Melissa Chureau · 54 min
Melissa Chureau spent decades hiding her undiagnosed ADHD and alcoholism behind a mask of professional success, until the cost of that concealment threatened her marriage, her sobriety, and her sense of self.
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Melissa Chureau spent decades hiding behind a carefully constructed mask. From childhood, when an undiagnosed ADHD made her different from other kids, she learned that who she naturally was would never fit. She couldn't sit still, couldn't stop climbing things, couldn't think the way teachers expected. By first or second grade, she made a decision that would shape her entire life: hide it all, and never ask for help.
At twelve, Melissa found alcohol. For the first time, it made her feel like everyone else felt. That discovery set off years of chaos: a cross-country move that pulled her away from friends, a brush with Scientology as a teenager, an abusive relationship, and a relentless cycle of drinking while trying to appear like someone who had it together. She sobered up at fifteen, then again in her twenties, but the mask stayed on. Even as she made her way through law school, passed the bar, and built a career as a lawyer, she was living two separate lives. One person at work, another at home. One sober, one secret. The split felt safer than the truth.
It took her husband asking who she really was, a moment when her marriage hung in the balance, to make Melissa see that division was costing her everything. Over roughly a decade, she slowly integrated her life in stages: first at home with her family, then at work. She started naming her ADHD and her sobriety without shame. She discovered that vulnerability, not hiding, is what actually connects people to one another. That shift changed everything. Today, nearly 23 years sober, Melissa is a lawyer, a mindfulness facilitator, and a coach. She shows up as herself, all of herself, and finds that people respond not with rejection but with recognition. If you recognise yourself in her story, Melissa's message is clear: you don't have to do this alone.
⚠️ Content advisory: this episode discusses addiction & recovery, which some listeners may find distressing.
If you need support, you're not alone. Help is available: • SMART Recovery Australia (addiction): smartrecoveryaustralia.com.au • ReachOut: au.reachout.com
“I needed to put up this mask and be somebody completely different and God forbid I ever asked for any help from anybody.”
“I felt like what I imagined what everybody else felt like normally.”
“the more I hid who I was the more divided I felt and the more like separate and I felt like I was living these Separate Lives.”
The hero, today
Melissa learned to mask who she was as a child and never asked for help, believing that her natural self, hyperactive, creative, different, was wrong, and this pattern of hiding followed her into adulthood until it threatened her marriage and her sobriety. Alcohol felt like the answer to being different because it made Melissa feel normal for the first time, which set the course for years of drinking as a coping strategy alongside undiagnosed ADHD, until she chose recovery at fifteen, again at a later point, and finally in 2000. The turning point came when Melissa realised that hiding who she was created a sharp edge that pushed people away, and that vulnerability and authenticity, not hiding her ADHD, her sobriety, or her insecurities, were what actually connected her to others. Melissa spent roughly a decade integrating her life in stages: first in her marriage and home, then at work, learning to name her ADHD and sobriety without shame and discovering that 99 per cent of people responded with support rather than rejection. Melissa credits mentors, sponsors, therapists, and people who did not even know they were mentors, including teachers, meditation guides, and coaches, with helping her rebuild, and she emphasises that coming through adversity cannot be done alone.
Yes. Melissa Chureau is a real person who shared their own story in their own words. Kintsugi Heroes is a not-for-profit that shares first-person stories of overcoming adversity, told with the person's consent.
Kintsugi Heroes, a registered Australian not-for-profit. Every story is shared with the hero's own consent and reviewed under Kintsugi Heroes' trauma-informed content standard before it goes public.
Melissa learned to mask who she was as a child and never asked for help, believing that her natural self, hyperactive, creative, different, was wrong, and this pattern of hiding followed her into adulthood until it threatened her marriage and her sobriety.
Alcohol felt like the answer to being different because it made Melissa feel normal for the first time, which set the course for years of drinking as a coping strategy alongside undiagnosed ADHD, until she chose recovery at fifteen, again at a later point, and finally in 2000.
The turning point came when Melissa realised that hiding who she was created a sharp edge that pushed people away, and that vulnerability and authenticity, not hiding her ADHD, her sobriety, or her insecurities, were what actually connected her to others.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 00:03
Welcome to the Kintsugi Heroes Podcast, where we share inspirational stories of everyday people going through different challenges and how they overcome them. Please be aware that the story you're about to hear may have moments of deeply felt emotions and personal experiences. If anything you hear has a triggering effect, please reach out to someone who can help keep you safe. If you love this conversation, please like and share it with your friends so we can continue to share more inspiration and hope to as many people as possible. Now listen up for our next hero's story. In this episode, I met with Melissa Churro. What a lovely person. On the outside, Melissa just looks and sounds like a normal person, and she is, because this is, this is quite common in that on the outside we appear successful, successful mum, successful in career, and yet she was plagued with an upbringing in a life of, I guess, hiding and trying to live with undiagnosed ADHD, which turned into alcoholism. And despite all the adversity, she used her courage and determination to find her path through. And lives a very authentic life. She turned that around to then help others. What this conversation showed me was that there are many people living with secrets. They have a different side to them that they don't bring out and show the world. And Melissa showed me, and Püru has proven, how you can integrate those together and become whole again. And that was the most beautiful takeaway of this conversation. So yes, enjoy this conversation with Melissa Churro.
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 01:53
Well, here we are.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 01:54
It's another episode of Kintsugi Heroes, and I'm with Melissa Churro. Hello, Melissa, and thank you for joining me today.
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 02:03
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Melissa spent roughly a decade integrating her life in stages: first in her marriage and home, then at work, learning to name her ADHD and sobriety without shame and discovering that 99 per cent of people responded with support rather than rejection.
This conversation includes the imposter in the room, born into alcoholism and separation, the girl who climbed walls, the mask goes on, the drink that felt like normal and three thousand miles and the rug pulls again.
Hello, it's very nice to be here. Thank you for having me.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 02:06
You're welcome, and, uh, thank you for coming to share your story. I'm, I'm always in awe of and humbled by the people that show up and, and have chosen to share their stories, and it's just a beautiful thing. So thank you for being here. How about we get started? And I'm going to hand over to you. I'd love to know, uh, hear your story. Why about— why don't you take us back to where it begins? Give us some context, what was going on, and yeah, go from the start.
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 02:36
Yeah, thank you so much. Um, well, I guess I'm going to start off with a little preface to this, is that I have like massive imposter syndrome. And so even here, where I know you and your viewers or listeners just want to hear the truth, I think, well, my story is not good enough. I'm not adverse enough. I didn't experience enough pain or trauma to be inspirational. And so I just have all that going on in my head. So I just thought I'd get that out there. And I'm sure there's probably somebody out there who can relate a little bit. Usually impostorism shows up for me, you know, in the context of like something professional, like, or, you know, where I'm having to perform or compete or something like that. And I think, oh, they're going to find out I'm not really qualified or I'm not going to do anything. So it's funny, I guess, to show up to, you know, a podcast in which we're talking about, you know, overcoming adversity. And I wasn't— it wasn't adverse enough. You know, it's not enough. There wasn't enough pain. You know, I should have had more pain. I should have had more adversity. So there it is. But yeah, for me, I mean, I don't know, I always feel like, and then I was born, you know, like, starting off there. But the truth is, is, you know, I was born, like so many of us are, into families that, you know, it's not all black and white, but it's not all great. You know, I was born into a family with a lot of alcoholism. My father's side of the family is just riddled with it. In fact, I don't, I never met my paternal grandfather. So far as I know, I was told that he died drunk in a gutter somewhere. I mean, that's literally what I've been told. I have no idea if that's true or not. And that's a little bit of the backdrop. And, you know, I, at a very young age, I still don't quite know when, can't quite get the story facts right from family members, but my parents got divorced. There was some domestic violence. And so my parents got divorced when I was very young. And I was at some point living with my grandparents, my maternal grandparents in Pennsylvania, which is far away from Michigan, which is where my father's family lived. But I also was removed from my mother, not because she had done anything wrong, but I think it was difficult for her to try to work, take care of my sister who was older, and then try to take care of me. I was very young. And so she was a nurse and worked weird hours. And so I was instantly separated from my mother. And now, you know, all these years later, I've done a lot of work around this. And, you know, I understand why that happened. But I also now more fully understand the kind of impact that had on me, that I was left at a very young age, somewhere between the ages of 2 and 5, with, you know, while they were family, it was not my mother, it was not my father. My sister got to be taken, you know, in my mind. And, you know, and I got left behind away from you know, my mother. And so that sort of started things off, probably not in the best way, where I internalized this feeling of being different from and apart from and somehow not included. And on top of it, and, and actually now I don't know if this was caused by some sort of childhood PTSD from that or if I was born with ADHD, attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder. But that is part of my story. And part of the adversity is having those behaviors and how— and it looked really different as a girl because from what I understand, most girls who exhibit ADD usually just have the ADD, not the H, not the hyperactivity. Or at least it might show up differently. It might show up as daydreaminess or over-intent— over-attentiveness to the internal stimulation in the world. And I was— I probably looked more like a boy. I was climbing walls and had tons of energy and couldn't sit still. So there's another thing that made me really different. And, you know, I learned— and it was also, I'm 50 52, just had a birthday. I'm 52. And at the time, at least in this country, in the United States, they didn't even really recognize ADD. In fact, they called it minimal brain dysfunction, which sounds even worse than ADD, in my opinion. And, and they certainly didn't think girls had it, and they didn't know. So something was wrong with me. And they didn't really know. And so by the time I got to elementary school, And I was, uh, I remember kind of had this vague recollection of being really different from the other kids and not being able to sit still, and the teacher wanting to have me in a different class. And at the time, they would separate out kids who, who were behaviorally different for whatever reason. They'd group them together, you know, whether that was because you had an intellectual disability, a learning disability, a developmental disability, they didn't care. They just they took you out of the regular classroom and put you into the quote-unquote special classroom. And so this is what was being considered for me. And fortunately, my mother advocated for something different. But what I learned from that experience was that in fact it just confirmed I was different. I wasn't the right kind of girl. Um, you know, I was climbing trees, I shouldn't be climbing trees. I couldn't sit still, I should be sitting still. I was super creative, I shouldn't be that way. I played with, you know, ants and roly-poly bugs, I shouldn't do that. And I needed to put up this mask and be somebody completely different. And God forbid I ever ask for any help from anybody.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 09:15
How old were you when this first started, like when you first became aware of of this being different?
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 09:22
And yeah, um, I think it was probably in the first or second grade, which translates to about, you know, um, what is that, like 6, 6 years old, 7 years old? And I was on— add on top of it, my mother had me, um, join school earlier than most kids, so I was a year younger than most kids. Um, so I already was emotionally more immature, just developmentally appropriately more immature than the other kids in my grade, and that certainly didn't help. And she did that for pragmatic reasons, I believe, you know, that there was no childcare, and, or she couldn't afford childcare, single parent, nurse, and so go to school. And I was very smart. I already read. I, you know, had done all these things. It's just I learned differently, and I had a different nervous system than other people did, and they just didn't understand that. And so, yeah, I was very young, and I remember, oh gosh, so many times getting sent out into the hall because I couldn't regulate the same way that other kids could regulate, even though I tried desperately and I tried really hard, like I said, because I learned I had to put up this mask. And I don't think I was cognizant that that's what I was doing, but that's what I learned how to do. And this continued on and I sort of suffered through, I never got any educational help. I'm so grateful that that is different for kids now. I never asked for help. I never got it. I always felt like I had no idea what was happening. And luckily I was, I mean, I guess I was born with some understanding of things because I was able to sort of scrape by and even sometimes do well. And, you know, every once in a while there would be a, you know, an amazing teacher. Like I remember I was in an experimental class in the fourth grade with this wonderful teacher and it was very different. It was like the first time time, you know, like school made sense to me and I enjoyed it. But it was this experimental classroom. So it only lasted one year. And then by the time I got to middle school or junior high school, it became increasingly difficult for me to try to mask it. And I felt like I needed something. And so I was living in Pennsylvania and I started experimenting with drinking. So I had an older sister. Still wasn't legal for her to be drinking either. But, you know, she, she, she was 18, I was 12. So she sort of introduced me to it, you know, for the funny thing to do with your younger sister. And, and so I immediately was like, oh, this is, this is good. And so, and I remember one of the first times that I drank, you know, intentionally, I certainly had had different like intentionally for the effect. And I had this plan and I was going to go to, um, the, the arcade. We had arcades back then. And I went to, you know, the kitchen and I grabbed whatever alcohol was there and I mixed it all together into a huge mug. And I thought, I'm going to drink this for the effect that's going to happen. And it was god-awful tasting. I choked it down and I was like, yes, this is it. I felt like what I imagined what everybody else felt like normally and went to the arcade and suddenly instead of being the awkward, you know, my name is Melissa, but my nickname was Missy at the time. And I think my mother even called me miscellaneous Missy. You know, I had, I just, I would fall up the stairs, not down the stairs. I mean, I just, you know, I was, I was I forget that character from the, the Peanuts, but it was the character who has like all the dust swirling around him. That's who I was. And so for the first time, I didn't feel that way. And I thought, well, this must be the answer. And then things started, you know, life was sort of shaking out a little bit and kind of working out. And I did have a set of friends. And then my mother said, We're going to move 3,000 miles away. Sorry. And I was devastated. This was in middle school, so like around the age of 12. So very, you know, developmentally very challenging to move 3,000 miles away from any semblance of anything. And so we moved in the middle of the school year to a place called Mill Valley, California, which in the '80s, you know, in the '60s, it had been sort of this, like, awesome place where Jerry Garcia from the Grateful Dead and, you know, all these people were. And that's what my mother was attracted to. And so we moved there. But it was by that point in the '80s, a very, like, wealthy place. We were very not wealthy. We lived in a tiny little apartment. You know, my mother probably thought she was doing the right thing. And I was devastated. Everything that was even— I was sort of kind of getting a foothold. Yeah, I was experimenting with drinking, but I had a few friends. I played lacrosse, sort of getting a foothold on life. And I felt like the rug was pulled out from underneath me. And, you know, this is back before there was the internet. We didn't even— like, you had to get special permission to call someone because it was a long-distance phone call and it costs a lot of money. So I just was, you know, absolutely devastated and I rebelled. And I, you know, moved to Mill Valley, California, and I started acting out like crazy. You know, I would hitchhike for the sake of hitchhiking, just to go somewhere different with somebody. I would go to parties with older people and drink crazy. And this was not that unusual. It sounds like it was, but there were plenty of people who were doing just what I was doing. And, you know, I remember, you know, driving with people on Highway 1, which is this sketchy, very turny highway down to the beach, you know, drunk. And that we didn't die is kind of a miracle. But this is how, you know, life was. I Engaged in all sorts of behavior that, you know, I think anyone would have regrets about and, you know, did really dangerous things. And it was this combination of rebellion and, you know, burgeoning alcoholism, ADD, untreated, everything untreated. And, you know, and it just kept going on and on. And at some point, it was a really cool thing at the time for people to get sober, like young kids to get sober. And, uh, I wasn't really interested in getting sober, but, um, everybody was doing it and there was a cute guy. So I did this for a little bit and it was probably the best thing that ever happened to me, right?
Aveline Clark (Host) · 16:44
What age were you? Sorry, what?
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 16:46
About 14, 15.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 16:48
Okay.
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 16:49
So, I mean, truly at the time I had enough of an alcohol problem that, you know, anyone clinically looking at me, had they known the truth, would have said, you ought to go to rehab. How did you get help?
Aveline Clark (Host) · 17:02
How did you get it at that age? How did you get access to it?
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 17:06
Yeah, I mean, you know, so Mill Valley, California was a really interesting place because as much as it was this crazy town where everybody, you know, People's parents were never around, whether they were working or they were off traveling or playing music. I don't know. I mean, you know, it was a crazy, crazy place. And but so we all kind of like, I mean, in some ways it was like Lord of the Flies. We were all just sort of like these, this like parentless people left to do our own crazy stuff. And so, but we also like kind of took care of each other. So I remember, like I said, it was like somehow cool for people to get sober. And there was, um, there I— oh, I know what it was. I was, I was start— I started dating a guy who was sober. He was older than me, and there was a very, um, interesting, um, like group, like a young person's group And so he took me to like one of the dances or something. And I ended up, you know, as I was doing crazy stuff, ended up being infatuated with a different guy, broke it off with that guy and started dating this guy. And, you know, and we were all in this AA crew, this Alcoholics Anonymous crew, this 12-step crew. And we even got special privileges at school, like we could get each other out of class and that kind of thing if we were having issues. And it was kind of this magical time in so many ways. To be, you know, finally part of some sort of tribe. And, uh, and that was amazing. And that lasted— I was, let's see, that was from, I guess I was in about the 10th grade. And then my mother said, we're moving again. Um, and so we moved from the San Francisco Bay Area down to Los Angeles. And I, you know, I just— the rug got pulled out from underneath me again. I tried for a little bit to, um, to stay sober, and I went to some meetings down there, but it just wasn't the same. And I think I was looking for a way out, and I found this gal, uh, who went to the AA meeting that I went to, um, in Santa Monica. And she was like maybe a year or two older than me, and she just had her stuff together, you know. She like She looked so confident and she had this job in downtown LA and I thought that was really impressive, right? You're like a high school student and you also have this job in downtown LA. And I was like, that is so cool. And she's like, well, I can hook you up with this job, maybe get you a job. And I was like, this is amazing. And so I ended up going with her to this job. And it all sounded like amazing. It was this nonprofit organization and we were like, our sole job was to give away books to schools all across the United States that would help kids get off of drugs and alcohol. And I was like, sign me up. And they hired me. And I was like, this is amazing. Like, who hires this? Like, you know, 15-year-old kid. I think at some point I turned 16 because I could drive. And, you know, I, I, it was amazing. Well, it turns out there's a reason why they hired me, and that is because they were Scientologists. And so, so Scientology, for those who might not know, is— I'm just going to call it out— it's a cult. Some people would call it a religion, but I'm going to call it a cult. And, um, and the reason I call it a cult is because of how it behaves. You know, it's every— you have to be 100% buy-in or, you know, there's something wrong or bad with you. And they do everything to try to get your buy-in. And so this was an offshoot. This was a nonprofit run by the Church of Scientology. And, you know, so they started to reel me into the Church of Scientology. And I was still not drinking, but by that time I had met a guy at the actual job, but like the, the job I really got on my own, which was, um, I was a bookkeeper for a, uh, a boat hull scraper. So we lived near the, the marina and he scraped barnacles off of boats and he needed a bookkeeper. So that's what I did part-time. And that's probably all I was qualified to do. But then, you know, so I had met this guy who was significantly older than me, and why my mother never said anything, I don't know. At 16, he was 24. In this country, if you do anything, uh, physical, that's illegal. Um, but here I was with this 24-year-old guy. I'm working for the Church of Scientology. I don't necessarily think of it that way, but that's what's happening. And I decide that my life has, you know, I, I've arrived. I no longer need to be sober. I probably can just, um, audit. There's a process in Scientology called auditing, and I was like, I could probably just audit my way out of this. I don't, I don't really have a problem with drinking. I'm just not in the proper place on the tone scale or whatever they called it. So, um, I ended up drinking with the, the 24-year-old, and I was off and running again and ended up quitting the Scientology gig. And I guess because it was pre-internet days, it was very hard for them to track me down. But it was a crazy experience to be part of a cult. So, and you're probably wondering like, when does the adversity end? When does it end? I'm getting there.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 23:04
No, no, it's enthralling. So are you still in the cult? How long were you in the cult for?
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 23:10
Gosh, I mean, it had to be a good year.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 23:13
Okay, okay.
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 23:14
Yeah, yeah. And I mean, I remember they did try calling me a bunch, and, um, you know, they were, uh, I think if they had known, could figure out where I had moved to, they probably would have found me. I know that they kept calling. I moved out at this time, um, into more or less into my way too old for me boyfriend's apartment. And so even though I technically still lived with my mother, I was there all the time, and I don't think they could find me. Um, but they continue— I think my mother said they continued to call for like years after, um, I, I had stopped being part of that. Who knows, if I had stayed, maybe I'd be like famous like Tom Cruise. I don't know, maybe.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 24:01
Did your mom know what was going on? Like, did she see it for what it was at the time, or did she just think it was a My mother, um, you know, had her own stuff going on and she just was not available or present in that way.
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 24:17
Um, you know, she was very— I mean, I, I don't, I don't know. Yeah, she was, she just had her own things going on and I don't think she had any idea. And I certainly didn't share with her that I was in the Church of Scientology. Um, I don't know if she realized how old my boyfriend was. If she did, she probably should have done something about that. Interestingly, at that time, and, you know, I mean, I just, I kept, I don't know why I had all these things that would just continue to happen with me, but I did manage to get a job as like, I think I lied and got a job at this guy who worked in Marina del Rey, which is sort of a nicer part of LA. And he was a venture capitalist. And it turns out he was a total creep because he, he was something like 65. He had married a 40-year-old, which is fine, whatever. But then one day when I was working for him, um, and I was asking, I think I was like sort of trying to hint at maybe getting some more money, and he said, well, you know, there's a way that you can get more money. And I was, oh cool, what's that, Jack? And he said, well, you could sleep with me every Wednesday and I'll give you an extra whatever dollars. And I just started to laugh because I thought he was joking and I could And I, of course, he wasn't. And, and, you know, somehow I continued to work there. And it's like, I don't know what I mean, he had tried to convince me that this is just how women got ahead. And I didn't buy it. I certainly didn't sleep with him. And eventually, when the 24-year-old said, why don't we move to Hawaii? I said, sure. And, you know, so, so We moved to Hawaii and I guess I was like 17 by then. School was over for me and I moved with this guy and the gal who had gotten me the Scientology job, who she was also out of the Scientology job and we moved to Hawaii. So, and my mother let me even though I was only 17, but I guess she saw the writing on the wall, you know, and And my life continued. And this guy ended up being abusive, both emotionally and physically. And so, you know, at some point I had a little bit of clarity and decided to try to escape that situation and moved back to Northern California where I had originally been from, you know, from the original move. And my life was still super crazy. And that guy followed me. Followed me. And, and unbeknownst, I mean, like, it's, I say unbeknownst to me, but I must have known. I mean, he moved, he moved in with me again. Like, I don't even know how it happened. And he ended up when I, you know, and I, he was so awful. And I remember when I saw the writing on the wall, I'd come home and he was mad at me. And he had written, he had taken a crossword puzzle. And he had written the words bitch in every single you know, B-I-T-C-H, and a knife in the wall with the crossword puzzle. And I thought, I better leave. Something's going to happen that's, you know, worse than anything. He had hurt me before, but not terribly, you know. And I always kind of thought I deserved it, you know. And so I, being the different, you know, untreated ADD, untreated alcoholic that I was, And so thankfully, I had a friend back from high school, and his family was amazing, and they took me in. And, you know, life kind of just went on, and I sort of stumbled along, you know, drinking and, and, and, you know, driving when I shouldn't be driving and doing things I shouldn't be doing and feeling shame and, you know, just really not having a whole lot of a lot of hope. And fast forward many years of that, like, it's just sad, you know, and in Alcoholics Anonymous, you know, in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, I think there's a story, the founding member, Bill Wilson, who says, and then I drank like that for like 10 more years or something. And you're like, oh my God, how do you do this? But that's what I feel like is that's That's what was my coping mechanism. And so many, many years later, I remembered when life just— I mean, the thing is, is that amazing things will still happen. At that time, I still met my husband, who I'm still married to 27 years later. And amazing things will still happen. But my internal life was just awful. And so, you know, I somehow like made it. I don't even know how, like somehow stumbled through community college and I ended up going to Berkeley. Like it's crazy. Like I had this crazy life while like this double life. And they do talk about that in AA, like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And that's very much how I felt all of the time that, you know, I was these two people, the person who had it together and then this crazy person. And, you know, at some point, because I had remembered my prior experience with AA, I was like, I have to get sober again. And I did. And so by that time, I had moved to Portland, Oregon, had started law school, which was just ridiculously difficult thing to do while drinking. Just, you know, I remember being as hungover as anybody could be trying to ride my bicycle up what they called Cemetery Hill. So I had to ride my bike through the cemetery to get to school. With like 50 pounds of law books on my back. And I thought, this just cannot be like the way life should be. And so I got sober, or I hope what was the last time, in March of 2000. And when I was in my first year of law school, and I didn't even tell my husband. I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want to blow it. I didn't want anyone to have expectations. I didn't want you know, to show yet again that I couldn't, you know, do this thing called life. And so I didn't tell him, you know, I think for like a month. And then I was like, oh, I got to tell him now. And then I didn't know how to tell him. So I didn't tell him for like 6 months. I mean, he knew clearly I was different and I wasn't drinking. And I finally did. And You know, and I started really working the program as they talk about during law school. But I still had this thing and it was amazing, right? Like all of a sudden it was like every window was open, every door was open, and the air was let in in so many ways just doing that. But I still had this thing called ADD, and I still was masking a really big part of myself and very much felt like an imposter and still wouldn't ask for help. And, you know, just, I managed to make my way through law school, pass the bar exam, become a lawyer, but still always felt like that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde person. There was this lawyer person who seemingly had it together. And then there was this other person who, you know, even though I wasn't drinking and I wasn't lying and I wasn't doing crazy things, I didn't think like other people. It took me longer to do things. I forgot things. I felt very different. And I didn't want to tell anyone and I didn't want to ask for help. And the law, at least in this country, exacerbates that. The whole culture of law is that, you know, people exploit your mistakes. That's what we're trained to do. Find where somebody else is wrong, exploit it, make sure they know, the judge knows, everybody knows. If it's a big case, it's in the And so you really don't want to be saying that you're somehow weak or different. And I thought mistakenly that if I told people that one, I was in recovery for alcoholism and/or two, that I had ADD and maybe thought a little bit differently than other people, that that would be the end of it. I was certain of it, absolutely certain. So I just continued to hide who I was. But the more I hid who I was, the more divided I felt and the more like separate. And I felt like I was living these separate lives. And at one point, you know, my husband kind of called me on it and was like, like, I don't even know who you are. And it was really putting our marriage in a lot of difficulty. I think I don't. I don't think I was conscious of it, but I think it was putting my sobriety, um, at risk. And it was like, I've gotta either like integrate my life and be who I really am, or I don't know what's gonna happen. And so, I mean, it really got to that, that tipping point. And, you know, And I thought, well, I don't— and I was terrified, you know, from the trauma of being a kid who was left, even for good reason, you know, left behind. The kid who had to hide who she really was. The kid who drank and then had to hide what I had done, you know, to the adult who had done the same thing to the, you know, adult who— and I just thought, I can't tell people who I am. Who I am. And, you know, my husband and I fortunately survived that. And I was able, I think I had to take this in stages, you know, I had to, it wasn't like I had this epiphany of I have to be integrated. And then I just did that overnight. You know, it was a probably I'm thinking a decade long process. Where, you know, and I mean, I was already like working the 12 steps, I was meditating, I had a spiritual practice. So it's not like I didn't have those things. But even with all of those things, I just couldn't, I couldn't cross that line. And let people know who I really was. And, and I'm not saying that people should shout from the rooftops, you know, what their problems are, who they are, but there ought to be some authenticity, right? And it ought to be integrated in some way. And so the first stage was, you know, integrate. And by that time, we'd had a child who was very young. And, you know, I was like, I don't, I don't, I don't want to model this for my daughter. Right? Like, and, and I don't want to be this for me. And so the first stage was integrating who I really am. In my home life, in my marriage, in my relationship with my daughter. And so starting to like actually tell the truth, not that I was lying, but like actually offer up, hey, I don't feel really good about that, or gosh, I feel like insecure about this, or, you know, my brain doesn't work the same way. I don't know. And even just saying I don't know was like one of the most empowering things. I could do, or I need help. And integrating that, integrating, you know, my, my sobriety and that life, um, into my marriage, because it— I had just kept it separate. It was like, here's my marriage on the one side of things, and then here's what I do in AA, here's my spiritual life, here's my marriage. And it was like, no, that— and the marriage wasn't going to survive that. And so the first step was integrating and really letting my husband in. And thankfully he wanted in, and he was really so supportive and so helpful in helping to integrate, and then integrating with my daughter. And then the next area that was probably the most challenging, and maybe still is, is work. So my professional life and trying to like integrate you know, who I was. And it kind of came to same thing, like a tipping point where something had happened at work. And I was sort of being called— I always felt like somebody was accusing me of lying, even though I wasn't. And, you know, I have all this integrity now. And I just remember being baffled. And, and then what I finally understood is that people saw me really differently than what I saw myself as and how I thought I was being. And it turned out by having that mask and not letting people like really know who I was, not again, like I said, I don't have to tell people I'm in recovery or I have ADD, but by putting that mask, I had this like edge to me, this really sharp edge. And, and so that's what would bump up against people, whether it was at home or in the workplace or out there in the world. It's this really, really sharp edge. And so when things got kind of difficult at work with that, I was like, I, I know what this is. This is the, the ADD and, you know, the ism and, and like not being who I really am. And so then came the work of integrating, you know, myself at work. And I'm still a lawyer. And I always find it interesting that I decided to go to law school while I was super crazy. And so I do kind of— there's a pin in that. But one of the things that I have done is I've become— I find it so empowering. And the first time I did it, it was crazy. But I was like, I am going to start telling people in the appropriate moments that I have ADD and I'm not going to be ashamed about it. This just is what it is. And I'm actually going to find the strength and the empowerment in it. And same thing with my sobriety. It's a little bit easier because now, you know, it's been almost 23 years of sobriety. And I think at the time that I was doing this, it was, you know, 17, 18 years or something. And so, you know, a little bit easier because there's a lot of time. But I was like, you know, I'm not helping myself by, by keeping this part of myself separate. And all of these good intentions that I had, I was basically undermining them with these sharp edges of who I was without really telling you who I was. And then I also thought, if I want to, you know, make an impact at all in this world, people need to know that you, you can be like a pretty decent human being in life even though you've had a lot of crappy things happen, and even though you've done a lot of crappy things, and even though you're wired differently than other people, you can still have a full and amazing loving successful life. And I was like, well, if I hide that, like, what good is that doing? So I started telling people, you know, both in my personal and my professional life, my truth, and just being who I was in the moment, admitting my insecurities when that seemed appropriate. And it was crazy because, you know, I had previously thought like my whole world would fall apart, and instead It turns out 99% of the people out there are supportive, maybe even impressed sometimes, which is always bizarre to me, but they are. And, you know, if anything, that little bit of vulnerability, kind of like Brené Brown talks about, is, you know, that's our in. That's how we connect with people. And that's the very thing that was missing my entire life, was the true connection with other people. I mean, I would get, you know, bits of it, of course, but like that true deep connection with other human beings happens when we're vulnerable. And so now, you know, I feel pretty integrated. I, I still practice law, as I said, I work for a government agency and I went and got certified to be a mindfulness facilitator. And so I actually facilitate mindfulness on a monthly basis, practices with, with other lawyers and other people in my, in my government. It's a very large government agency. And that is a trip. The first time I did that, I, I will fully admit I was so nervous because it was like, I am showing up exactly who I am. In every way. Because when I lead a meditation, I'm not the lawyer, you know, confident linear thinker. It's, um, you know, I'm vulnerable and I'm usually a little bit softer. I'm real. And so it's like, all these people are going to know this, and it was okay. In fact, it was beautiful. You know, the first time I did it, it's like, I don't I don't remember if I cried, but I know I have at some point, like in gratitude that I get to be like, like I get to do this. This is crazy. And I've led educational programs where lawyers are required to do educational programs every year. And I've led hundreds of people through mindfulness practices and have also co-presented on imposterism and like, what's that? And I tell people exactly my truth. Whether they're law students or lawyers or judges. And, you know, currently, I recently became a certified coach, life coach, I guess I call it self-development, but self-development coach. And I'm in a practice now of learning somatics. And I just love it. It's so amazing. And, you know, my current theme for the next year, I just had my birthday, as I mentioned, and I I was like, I don't have to wait till New Year's to come up with my goal for the year. I'm going to do that now. And so my goal is to integrate even more fully this part of me that loves working with other people. I sort of have the side hustle, if you will, of doing podcasts and exploring mindfulness and purpose and all this wonderful stuff. And. And then coaching people, you know, who want to be coached, you know, outside of the regular workday. And, and just into— and so my, my goal for this year is sort of integrating like all— like, how can I bring more of that part of myself into my day job? And what I realized is, was bringing some of my day job into, you know, my extracurricular activities. And I was like, how could this be more fully integrated? So I think that's, you know, so I guess that's, that's, you know, that's my, that's my goal for the year and sort of my, maybe my theme for my life. I don't know. It's, it's how to be more integrated and to be fully in acceptance of each and every part of me. And that, you know, I have seen through the years how what I would call darkness is really a light for somebody else. And by sharing that, you know, that I can help— I, you know, I might have a chance of helping them, but it for sure as heck helps me. By giving it away, I get to keep it.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 44:55
Wow. Um, my head's kind of spinning with everything that you've just shared, and There's just so much vulnerability, like you said, but so much power in that integration. And I'm sure there's, you know, there could be hours of conversation and, you know, peeling back around this. What a beautiful life mission, right? To be fully integrated if one could actually achieve that. I've got a question about coming through that. So there's obviously that pivot point where you chose to be more integrated and show up more fully in all aspects of yourself, did you have someone to help you or to be a mentor or a guide?
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 45:34
Yeah, I would say that I had many, really. You know, I— so in, in 12-step, it's fairly common practice to have what's called a sponsor. So that's basically a mentor, right? Who's somebody who has been through the 12 steps and maybe some adversity themselves.. And so I have a sponsor. I am a sponsor. I have a sponsor. And it's this beautiful, you know, relationship where I can really— and it just so happens she also is a lawyer. So that was helpful to have that commonality. And she really understood that. And interestingly, she went from being, you know, a lawyer to a very different position, like a different type of job as like a spiritual counselor, which makes so much sense. And, you know, certainly, you know, other people who are in the program have been there for me and I for them. But I mean, definitely did not do it alone. I have therapists, I have a coach, I have friends that, you know, yeah, there's no way I could have done any of this without them and my family support. And, you know, I mean, people who don't even know they're your mentor are your mentor, if that makes any sense. Like, you know, way back when I, when I, I kind of skipped over one little part. I got sober for a second time. This is my third time. I kind of skipped over this, the second time when I was in the Bay Area and had gotten sober for a couple of years. And I was introduced to meditation as a concept. And there's this beautiful place called Spirit Rock Meditation Center. It's kind of world-renowned. And Jack Kornfield, who's very well known in that world, is one of the teachers there. I didn't know any of that. I just like, somebody was like, my sponsor at the time was like, we should go out to Spirit Rock Meditation Center. I was like, okay, you know. So I go and like blown away. And I, that was when I started meditating. And so I feel like I've had, you know, meditation mentors since that time. That was, you know, 20, 5, 6, 7 years ago. And, you know, like, I mean, I've met Jack Kornfield, I've talked to him, but I doubt he would have any idea who I am. But I consider him a mentor because, you know, I went to Monday night Dharma talks and, you know, still will listen to him, take classes from him online. There's a guy out of Toronto, again, he has no idea who I am, Jeff Warren. He's an amazing meditation teacher. He's on the Calm app and he's just, he's got OCD, ADD, and a whole host of problems. So he's an amazing teacher for people like me. You know, so these are people that like, they don't even know that they're my mentor, but they are. But definitely the ones that are close to me too, you know, my sponsor who has guided me through the steps. And, you know, she about 10 years ago started suggesting strongly that I go to Al-Anon, which is a different 12-step program. It's for people who are, who have family and/or friends who suffer from alcoholism. And it's, to me, it's like black belt sobriety because it's all about relationships. And so I started doing that in the last several years. And that, you know, I, so she helps me with that as well. And certainly all of those people are tremendously, tremendously helpful.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 49:18
It's so true that, well, from what I hear from all the conversations I have and my own life, you really can't go through life alone. And certainly coming out of adversity, it's, you know, we need people to help us and we need mentors. We need people to, you know, shine a light and hold the hand out and, you know, create that space for us to come through, don't we?
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 49:43
Yeah, yeah. I think, you know, I mean, if we come into this world sort of alone, I guess, but, you know, we don't live in this world alone. And, you know, it's the connection with others. That's why we're human, right? It's that connection with other people. And so that's how we're able to do what we do. Whether that's coming through adversity or being supported in something really amazing, we're all on the same team.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 50:15
Yeah. Yes, absolutely, we are. We're human. I love the way you wrap that up. I'm so grateful for this. I just looked at the clock. My gosh, that's gone fast. Melissa, thank you so much. One last question for you as we go to wrap up. If someone is listening to this story who is going through anything similar to what you've been through— sorry, I'm going to have to edit this last bit. Sorry about this background noise. Okay.
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 50:46
I love it because it's the human thing that's happening. You have humans where you are in your space, and it's amazing.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 50:53
Maybe I won't edit this at all. I do have humans in my space. Yes. And I can't do anything about that noise, um, even though it's relaxing, right?
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 51:02
Yeah.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 51:03
Okay, my question for you: if there's someone who's listening to this who can relate to any of what you've shared, especially the imposter syndrome, the ADHD, that, you know, the mask wearing, the split lives, Jekyll and Hyde— I mean, anything, um, the alcoholism— um, if they're resonating, is there something you'd like to share with them now? That might make their situation feel a little bit less challenging?
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 51:33
It's so hard because I know how real that narrative feels in the moment, um, and it's so— it seems trite to say like, oh, know that you're not alone, and you know, look for the look for the helpers and, you know, look for the hand that is there. Because the truth is, it feels very lonely when you're in that space, and it does feel all-encompassing. And I guess, you know, maybe in hearing a story like this or like somebody else's, there might be that identification of like, oh, I'm not alone. I'm not in this by myself. And I would definitely encourage anyone who's feeling that way to, to reach out, you know, to someone and just make, you know, anyone that connection. And I'm— I can be that one. If you want to call me, if you want to email me, I'm here for you. I really am. And, you know, there are all sorts of groups that are out there. If one can, you know, that, that if one doesn't connect with you, you know, another one might. The truth is we don't have to do this alone, and the more we do it with others, the more joy we have, the more hope we have, and the more connection we have.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 52:58
Thank you, Melissa. So, so true. And I'm really humbled that you've made that offer to people to connect with you. That's really gracious and heartwarming. Um, thank you. Thank you so much for sharing your story. And you said at the start, you don't know if you had enough pain. I think you've had a lifetime of, of pain in different respects, and thank you for getting to this point to share your story with me and our audience today.
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 53:26
Thank you. I'm very grateful for that, and I'm grateful for this opportunity. And I know how many amazing stories, and I can't wait to hear them all. Um, and, you know, thank you for your presence and being, you know, I don't know what people can see and what they can't see, but what I see is such an open and present human, and you made telling my story very easy, and I really appreciate that. Thank you.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 53:53
Thank you for saying that, and you're very welcome. It's been a joy. Have a lovely day, um, and I look forward to connecting with you again. Thanks.
Melissa Chureau (Guest) · 54:00
Yes, thank you.
Aveline Clark (Host) · 54:05
We hope you've enjoyed this episode of Kintsugi Heroes. Please like and share the show to your friends so we we can get this out to even more people. If you have a story you'd like to share with us, please reach out using the contact details below. Join us next week for our next hero story. Until then, keep being you, and remember that we are all heroes in our own unique way.
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