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microdosing cocaine

Amanda Baudier

08 Mar 25

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There was a 3 month period in 2006 where I did cocaine pretty much all day everyday.

I carried a little baggy in my bra and did a tiny key bump wherever, whenever.
Not enough to even feel high but juuust enough to cement the fact that something was deeply broken inside me — and no one had a clue.

I had just graduated a semester early from Columbia University with a 3.9 GPA so that I could start a full-time job at the hottest and most successful hospitality company in New York City.

I lived off campus, paid my own rent, (mostly as a fuck-you to my parents), and was by all accounts, a high-functioning member of society.

But just below the surface (or my blouse, as it were…) I was really, really not ok. This was definitely not the first, but perhaps the most extreme way I had abused myself in secret during my 21 years on the planet. It wasn’t until 12 years later that a therapist conjectured that perhaps I was self-medicating my undiagnosed depression and panic disorder with the whole cocaine microdose thing — but that’s a story for another day.

One night out to boxed-wine dinner with my besties who were still actively in college, I confided to them:

“Guys, don’t suggest coke around me anymore. I have a problem. Not like a, I need to go to rehab problem but like uh… yeah, I really can’t do this shit anymore. Don’t offer me any. Don’t let me score for you. I have to be done.”

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So knowing that that is where this story starts, I guess you could say… I’m doing pretty damn good!

And yet, every once in a while — I uncover another layer of my trauma patterning and think, “JFC, does it never end? Will I never reach the bottom of this miserable rabbit hole?!”

Well, now that you know one of — but unfortunately not the worst of — my deepest and darkest secrets, let me introduce myself.

I’m Amanda. I’m a coach, healer, speaker and mom who has been through some shit.

I’m trained in a myriad of things ranging from Executive Coaching to Shamanic Healing, but not because I had some sort of Instagram-friendly, wide-brimmed-hat-wearing career trajectory master plan — but rather…

Because I personally needed (and still need) every single damn tool in the tool box to heal myself.

When I decided I was going to go into this work earnestly (and I really only ever do things earnestly) — it was essential that I had a diverse arsenal of tools to offer my clients.

I know firsthand what true, soul-excavation work requires. And it’s a whole lot more than mindset hacks mixed with “love and light”.

I recently had an astrologer describe me as a “guinea pig.” That I was basically destined to go through lots of hard stuff in order to become the healer I was born to be.

Big Chiron Energy, if you know what I’m saying.

So in no uncertain terms, my own suffering is the inspiration behind becoming, the umbrella I’m building for my work to take refuge under.

Don’t expect big shiny promises and 8 figure strategies. becoming is about coming home to yourself —in little & big ways — over, and over and over…. We do it together and with so much reverence for the process… even when we’re thinking, “Damn you, Process! Can’t you hurry up just a little bit?”

I’m sick of faux-holier-than-thou spiritual teachers and perfectly polished girl-boss coaches — and maybe you are too.

I couldn’t be one of “those girls” if I tried and to be honest — I’m now fully allergic to trying to be anything but me. I spent way too long masking, hiding, drinking, drugging so what you’ll get in this era is authentic, raw, and yet — despite it all — unflinchingly hopeful.

So if this sounds like a ride you wanna get on, let me extend my most heartfelt thank you — and welcome to: becoming.

If you read this far, I’d love to you to drop a comment below, say hi and let me know what you’d like me to write about (outside of my own clandestine drug use, of course).

I’m new to this whole Substack thing but eager to hear from y’all :).

where “chasing your dreams” meets healing your inner child — subscribe for lots, lots more!

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