As some of you may know, I am a big believer in intentional periods of abstinence. When we are feeling out of balance in our relationship with a substance, behavior, or person(s), completely abstaining for a set period (or indefinite) amount of time is one of the most effective tools we have to develop a right-sized relationship with it.
By late 2017, I had strung together a couple of years where I’d have months-long periods without drinking or other intoxicants, usually followed by a few weeks where I’d slip back into heavy drinking, or a night under the influence where I behaved really out of alignment with my integrity. When I took my first ten day meditation course (in S. N. Goenka’s Vipassana lineage) — and where we abstain from intoxicants, speaking, writing, and sexual activity — my relationship with substances kept coming up for me. After a decade of picking up and putting down and picking up alcohol, other substances, and tobacco, I realized that the only sane relationship I could have with them in my life was to not have them at all.
While I’ve been sober from alcohol / drugs / tobacco since late 2017, “sobriety” has been a long-term process of discovery for me. A commitment to life-long abstinence has also not been the go-to for me in the other areas of my life that I have struggled with, but periods of abstinence have helped me work out and reassess my relationship to all kinds of things.
I have been in recovery for internet and technology addiction for over two years now, and that process has looked a lot more like boundary setting and temporary abstinences than the forever-drop of substances in my life. I’ve experimented with giving up TV alone during lent, and during a two-month long workshop I was doing; I’ve set a lot of limits on my social media use (which is honestly not going very well for me right now, but it’s nowhere near what it used to be); and I’ve been abstaining from using dating apps since December 2023. None of these things I have any intention of giving up for the rest of my life, but all of them are behaviors that were feeling really out of my control and that I needed a proper detox from.
The most challenging and rewarding period of abstinence I’ve undergone — and have been undergoing — is a complete abstention from dating for the past 8 months. While I have not been in a committed romantic relationship in over 4 years, I was absolutely stuck in the cycle of chasing unavailable people. I was in growing amounts of pain, and had less and less — if not zero — fulfillment in them. Since the beginning of June 2024, I’ve been abstaining from all forms of dating — partner-seeking, dating apps, contact with people I’m romantically attracted to or have any romantic history with, going places with the explicit intention of meeting someone, non-platonic physical intimacy, and a number of other behaviors I’ve explicitly defined for myself.
The months leading up to this dating fast were a lot more painful than when I actually committed to doing it. I felt wishy-washy and totally unwilling to stop seeking a partner, and afraid of letting go and pushing people away. Since starting this dating fast, so much of the energy that I was endlessly giving away to unavailable people — literally revolving my life around them — has been called back to me. I feel more in touch with what I want for myself, and more attuned to what I don’t want to tolerate in my relationships anymore. At first I thought, going through a dating fast when I’ve already been single for 3 years is ridiculous. Isn’t now the time when I should be putting myself out there? What if the people I’m talking to now disappear on me?
Well, that is exactly what happened. When I stopped chasing certain people, they didn’t reach out, which I both grieved and gained greater clarity on the amount of one-sided energy I was expending. For those that did reach out to me, I took my space with the reassurance that the people who are meant to be in our lives will be in one form or another when the time is right, even if that means that now we are not available for contact.
Reading Mark Groves’ (host of one of my favorite podcasts) and Kylie McBeath’s book Liberated Love helped convince me that a period of dating abstinence was necessary for me, a sacred container where we choose to put our relationship with ourselves over our pursuit of other people.
“If you’ve been single for a while, the thought of intentionally creating space from dating and seeking a partner can feel counterintuitive and straight-up backward. Echoes of ‘I’ve already been in a no-dating container for the last X years’ spring to mind. But, for all of our single friends out there, we want to remind you that when you intentionally choose not to date or seek out a partner—even for a short amount of time—you begin to realize how much of your energy actually went toward finding one. As this energy frees up, a powerful reset can occur that shifts years-old dating patterns—like choosing unavailable partners and settling for crumbs. When conscious choice is involved, everything shifts.” — from Liberated Love (Mark Groves and Kylie McBeath)
I don’t know exactly when this abstinence period will end for me, but like many other areas of my life, taking not only a “step back” but actually shutting the door on a specific area for a time has made room for a major churning within me to take place.
While I have known intellectually that a partner or having children do not complete me, at my core, I could not shake the belief that my life would be incomplete if I were to die without ever getting married or having children. No amount of feminist theory or understanding was able to shake this intense craving and belief that my life felt empty and purposeless without a partner, no matter what I achieved. The desire for partnership took center stage, high up on a pedestal, no matter what I was doing.
While I still want life-partnership, marriage, and children in my life, going through this dating fast has led me deeper into the core belief that my life has inherent meaning and worth regardless of whether or not partnership works out for me. No amount of convincing or self-talk could have brought me here without this radical pivot in behavior I had made. My sense of urgency and desperation is lifting, and it is being replaced by a deepening trust in God that things will work out in their own time if I just keep the focus on the path that’s best for me. Partnership is taking a more right-sized position in my life, and it is not the end-all solution to everything that my brain has allowed me to make it up to be. Partnership is no longer the definition of “things working out” for me that I had allowed it to become (embarrassing to admit as a self-respecting achievement-oriented spiritual person), but rather a part of many other pieces of pursuing a meaningful, fulfilling life.
Mainly, I’ve been able to focus more on my work, and tend to a lot of unresolved grief. Beneath a lot of my obsessions and compulsive behaviors (my urges to fill the hole) is the fear of death, loneliness, and mortality. I’ve buried them for years under partner-seeking and internet use, as if they would somehow make those fears or realities go away. Since my stepdad died 3 months ago today, there have been times where I’ve craved the comfort of a partner and feared the grief that comes up during so much solitude, but I have not truly believed that partnership could take this immense pain and fear away. Conversely, I’ve become even more convinced that now is the time for me to focus on my recovery, community, family, and personal projects, and that this current moment is not the time for me to be dating (even though MY STEPDAD had on several occasions joked to me, “CLOCKS TICKIN’ KID!”).
Going about my life without any consideration for how I will be seen or witnessed by someone I’m romantically interested in (because I am removing myself from those positions) has been immensely liberating. While my needs for being seen and heard are still met in many ways, being lifted out of the obsession I have with being seen / heard / approved of by romantic interests has been extremely healing. It’s taken my worth out of someone else’s power, and back into my own hands.

The fear that comes with the end of fasting period — the fear of falling back into old or addictive patterns — does occasionally creep in. As with many times I have undergone a kind of fast — from juice fasts to media fasts — those periods have been followed by intense cravings, urges to indulge, and binges, and I am left feeling even more defeated or like the suffering of abstinence (and the withdrawal that comes with it) was a waste of time.
I am more comforted by the understanding that “relapse” is not inevitable, that we are never doomed to repeat harmful patterns throughout our lifetime. Yes, we can slip back into old patterns, but whatever we learned during those periods of abstinence will always be with us, and we must believe it is possible that things won’t be “as bad” as before. Especially when we don’t undertake these difficult abstinence periods in isolation, and when we do so with a strong support network — through mentorship, accountability buddies, and relationships with others where we are mutually invested in each others’ well-being (i.e. people who support the healing work we are trying to do and won’t enable or push us back into old patterns). Without a support network or a mindfulness / spirituality practice, relapses are absolutely possible, and yes, our acting out patterns can get worse or more dangerous.
As a person who has been in relationships with people in active substance addiction, and working through my own addictions myself, I know first-hand just how awful relapse after a period of abstinence can be, whether that is with substances, screens, food, or relationship patterns. This isn’t my first rodeo — I have seen myself swear off “toxic relationships” before only to end up in much more damaging relationships afterwards, though a part of that was the result of trying to heal without help.
The fast is a reprieve and a chance to reset our internal wiring, and they can absolutely work miracles. But going back out into the world with all of its temptations, pressures, and stressors makes implementing a safety net after our periods of abstinence all the more necessary. Healing takes work, and does not just magically happen. It’s an ongoing, daily effort, and thankfully, it is always right there waiting for us any time we get off track.
Upcoming Events:
Join me for a virtual reading celebrating Bamboo Ridge Issue #126 on Wednesday, February 19th from 7pm-8:30pm PST (5pm-6:30pm HST)! Hosted by guest editor Victoria Nalani Kneubuhl, and featuring readings by Dorell Ben, Cheryl Ann Farrell, Kathleen Foster, Donna Henderson, Darrell H. Y. Lum (feat. Misty Sanico), Zoe C. Sims, and myself. I’ll be reading two of my poems that were published in Bamboo Ridge Issue #126. Register here — the reading is free ❤️
“The voices of these writers are deep, insightful, imaginative, funny, provocative, political, thoughtful, and concerned. Many of them have an enduring and rich love for this place we call home. In these trying and uncertain times, one could say that literature and the arts are a refuge from the chaos we might feel around us. But they are much more than that. Literature, stories, poems, and plays—this is where we come to hear each other’s voices and to join in a reciprocal recognition and acknowledgement of our humanity. It is through this recognition and acknowledgment that we have the possibility to initiate real understanding and change in the world.”
Very reflective. Yes I agree it is important to not distract one's self when periods of reformation are in order. It's not about time but how we learn and grow during that time. Internet and relationships can prevent us from doing the work.