Defaults, Not Defects

AWAKENING on

Defaults, Not Defects

3 Min Read

“I take myself
To have and to hold
From this day forward
For better or for worse
For richer or for poorer
In sickness and in health
To love and to cherish
For the rest of my life.”

— Beth A., Presentation at the 4th Biennial Secular Ontario AA Roundup (2025)

Beth Aich, author of We’re Not All Egomaniacs: Adapting the Twelve Steps for Alcoholics with Low Self-Esteem (2021), suggests that recovery is a relationship — a vow we make with ourselves. Like marriage vows, it is not just for the sunny days, but for the stormy ones too. Recovery is not about perfection, but about faithfulness: a willingness to stay in the relationship no matter what.

This vow feels especially powerful when we think about how we approach what the Twelve Steps call “character defects.” For some who enter recovery weighed down by shame, the word defect can sound like a life sentence — a reminder that they are somehow broken, unworthy, or beyond repair. When someone already feels defective, being asked to list their “defects” can reinforce the very self-hatred that kept them trapped in addiction.

Beth offers another word: defaults.

A default isn’t proof of failure; it’s simply the setting we automatically return to when we are under stress or fear. These defaults are old coping mechanisms, survival strategies that once served a purpose. People-pleasing may have helped us avoid conflict. Isolating may have given us a sense of safety. Lashing out may have protected us when we felt powerless.

They weren’t moral flaws — they were ways of getting by with the tools we had at the time.

But what kept us alive then may not serve us well in recovery today. That’s the turning point. Instead of condemning ourselves as defective, we can acknowledge our defaults with compassion. We can even thank them for their service. And then, with willingness, we can ask for help in resetting them.

This shift in perspective transforms how we approach the Steps themselves. Step Four is no longer a brutal catalogue of defects but a gentle inventory of defaults — honest enough to see where they came from, and clear enough to notice how they may no longer serve us. Steps Six and Seven become invitations to growth: becoming willing to update our wiring, to let go of the old settings that keep us stuck, and to step into healthier patterns of living.

Recovery asks us to make a vow to ourselves: to love and to cherish, for better or worse, defaults and all. It does not demand perfection. It asks for faithfulness. Each day, we recommit — not walking away when our old patterns flare up, but staying present, showing up with compassion, and choosing growth one choice at a time.

Am I willing to cherish myself — defaults and all?

Can I stay faithful to my recovery when my old patterns return?

What survival strategy served me once but no longer fits who I’m becoming?

Which default am I ready to reset today?