HOW TO OWN IT WHEN YOU’RE THE ONLY SOBER PERSON IN THE ROOM…
By Peggi Cooney | Author This Side of Alcohol | Hola Sober Host + Columnist | TSOA on FB + Instagram |
Now that I am in my fourth year of living my life alcohol-free, I am owning who I am as a sober person. It didn’t happen overnight. It has taken time and practice. Covid was and continues to be a sh*t show. But for me, in early sobriety, it was a blessing. I was seven months without alcohol when Covid hit in March of 2020, and for the next 18 months, it was very easy to stay away from social events. That gave me an opportunity to build a strong foundation, and I had accumulated sober tools to keep it that way. The first significant social event I attended after getting sober was Thanksgiving last year at my son Brett’s house. I made sure I had a plan. I booked my stay in a nearby hotel. I had my AF Gruvi proseco and Athletic beer. I drove my own car so I could arrive and leave when I wanted to. I had plans to take the grandchildren across the street to the park. We had a great time gathering fall leaves and acorns to decorate the tables. I purchased tablecloths the kids could write and draw on. Yet I was nervous, and it showed. I felt alone and different. My family didn’t really know how to be around me sober, and I didn’t know how to be around them. Brett kept asking me if I was okay, and I felt as if there was a spotlight on me. And although he only had my well-being in mind, the more he asked, the more uncomfortable I felt.
It can be difficult to be sober in social settings where drinking is not so easy to escape. We can certainly feel like the odd human out in a world where alcohol is ubiquitous (oh how I love using that word.) Alcohol is the only drug we have to justify not taking. I must admit while firmly anchored in my wine addiction, if I came across someone who wasn’t drinking, I usually didn’t stick around long enough to find out why. Life wasn’t worth living without booze. No one puts this better than my friend and fellow writer Jennifer Bridgman: “I used to feel sorry for people who don’t drink. I judged them. I avoided them. I felt uncomfortable around them. A person’s motivation for not drinking alcohol was irrelevant to me. Whether by simple choice or complicated necessity or any reason in between, my secretly held conclusion toward anyone who didn’t drink was the same: it sucked to be them. If a person simply preferred an alcohol-free lifestyle, they might as well have been from Mars. I felt fundamentally different from them, regardless of how many other traits, habits or hobbies we had in common. We could be friendly, but we wouldn’t be close friends.”
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