Ah, the inevitable black yoga pants – check. A hair color that cleverly camouflages roots – check. A home filled with energetic and noisy children – check. But wait, where’s my mommy’s special juice in a fancy glass? Oh right, I don’t drink.
Let me clarify: I don’t consume alcohol. Not even a drop. I know that might sound strange to many, but please, reserve your judgment. I’m not on some self-righteous crusade to rid the world of alcohol. The truth is, alcohol and I simply don’t get along.
In my 20s, I had my fair share of fun, or at least I think I did; the details are a bit hazy. I spent countless nights drinking excessively and puffing enough cigarettes to fill a hospital’s oncology ward. I’d swipe my credit card for round after round, tipping well without a second thought. Many weekends found me nursing hangovers so severe that getting out of bed felt like a monumental task, yet I would still reach for that hair of the dog.
There was one memorable night when my sister found me passed out in the basement; she declared, “Well, she’s finally done it. Your sister drank herself to death!” I wasn’t dead, just temporarily incapacitated, and I woke up to a cheeseburger that had made a pit stop on my chest. Funny? Sure. Sad? Absolutely. I was on a slippery slope.
I wouldn’t say I was addicted to alcohol; I didn’t wake up craving it or need it to function. I just had a habit of drinking too much. One drink led to another, and before I knew it, I was in over my head. I’m not downplaying the seriousness of alcoholism; it’s a real issue that causes immense pain for many. My binge-drinking was a cycle that, had I not stopped, could have easily morphed into a full-blown addiction.
Fortunately, my story doesn’t end with a night in jail or a tragic accident. Instead, I found out I was pregnant, and that was the turning point. Like many expectant mothers, those two pink lines meant saying goodbye to my vices for the remainder of my pregnancy. I thought I’d return to my old ways after the baby arrived, but I never did.
Initially, I avoided drinking to kick the smoking habit that always accompanied it. However, as time passed and I stayed away from alcohol, I realized I was better off without it. My relationships improved, I felt healthier, and I didn’t have to deal with hangovers or extra weight from late-night fast food runs. I’ve now been sober for over seven years, and I genuinely feel happy without alcohol.
My lifestyle choices may not align with those of others my age, but they work for me. I still enjoy happy hours, albeit with a Diet Coke in hand. Gone are the days of awkwardly explaining that “No, I’m not pregnant—again!” I have no issues with those who drink around me; if they can wake up and tackle the day without feeling like death warmed over, then more power to them. My friends have come to accept me for who I am. No longer do they wonder if I’m tipsy or just acting a little quirky—they know my truth.
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In summary, my journey to sobriety has transformed my life for the better. I’ve found happiness in a lifestyle without alcohol, allowing me to thrive as a mother, wife, and friend. My choices may be different, but they are mine, and they work.