You guys,
It was December 25, 1992. The most magical day of the year.
The first thing Mom offered to any adult who entered the house was a cocktail and a smile. Dad drank gin and tonics out of the Spode Christmas tree glassware only used during the holidays. Uncle Rick swallowed me in a bear hug and rubbed his beard stubble all over my face. Everyone laughed and conversed at a few decibels louder than normal.
My 8-year-old brain internalized one simple truth:
Drinking alcohol was special.
I was 13 years old when I took my first shot of Grey Goose, stolen from above the washing machine at my friend’s house during a sleepover. I was no rule breaker. Quite the opposite, actually. Parents and teachers loved me and the other kids called me a suck-up. But this was one rule everyone seemed to be breaking, and it was what all the older kids did at parties.
Now drinking was special and cool.
These associations carried well into my 30s, until I finally noticed the negative effects of drinking. Lowering my inhibitions and losing control no longer felt fun. It felt embarrassing. The window of feel-good happiness no longer lasted all night. It only lasted 1-2 drinks. The after-effects were much more pronounced and resulted in fogginess, irritability, and less patience with my partner and our two babies.
And yet, I didn’t stop drinking. It wasn’t because I loved the taste or the way it made me feel. It wasn’t even because I was addicted.
It’s hard to stop drinking alcohol because I have such strong-rooted positive associations with it.
Sometimes you tell yourself a story that serves you. Until it doesn’t. When I was a kid I told myself I had to be tough to protect myself. When my older brother teased me I teased right back. When someone made fun of me I acted like I didn’t care. It wasn’t until my late 20s when I started therapy and made new friends that I felt safe to be vulnerable. The story that I needed to have a rough exterior no longer served me.
The story I told myself about alcohol — that it’s special and cool — is no longer true, and no longer serves me. Now I have a new story:
The idea of drinking alcohol is more appealing than the actual experience.
I’m in the bedroom when I hear the sound of air being released from a bottle as my husband pops the cap off a Dogfish Head Punkin ale. I feel a quick rush of adrenaline. Ooooh, a drink! How elegant, how adult, how fun!
I scurry to the kitchen to join in the festivities. We clink our beers and cheers to making it till 4pm.
The first sip tastes like Fall and nostalgia. Field hockey and football, crunchy leaves and cool weather. Halfway through the beer I feel a little bloated and tired, and remember that my field hockey days are long gone and I don’t even like football anymore.
I still have these fleeting moments each day where I think, A drink sounds good right about now. But then I think, Does it really sound good right about now?
And the answer calls back knowingly, No.
If I were to go to my parents house this Christmas, 30 years later, and see the whole family drinking and laughing and shouting, I would see things differently.
I see Dad with his eyes glazed over, repeating the same thing he just told me five minutes ago. I see Uncle Rick climb drunk into his car to drive the 45 minutes home. I see my sisters, vodka martinis in hand, animatedly telling a story about a person I’ve never met. And there I am, drinking a glass of red wine, thinking about how horribly I’m going to sleep that night, and how I’m going to feel the next morning when both my kids wake up at 6:30am.
Drinking alcohol is not special or cool.
And by the way, did you know mornings were awesome???
OMG I Have The Most Brilliant Idea
You know how a Bed & Breakfast has themed rooms like “Island Getaway” and “Catherine’s Chamber”?
What if Sam and I turned our guest bedroom into a CHRISTMAS-themed room.
ALL. YEAR. ROUND.
Is that not the best idea ever??
Each year I decorate our guest bedroom for Christmas and go all out. Eddie Bauer holiday sheets, a red and white snowflake quilt, snowmen tissue box cover and trash can, Santa shower curtain and bath mat, Christmas tree hand soap, the list goes on. Currently, the only people who enjoy this winter wonderland are my in-laws because they visit in December.
If you come visit us in March, how would you like to stay in our Christmas-themed guest room?
I know. You probably just got super excited.
Please reply and tell me you did so I can get Sam onboard. Thank youuuuu!!
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Until next week,
Charlie
Mornings are awesome! I haven’t drank in almost 3 years. I didn’t set out to quit, I just kept drinking less and less because I didn’t find it appealing. I can’t stand the way I feel the next morning. Great article.
But you should’ve kept that Christmas themed room idea to yourself 😁
Yes really exciting!