Last week, I went on my first ever first date, totally sober.
Alcohol and I have always had a complicated relationship. I remember the first time I drank, it felt euphoric. I remember thinking to myself, nothing would ever be as good as it is in this moment.
I drank heavily in high school, starting at 14, and when I left home for college, I told myself I was going to change. I was no longer going to be known as a party girl, and I was going to dedicate myself to school and my future.
I blacked out the first night I arrived in the residence dorms.
Now, over ten years later, and I’m finally looking at my relationship with alcohol with eyes wide-open.
I’ve been choosing to drink less and less, and recently, I had to go stone-cold sober due to a health issue.
I’ve moved to a new city, and I was half-on the dating apps—you know, getting a sense of what’s out there for when I would be really ready to date—when I met this guy. He was sweet and charming and before I knew it, we were exchanging phone numbers and he was asking me to go out the next week.
Shit, I thought. I can’t! I can’t drink!
Instead, I decided to challenge myself. I told him outright I wasn’t able to drink at the moment, but would still be happy to meet up if he wanted. He said, of course. And the next Thursday we were meeting for mocktails in a 20s style bar in central London.
Here’s what this night of romantic sobriety taught me:
- We really don’t need alcohol to have fun. I kept thinking that while I was off drinking, I had to be a recluse and not do anything. But that was far from the truth. Instead, I chose to do nearly all the same things, just taking away the drink. I went on a sober date, I met some girl friends out at a bar and ordered a non-alcoholic cider (though, I did go home early when they all started doing shots), I went out to dinner, and I slept well and woke up sans hangover.
- Nowadays, most people don’t really care if you’re not drinking. The only person who cared was me. The guy I was going on the date with didn’t care. My friends didn’t care. And if any of them did, I do feel that would be telling of the kind of people they are. Had the guy asked that we wait until I could drink again…I’m not sure, maybe that would have been a red flag.
- There is a wonderful person inside of you that alcohol has been masking. On non-sober dates, I almost always feel some kind of spark — is it really the other person or is it that euphoria I felt all those years ago? On non-sober dates, I laugh a little too hard at not-funny jokes, I spill all my trauma; sometimes, I sloppily kiss them in the back corner of a dingy bar. I never really want to do these things, but alcohol convinces me I do. Sober me is much more mindful, aware, and talks candidly while acknowledging this person in front of her is still a stranger. I actually felt more myself on this sober date than on any other dates before.
- Mornings are a beautiful time of day. There’s a reason there’s a group called Hello Sunday Morning. I loved being able to go socialize, and then wake up, remembering the whole night, not having a massive headache, and being able to still do all the things in my life I want to do. I could focus on my writing, go for a run, and even binge-watch TV without that lingering feeling of guilt.
- Romance is not found at the bottom of a whiskey glass. I always romanticized my relationship with alcohol. I thought love would be found in those sloppy kisses, in those late-night deep talks in the corner of the bar. But those relationships, dates, situationships have all, well, clearly not worked out. Maybe romance is found in those early morning runs. Or on a walk through the park. Maybe romance is found in peeling back the layers I’ve been hiding under, and getting to know the real me for the first time. Maybe romance will come as an afterthought to my own love story. Who knows.
I’m not sure yet what the next stage in my relationship with alcohol will look like when my health is back to normal.
I don’t want to go back to college blackout days, but I also wonder if we can have an in-between. A mindful way forward that allows us to be more deliberate in our choices.
My first sober date was a first step. And I think, if anything, that was a brave step in the right direction.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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