My response to my mom recently when I told her I was excited to celebrate my 1 year of sobriety and she asked, “so do you think you’re an alcoholic?”
Today is my 1-year-sober-aversary and you’re probably thinking(like most people who’ve asked me, why I choose not to drink): “Wow, this must be so incredible for someone to overcome alcoholism and finally beat that addiction they had been struggling with for many years…”
For the purpose of sharing my experience, I want to start off with the disclaimer that I am not an alcoholic. Alcoholism is incredibly devastating to those it impacts and this reflection is in no way a “how to cure alcoholism” guide.
Many people with alcoholism never seek treatment.
There are 15 million people in the U.S. who struggle with an alcohol use disorder and only 8% of them seek treatment. (Talbott Recovery)
Alcoholism affects more than just the person struggling with it, at a global scale.
Worldwide, 3 million deaths every year result from harmful use of alcohol. This represents 5.3% of all deaths. (WHO)
My experience is not one of alcoholism but rather a realization that I really like life without alcohol.
Now to set the scene…
I started drinking when I was 15. By “drinking,” I mean taking a sip of a Fireball fifth in high school, or bringing a pack of beer to the beach with friends. I was pretty nerdy in high school but felt accepted and cool in moments when taking a shot like “hey, look what I can do, I can drink faster or more than you!!” — I look back on it now wondering how I could ever feel that way but hey, I was a kid!
At some point, drinking and hanging out with friends went hand in hand. Like “Hey, it’s a Friday night what are you doing, want to bring beers to the beach?” or “Let’s just get someone else to drive us to the birthday so we can drink, I’ll bring the Malibu!”
By the time I went to college, drinking was not only a norm, it was a way of life. Being the person who could drink “shot for shot,” encouraging people to go out every night, or hosting mini parties in our dorm with handles of cheap vodka was the fast track way to getting a lot of friends.
I joined a sorority and later became president of that sorority, I became an honorary brother of a fraternity, I went to every wine Wednesday, thirsty Thursday, and associated weekend debauchery. Socializing and drinking were synonymous.
I have many nights I don’t remember fully, I embarrassed myself more times than I care to mention, and I lost a whole lot of self-esteem.
From the time I was 18–21, this was the story of my life. At 21, COVID put an abrupt end to college in the middle of my senior year and what did we do? We drank.. and drank… and drank. I mean, what else was there to do? Drinking was the way to spend time with friends and “relax” and so as a post-college pandemic graduate that was what I considered the norm.
As you can probably predict at this point, that didn’t go super well for me.
So where did it all go wrong?
It’s not all alcohol’s fault.
I had hard things happen to me — we all do or will at some point. When life started to get especially hard and with COVID aftermath in my own life, I internalized a lot of it. The self-esteem I had lost throughout high school and college was catching up to me and I felt incredibly alone.
The point here is to say that bad stuff happened, unresolved past issues in my own life haunted me, and what did I do — I partied. I didn’t go to a therapist, I didn’t lean on a friend, no. I went out and I went hard.
I woke up one morning barely remembering the night before until I realized I had totally kissed some random man at a bar who was not my partner at the time.
My partner and I had been together for almost 3 years at this point. I thought I would spend the rest of my life with this person and I threw it all away in a blacked out episode. This day will always be the greatest regret of my life.
I had hit my rock bottom. There had been many drunken nights before this one, but this was the first one that cost me everything.
Is this story ever gonna get better?
Soon after my rock bottom and the demise of my relationship, I decided it was time to quit alcohol and work on myself. I was so embarrassed to tell people I wouldn’t drink and feel sad that I searched for ways to avoid the topic. Alcohol was so interwoven in everything I did that it felt like me existing in spaces didn’t make sense if I wasn’t clutching a drink.
Work happy hour? Golden state cider.
Friday night out with friends? Espresso martinis.
Saturday morning brunch? Mimosas.
Times with friends almost always involved drinking.
When I heard some of my friends were running a half marathon, I signed up. I had never been a runner or ever run more than 2 miles consistently, but I needed a life boat and quick. When people offered me a drink in the month leading up to the race or asked why I wasn’t drinking I said, “I have a half marathon coming up! Gotta train! Next time!”
This was an easy scapegoat — and boy, did I lean into it.
After the half marathon, I had to develop different tactics to avoiding nights out. I would make early morning plans so I could lean on the “I have to go, I have something early in the morning!”
I searched for cool experiences to make up for the “cool experiences” and connection I was missing out on at the bars.
Soon after deciding to quit alcohol, I went home for a visit and was faced with questions or dismissed with doubts.
“What do you mean you don’t want a glass of champagne? It’s a celebration.”
People would ask, “so when are you going to start drinking again?” or “can’t you just drink less?” to which I would say “I’m just trying this out for a bit, it’s not something I’ll do forever!”
I searched for things to join that make sense for people who don’t drink. I leaned hard into a running club. I started to pile on responsibilities at work to stay distracted. I searched for side projects to pick up.
I went to my first concert where I didn’t have a beer in my hand or something to “relax with.” Instead I opted for the now widely popular Liquid Death.
This was the first time I had really been out dancing and vibing to music without alcohol. It was a lot more fun than I had anticipated.
While trying out activities that used to be big drinking times for me like concerts or happy hours, I also sought out more things that I knew drinking wouldn’t be involved in just to make it easier and not have to awkwardly explain why I wasn’t drinking, like camping!
Months earlier, my manager had encouraged me to do a half iron man with him and as it got harder to live the life of going out I had lived before — I took him up on that offer and signed up. I even encouraged a few other friends to sign up too.
To work towards this goal, I filled my day with healthy habits and structured routines that would leave me exhausted by night time and feel less sad I wasn’t going out on a Friday night.
I trained for 2 hours a day for the half iron man. I was starting from scratch with swimming and road biking. I leaned on friends with more experience to teach me.
I went on a trip to Peru with friends. I never felt left out of the drinking. I was only sad when I missed out on trying things specific to Peru like pisco sours.
I continued training for the half iron man and I was having fun doing it. I ran a faster half marathon. My body changed a lot. I got a lot leaner, my skin cleared up, and I had so much energy.
I spent a lot of mornings at the pool to train for the half iron man. I had no prior swimming experience. I didn’t miss days. Even on vacation.
I went to a drinking-themed birthday weekend without drinking — and enjoyed it.
I biked up a very steep, 2 mile hill in San Francisco every Friday with a friend.
I went to a music festival with no alcohol and had a blast with friends.
I had a game night for my birthday with fried foods, la croix, and lemonade.
I sang a lot with friends.
I met an amazing friend in the wild who also doesn’t drink much. We bonded over biking, game nights, food trucks, and social issues.
Oh yeah, I did that half iron man and I did pretty well. The day after I started training for a marathon.
I made a TikTok about relationships, marathon training, and my feelings towards sobriety. I didn’t have a big following but went viral a handful of times. I got noticed at a concert once which was also cool. It connected me to a lot of women specifically who were going through similar transformations.
I took some remote work time and spent time in NYC. I didn’t like the lifestyle as much but enjoyed the nightlife for a 2 week stint. I had fun dancing at clubs with friends without alcohol. I leaned on energy drinks to stay out until 4 am.
I ran a turkey trot with my family. You don’t know my family, but this is incredibly abnormal. I forced them to do it with me. I decided that if I was changing, I was taking them with me.
Remember when I said I started training the day after the half ironman, yeah, I got a stress fracture right before the finish line in Honolulu. I learned about overdoing it the hard way. Still finished. But it wasn’t pretty.
I spent a lot of time with my family after my injury and was forced to find new hobbies. I learned how essential being able to use your legs is to life. It gave me a sense of gratitude for exercising, and even walking.
I started planning more events in SF for tech alum from my alma mater.
I had a LOT of game nights. I drank a lot of seltzer water and arnold palmer.
I started taking Spanish lessons and volunteering in Spanish. I met women from all walks of life. I now coach a running program for girls in the group, I help them scale their brand to lock in more partnerships, and teach the moms computer skills like how to use the Google suite of tools to support their side hustles.
I bought a house that my family is moving into soon.
And now I’m here.
And I still pop bottles — as long as they’re non-alcoholic champagne.
I always cared about my perception and that made quitting alcohol hard in the beginning. There’s a quote I heard/read in one of my sober podcasts/books that sticks with me:
Alcohol is the only drug where if you don’t do it, people assume you have a problem. — Chris Williamson
This quote is something I reflect on every time I get a question like “why not just drink less?” or “why aren’t you drinking?”
I won’t do the history justice but there’s a ton of material on the history of alcohol, how it was marketed to society, and the lasting impacts that it has had on health and culture. The incredible book by Holly Whitaker, Quit Like a Woman, is a fantastic place to start.
If you told me before this happened that I would become someone that runs marathons or would even dream of doing an iron man (I hope to do a full in the near future), I would not have believed you. I didn’t expect that I would ever choose reading a good book over going out to a bar. I never imagined I would enjoy dancing as much as I do now or be able to socialize confidently at a happy hour without a drink in my hand. I was never someone that would have swapped a Saturday morning brunch for a weekly Spanish lesson with my tutor.
Everyone has their own relationship with alcohol but the truth for me is that I am so much better without it.
My lifestyle has changed a lot but because I’ve found things that I like doing so much that I don’t want to numb how I feel or feel the need to elevate an experience with a beverage. The relationships I have with people are so much more intentional. I don’t waste time a morning after a night out with a hangover.
The key for me is creating a life I love enough that the thought of missing out on it, even for a few hours, upsets me. I only choose things I enjoy doing whether that’s connecting with friends, volunteering, or staying up till the late hours to research some obscure topic that interests me. I notice things I didn’t use to notice. I feel energized by the problems around me with a relentless desire to solve all of them. Quitting alcohol unlocked a sureness and confidence in myself that empowers me to solve them — or at least one.
I’ll be joining a cohort of builders this month to work on an idea I have around empowering others to reconsider their own relationship with alcohol or at least provide them with more intentional opportunities.
And no mom, I’m not an alcoholic!
