Black yoga pants? Check. Intentionally dark roots in my hair to mask regrowth? Check. A lively household filled with sticky, noisy kids? Check. Mommy’s favorite beverage in a wine glass…hmm, something feels off.
I don’t drink. Not a drop. Not a sip. Not ever. While that may sound peculiar to many, let me clarify: this isn’t about a self-righteous crusade against alcohol. Quite simply, I’ve realized that alcohol and I aren’t a good match.
In my twenties, I indulged quite a bit and was likely the life of the party. However, much of that time is a blur. I spent countless hours drinking, smoking enough cigarettes to harm others, and racking up bills without thinking twice. Many weekends were spent battling hangovers, yet I’d reach for another drink without hesitation.
There was even a night when my mother discovered me passed out in the basement and wryly declared, “Well, she’s finally done it. Your sister drank herself to death!” Thankfully, I wasn’t dead. I woke up in time to eat the cheeseburger that had fallen onto my chest during my unconscious state. While that moment is somewhat humorous, it’s also a sad reflection of my downward spiral.
I wasn’t addicted to alcohol per se. I never woke up craving it or needing it to function, but I often drank too much. One beer easily morphed into two, then six, leading to a buzz I enjoyed. I don’t wish to downplay the severity of alcoholism; it wreaks havoc on lives. For me, binge-drinking was a habit that, had I not stopped, could have led to something far worse.
My story doesn’t conclude with a brush with the law or serious accidents, though I certainly would have deserved those consequences for my reckless behavior. Instead, I became pregnant and chose to eliminate alcohol and cigarettes from my life. Like many women, those two pink lines prompted me to abandon my vices for the duration of my pregnancy. Initially, I thought I’d return to my old habits after giving birth, but that never happened.
At first, my choice to abstain was linked to my desire to avoid nicotine since they went hand in hand. As time passed, I discovered that life without alcohol suited me. I became a better partner, parent, and friend. There were no hangovers, no extra weight from late-night food runs, and I felt healthier overall. Now, seven and a half years later, I’m sober and genuinely happy.
My lifestyle may not align with most people my age, but it works for me. I still enjoy happy hours, but now I opt for a Diet Coke. I no longer need to fend off questions like, “Are you pregnant again?” I’m perfectly fine with others drinking around me; their choices don’t bother me. If they can manage their lives without feeling miserable, more power to them. My friends understand this about me, and they no longer have to wonder if I’m intoxicated or just eccentric.
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In summary, my life without alcohol has led to greater happiness and fulfillment. I’ve transformed into a better version of myself, and my choices reflect that evolution.