Girls weekend

On the way home from my annual girlfriend's weekend away, I was asked if I would be writing about the experience from my now sober perspective. Honestly, it hadn’t occurred to me. I replied, saying I thought it would be a boring post to read. I’m not sure my friends initially took it as such, but it was a compliment. I’m so used to writing about the inner conflict, the uncomfortable moments, and there was none. Not drinking this weekend for the last two years has been easy.

But I got to thinking. Maybe it is essential to sometimes write about the times between the times. Perhaps I shouldn’t dismiss the easy experiences that get lost in the mix of the challenging ones. This writing might be missing the conflict that makes my words feel so important to express, but like the pause in a good song or the rest day in a good workout regimen, it may be necessary to the overall story.

The recipe for a good girl's weekend with a mix of sober and not-sober people is 1. The not sober are not annoying people that get more annoying when drunk.

And 2. All parties are open-minded, understanding, and respectful of each other's decisions and paths taken in life.

Check and check.

I find my girl's weekend just as much fun without booze. I can't believe how hard that would have been to believe at one point. I watch my friends that still drink go from drinking to drunk to hungover, and not one piece of me envies them. I respect that they’re having fun and feel that the booze is responsible for that fun, but I’m not buying into that idea anymore. I feel like I have the same experience without feeling uncoordinated, numb, and unclear. Without the slurred speech, blurred vision and eventual hangover. Sure, I’m not staying out as late, but it seems to me they don’t remember most of what happened after I left anyway.

I love waking up knowing I was in control and did what was right for me. I love to wake up feeling good and knowing whatever I said, I said with a clear mind. Whatever I did, I did with intention. I love to wake up with no anxiety or lost memories. I don’t miss having to piece together the night while feeling the stir of uneasiness in the pit of my stomach. I’m totally fine leaving behind the “you were so funny drunk last night” stories because they were never that funny to me. These stories, for me, were laced with shame and desperate for the validation of others.

I don’t even want to be tired. When I look at the clock and see that it is after midnight and do the quick math on when I’ll wake up and how many hours that will be. I’m like Cinderella. I need to get my ass in bed. I don’t want any of my time to be spent not being my best self. I have no room for the negative aftermath of not properly caring for myself.

I can only hope that these words will be received with the honest, good intentions that I write them with. It’s tough to feel strongly opposed to a substance like alcohol and write about it while carefully navigating how to express myself without sounding judgmental to those consuming it. It's crazy to me that if we were talking about cigarettes instead, no disclosure would be needed. How are they different? Why do we openly shame smokers but protect drinkers? Maybe both need to be reevaluated.

What’s right for me is not right for others, and I know my truth isn’t popular. It quite possibly feels to others like an over-exaggeration or an uncool outlook. Three years ago, I would have protected alcohol's honour like it was a dear friend of mine and spoke with conviction for the other side.

I’m not sure if not drinking makes me not as fun to my drinking friends. But what I know to be true is regardless of whether I’m more or less fun for them, they don’t give two shits. They want what is best for me over and above anything else. I’ve never felt lame, or like I’ve disappointed them, and I hope that I never make them feel uncomfortable and hope they see me showing the same regard.

The fact is that despite our differences, this group, when together, can be 100000000% themselves around each other, and that's a testament to the maturity of its members. What we create on these weekends is a judgment-free space where it’s safe to say or be anything. It’s as if a protective bubble separates us from the world, and it’s fucking beautiful. Since the day I quit drinking, this group has made my bubblies feel the same as their wine, and my presence feels just as necessary to them. Their support has come so naturally that, at first glance, I thought it was nothing to write about.

But I’m glad I did.

Some drink, some don’t, and we all laugh—a tonne.

How lucky are we?