim (11 miles) and I am watching Kelley S. closely, inspired by her track record and her welcoming, supportive spirit. There is something really special about the open water swim community - we support and uplift each other in reaching our goals. And we have a heck of a lot of fun doing it.  :) :) :) 

Thanks for reading. Much love.