I Looked for Self-Esteem in a Beer Can

A drink I once thought was “icky” impacted my life forever.

Still searching, well into my 30’s — Author’s photo

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I took the first sip of the Budweiser Debbie handed me. We were sitting on the floor in her bedroom in Arlington, Texas, the window half open where her boyfriend and his brother had snuck in. Her dad was asleep on the other side of the house.

“Mmmmmm,” I lied as I took the tiniest sip I could stomach. We raised our cans and touched them as if we were toasting something important. We’d seen the adults do it, and this moment felt very “adult.”

We were 13.

When I’d ask one of my parents for the all-important “sip” of whatever alcoholic drink they were consuming, I had the same response. Gross. I didn’t like it, but they had it, so I wanted it.

We moved from Connecticut to Texas in 1980, when I was 11. Really horrid timing. I was at the onset of hormonal chaos, and all things gawky were thrust upon me. A bunch of my baby teeth fell out late, and my two front adult teeth were huge, therefore giving me a distinct Bugs Bunny-like look. I had unruly hair, started growing an underbite, and was Amazon tall. As I entered the second half of 6th grade, I was 5’7". Taller…