Staying Sober at my Best Friend’s Wedding: Keys to Surviving Triggering Situations
Something about witnessing the heartfelt vows of a couple in love beneath an arbor enshrouded in silk flowers makes me want to run for the nearest bottle of vodka.
Could be that I’ve declared those vows, only to have them rendered meaningless before even two years of matrimony elapsed. Perhaps it’s the in-my-face reminder that the only one sharing my bed every night is a wiggly Cattledog that sheds.
Regardless of significance, one of the toughest hurdles I’ve confronted in active recovery was at a wedding last summer. I’ll spoil the ending: I stayed sober. But it wasn’t a piece of (wedding) cake.
In everyday life, alcohol doesn’t get to me. Grocery aisles don’t make me twitchy like they did in the early days. I can sit at a pub while a friend has a beer without snatching it out of her hands and pouring it down my throat.
But I’m not immune. I still get urges to imbibe. They’re usually prompted by a combination of factors: fatigue, emotional stress, nostalgia, feeling left out or wanting to fit in. If these go unchecked, they can result in intense physical and/or psychological cravings.
My best friend’s Big Day was held on a Saturday in late June. She didn’t have a traditional bridal party, but I was appointed her official attendant and given a variety of tasks to complete. Arriving early in the morning at the hotel where the ceremony took place, we hugged and squealed and exclaimed over her dress. Picking up a glass off her counter, I filled it with water from the tap.
After taking a sip, I immediately spit it out into the sink, disgusted. “The water here’s so gross!”
My friend’s eyes grew wide. “That cup was dirty. I used it for lemonade last night.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Not JUST lemonade, was it?”
She shook her head No. That drink was definitely spiked.
Figures. My first wedding as a sober guest and I kick it off by using a glass coated with alcohol remnants. The only thing to do was laugh, and move on to the nuptial preparations.
The day proceeded as organized chaos. While acting as a liaison between hotel staff and wedding guests, I reflected on my lifelong friendship with the bride and my own failed marriages and relationships. Emotions bubbled to the surface, settling as a dull ache in my chest. It felt a lot like loneliness and regret. The critical job of Bride’s Assistant didn’t allow for much time to pause or show myself compassion.
Weddings can be hard for this exact reason. Single guests like myself may feel left out. Jealousy, melancholy, and fear for the future are common.
It didn’t help that when I scrolled through my emails that morning, I was surprised by a message from a man I once thought would exchange rings with me at an altar. The timing couldn’t have been more distressing.
Being single at an event that glorifies the pinnacle of couplehood isn’t the only challenge to sobriety. Long hours without food, perfectionist goals and engaging with difficult family members or guests can make one long for relief in the bottom of a wine glass.
Cravings aren’t motivated exclusively by negative feelings. Celebrations frequently trigger relapses. Our society conditions us to believe that a party isn’t legit unless it’s fueled by alcohol. Wine and champagne advertisements exclaiming “Elevate the moment with every drop” perpetuate the idea that a happy moment is made even happier by a poisonous, addictive substance.
This wedding was no rowdy party, but once the ceremony ended, guests were directed toward cocktail hour. The room was then transformed into a reception with an open bar. Frothy pints of beer and glasses of golden wine seemed to appear in everyone’s hands. I stood near the exit to avoid getting too close.
My mind played tricks on me. Thoughts like, “You could probably have one—no one would notice” flitted between my ears. I was uncomfortable, and my automatic reaction was to numb the feeling.
“Not the easiest day to be a non-drinker,” I said casually to the person next to me. It was the brother of the bride, a sympathetic soul.
He smiled enthusiastically. “I’ve got a six pack of La Croix in my car, want one??”
I could have kissed him. Which would be weird because A) he’s married, and B) he might as well be my brother for how close we’ve been over the years. He’s the guy I called an “ignorant butthole” when I was nine, trying to get a reaction with my big words. Twenty-six years later, he was the guy saving my ass in a moment of need.
La Croix gripped tightly in one hand, I sent an SOS text to a dear friend. While not an alcoholic herself, she is a teetotaling badass, and also single. She consistently doles out rational advice.
“I’m trapped at a wedding, drank from a tainted glass, got an email from you-know-who, and am hanging out at an open bar reception feeling sorry for myself. I need a drink. Or a cigarette. Or a brownie. Or a man to go home with. Any of them will do.”
She texted right back with her typical level-headed intelligence:
“None of that’s going to fix it. No hot guy. Or drink. Or brownie. Or whatever. It’s just heartbreak. It’s awful and ugly and no one is prepared for it. So you just have to feel it. And know that it’ll pass. In a way. Just breathe through it.”
Nothing was going to fix it. She was right. Mindfulness and recovery have taught me that pain is unavoidable and I won’t always be able to fix it, but I don’t have to suffer unnecessarily. I can meet pain and discomfort with compassion and acceptance, or I can resist and fight it and make myself crazy.
I chose not to be crazier than necessary. Recalling what I’d been taught about relapse prevention, I put my sober tools to work.
- “Keep a drink in your hand” — I had LaCroix, coffee and water in front of me.
- “Reach out to a friend” — Did it and felt much better.
- “Eat something sweet” — Wedding cake. Times two. (I don’t always buy into this one, because I can get out of control with dessert. But it was crucial in this moment.)
- “Breathe”- This is essential. Breathing brings me into the present, fills my brain with nourishing oxygen, and aids in letting go of disturbing thought patterns.
An additional suggestion is bring a sober buddy to events. There’s nothing that can replace the support, accountability and empowerment of a friend at your side.
The reception continued and I found myself enjoying it. I smiled, chatted, had pictures taken with the bride and her daughters. As soon as I was relieved of my wedding duties, I bolted to a meeting.
Living clean and sober has been an education in tolerating emotional and physical pain. Running away, numbing with substances and controlling with restrictive eating or self harm have never solved my problems. Self-compassion, gentle awareness and connection go a long way towards easing them.
I’m not invited to any upcoming weddings, I don’t think. But I won’t be avoiding them either. (So if you were thinking of inviting me after reading this, please don’t throw out my RSVP!)
My goal is to live. To fully participate in life’s ups and downs and learn to ride the waves with grace. Weddings happen to be stellar practice grounds.
Have you experienced cravings or triggers at social events? Do you want to cultivate more resilience, confidence and self-acceptance through a mindfulness based relapse prevention plan? I want to help!
Contact me for a FREE discovery call, and learn more about life and recovery coaching services on my website!
