The Dismay Of A Teetotaler
By Jennifer Fliss
It’s time to address the mounting social and media pressures surrounding the decision to drink — and to call out the damning stigmas this has spurred.
I am offered a glass of merlot at a dinner party, a beer list at a restaurant, a flute of champagne on a holiday. No thanks, I say. An eyebrow goes up, and as a woman of prime birthing age, the first question is always: are you pregnant?
No, not pregnant.
Driving?
No. I mean probably, but that’s not why.
Whole 30? Mormon? Lent?
No, no, and no.
There’s also the question that never gets asked, but is almost certainly considered. And here’s my answer: no, I am not a recovering alcoholic.
I just don’t drink alcohol. No home-brewed pints of beer. No happy hour margaritas. No mimosas at brunch. Nothing.
This makes me, I realize, a bit of a social anomaly — and my feeling of isolation grows stronger all the time. Every day, it seems, a new meme celebrating booze crosses my social media path. It could be a pun about the difference between whine and wine, accompanied by a photo of a woman staring longingly at a…
