What No One — and Everyone — Talks About at a Sober Event
One of the clearest things I know about sobriety came from a woman at an alcohol-free pop-up bar-meets-book-tour event.
The night started off as cringy as you can imagine for someone by themselves, in a brand new city, freshly 10 months sober. What no one tells you about attending purposefully sober events while sober is that they are not all that much fun. There’s something about recreating a scene from your drinking days and then taking the alcohol out of it that feels like a sick game. It almost drove my craving to drink more.
I had an anxiety attack the first ten minutes of being there and had to step outside. After I stopped planning my escape and reentered the room, I slapped on a picture worthy smile and affirmed to myself over and over what I knew to be true, which is, You are much better off without alcohol, followed by, Be open to the experience.
This event in particular was full of women, replicas of the author, regurgitating nauseating facts about sobriety from the same circle of books, podcasts, articles. The unspoken words floated between every line in conversation, this would be so much more fun with a real drink.
After six or so surface level exchanges where the only common truth we could find was the more we drank the more sober we got, I sat down at the seat holding my jacket and bag, exhausted and depleted. Three women across the table kindly invited me into their conversation. For the first time that night I could feel the air in the room breathe back into me.
They were raw and funny and just so comfortable being here. I believed they truly believed this would in fact not be more fun with real drinks flowing. They offered original stories and ideas full of life and hope. I didn’t need to float around the room to find honest connection, I just needed to find the anchor.
The two hour mark finally came around, the time I promised myself to stick it out (to make the price of the ticket worth it) and I bid farewell to these three amazing souls. My heart now full from the laughs, the advice, the authentic wisdom of people no longer in the messy middle, like me.
One of them pulled me in for the embrace my physical being so desperately needed for so many months and said, “Events like this are amazing. You can look around the room and not have to wonder if anyone has a problem.”
I went home that night and thought about the parties where I would stare across the table at someone’s glassy eyes thinking, “At least I’m not that fucked up. They definitely have a problem,” only to go home and open Google in a private web browser and type, “How to know if you’re an alcoholic?” Justifying you wanted, no, needed, to know for their sake, though secretly knowing you weren’t just asking for a friend.
However, outside of the perfect bubble we created at this event, just because you’re sober doesn’t mean you won’t still have events where you stare across the table at a person you love, whose eyes are so dead inside that you will wonder if they have a problem.
The only difference now is that you go home at the end of the night (though quite frankly much earlier), and look yourself in the eyes and know the answer with every fiber of your heart.
You do the hard, uncomfortable, insufferable things. You go to the cringy events and you repeat your favorite alcohol facts and memorize the quotes and mimic the authors that get you through the worst of it. And you talk about these things over and over and try on these parts and bare the smile through gritted teeth because the culmination of all these seemingly insignificant details will bring you your people, your center, your home.
It is so pertinent that you continue to seek out those who have walked the path before you, however many of the same conversions it might take, for you will meet the ones to provide you the mirror to see yourself clearly.
And all you will see is love.
