I’m Not Judging Your Drinking
I write a blog about living alcohol-free (and anxiety, and parenthood, and whatever else I feel like writing about) and almost every single person I know drinks. Things can get awkward. If there was a doormat that said, “Welcome-I swear I’m NOT judging your drinking!” I would put it at the front of entrance to my life. I’m really just not thinking about it.
What I am thinking about is our cultural beliefs around alcohol, systems that perpetuate alcohol use, the role alcohol plays in this country, specific people who have reached out to me for help, why people believe that non-drinkers are thinking about their drinking, and lots and lots of other things (some useful, some not). But if you’re sitting here next to me, I will barely notice if what you’re holding is a stiff ass drink, a bubbly water, a delicious IPA, or a Big Red. I just don’t care that much. Sorry.
I also don’t want your drink. Not in the least. Even if it’s one of my favorite IPA’s from the best brewery in town, a mimosa, a cocktail, a light lager, a glass of red wine, or a Big Red, I don’t want it. Not on a Saturday night, not on a boat, not at happy hour, not at a club, not at a brewery, not at a fancy dinner, not at a bridal shower, not in a house with a mouse, you get the point.
Just recently, we were sitting around talking with friends. Drew, my husband, was explaining his vegetarianism that has lasted for over 20 years. He always hated the taste and texture of meat and when he became old enough to not have to eat what was presented to him, he stopped eating it. Never does he ever want meat. He doesn’t salivate at the thought of steak,. He doesn’t try to recreate meat-like dishes with veggie foods (like tempeh stroganoff). He doesn’t sit around feeling sad as he bites into the food that he likes while everyone else eats the food that they like. He’s NEVER thinking about eating meat. That’s how I feel about alcohol.
Interestingly, though, I have trouble making this clear. I have a great friend who doesn’t drink. I assumed that when I was around her (as a drinker) she was both counting my drinks while also wishing that she could have some. I stupidly believed that there was an underlying desperation for those that “had” to stop drinking. In fact, it was this very belief that kept me from exploring sobriety sooner. I thought I was the lucky one that could still wake up feeling like shit, experience hangxiety, and continuously battle with how many drinks I would have while those poor soles who “couldn’t” drink were fresh, clear, and grounded in what decisions were best for them.
This whole concept is one of the very reasons that I write this blog. I want to openly address so much of the stigma and break down the idea that all non-drinkers are like the scenes from movies that we’ve seen-one drink away from falling off the wagon. Some are, for sure (probably because alcohol is the most addictive drug on the market-more so than the well-known opiates we have no problem recognizing). But not everyone, and not me. Each day I get further away from my old drinking self. I get further away from the memories with me with a drink in my hand, me with slanty eyes, and me dragging people around for just one more. I’ve almost forgotten what wine pairs with what cheese and what beer even tastes like. These days I pine for nachos, dark chocolate, books, writing, deep connection, time in nature, music (preferably live-please stop being here pandemic), cold brew morning coffee with a sunrise, and other things. Not alcohol. Not once. Not ever. I’m just not thinking about it anymore.
I’m not free from judgement. I judge just as much as the next person. I’m working on this. I’m working on how judgement creeps in when I least expect it. Sometimes I judge complete strangers regarding things I really know nothing about and things that are absolutely none of my business. I’m learning that those judgments are actually my insecurities screaming to be healed, to be resolved, or things that I’ve left unattended. In other words, the ongoing work I need to do. Drinking is no longer one of those things. My decision to stop drinking is one that I am most proud of and one that I never ever question.
So the next time you’re around me or someone else who no longer drinks, it’s okay to do you (unless it’s someone you know is struggling, and in that case be a good supportive friend). If you’re not sure, just ask. If you want to know more, just ask. You might find that the answer is very different from what you think. I learned that the reason I thought sober people were counting my drinks was because I was paranoid about the amount of drinks I was having, hence the need to explore how many drinks I was having. Turns out, I was the one judging my drinking.
Originally published at https://www.spaliveaf.com on August 26, 2020.
