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Sitting in the waiting area of Orangetheory yesterday, I was mindlessly scrolling social media for a few minutes while I waited for our fitness class to start. I overheard the lady next to me talking loudly to someone about her son’s upcoming wedding, and all the work that is going into that.
I wasn’t paying much attention until she groaned about all the time they will have to spend with the bride’s family during the wedding week. “I mean, they seem nice and all but they don’t even drink!”
That made me look up from my phone.
“They don’t even drink.” What does that statement imply? What was this women assuming through this statement that needed no further explanation?
Of course, I don’t really know. She’s a stranger and I’m obviously taking her words out of the larger context of her relationship with the woman she was speaking with, her experience and her life in general.
But I can assume. I can assume she meant it as a jab at the bride’s family. I can assume it was meant to stereotype anyone who doesn’t drink as not fun, and perhaps even not worth knowing. I can assume she’s someone who probably has her own complicated feelings around her own drinking that makes her feel uncomfortable when people around her don’t.
When I was newly sober, I resisted telling anyone about my choice for fear of judgment or stigma. I worried people would see me a certain way, and come to conclusions about me without even giving me a chance. And my fears weren’t entirely unwarranted. I think it’s easy to box people out when they don’t drink, or don’t eat meat, or even follow a specific religious practice. Suddenly, an otherwise relatable person becomes unrelatable and not in a ‘lets get curious way’ but more of a ‘they are different… walk away’ response.
I think about how such a simple conversation on a regular day at Orangetheory five or more years ago would have sent a shiver down my spine. Another blasphemous reminder that sober mean ‘other,’ loser, or lame.
I think about the woman on the listening end of this conversation, who didn’t say much, just occasionally nodding and “mm-hmm-ing” her response. What if she was in a gray-drinking space, or newly sober? What if her partner was struggling with addiction, or she was a child of an alcoholic. Even if these women knew each other well, sometimes our relationships with alcohol hold vastly deep, dark spaces of shame inside us.
I wish it wasn’t like this. I wish it didn’t still feel like college frat house mentality where cool kids drink and everyone else is dismissed as losers. I wish I wasn’t 43 years old still hearing this very narrow-minded opinion spewed out for anyone within earshot to take in. I wish I didn’t feel so othered by people whose only legitimate argument is they are in the majority.
Even as I write this, I feel imaginary comments lighting up from folks reminding me the world doesn’t have to cater to our problems. This is “your problem, not theirs.” Oh, I’ve heard it all. Anytime I speak to bigger issues around pressure to drink, mommy wine culture, and the fact that alcohol is everywhere someone is always a passive aggressive “sounds like you have some steps to work through” comment away.
But I disagree. This isn’t an ‘us versus them’ issue. Not really. Alcohol doesn’t positively affect anyone. Even one drink is considered a risk. And the implications of alcohol more broadly affects all of us: death, addiction, healthcare, advertising, even rise in drinking rate in teens.
Tell anyone who has lost a loved one to a DUI accident that this is “your problem,” I dare you.
This is our problem. Not mine, not yours, not theirs. Ours.
I think about my kids growing up feeling pressured to drink at every stage of adolescence and my stomach churns. This is our problem.
I think about the 50% rise in alcohol-related cirrhosis for women, impacting their health, their families, their futures. This is our problem.
I think about mommy wine culture and the implications this will have on the next generation of children who are growing up believing they are the reason mommy drinks. This is our problem.
That woman at Orangetheory wasn’t much different to who I was five years ago. Fearful of people who are different. Ignorant to the why and how people can live life without the elusive carrot of our next drink lingering in front of us, the infinite loop of just one more. It’s not my job, or anyone’s, to convince her she is wrong or shutting out an entire population of people may have more in common with her than she might think. But it is my job to remind anyone on the receiving end of pressure to drink, ignorance, or feeling shaded for their decisions to abstain to stay the course. That opinions like these are background noise in the larger landscape of things that really matter. Our health, living a fulfilling life, leading by example for the next generation, and staying present.
I’m going to go out on a limb and say I bet that bride’s family is amazing. I would put money down they are fun-loving, endearing people. I imagine they love hard, and work hard, and live affirming, intentional lives. I believe this because it’s how I live my life. It’s probably how you live your life, too.
And we don’t even drink.
My book, It’s Not About the Wine: The Loaded Truth Behind Mommy Wine Culture, is now available for pre-order here.
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