I’m a Closet Non-Alcoholic

Huh? Wait, what? What’s that even mean? It means I’m ashamed to admit I don’t drink alcohol anymore. Or mostly don’t.

I’m not ashamed exactly, but not drinking alcohol in the culture I was raised in isn’t a thing. My parents drank alcohol. So did their parents. So did my husband and I, and all our friends.

I came to drinking alcohol relatively later in life. In my late thirties or early forties. I always believed my father drank too much and I didn’t want to follow in his footsteps. Being a teen in the 70s meant I could forge my own path with pot instead. (One of my regrets now that I’ve matured.) Pot was readily available. I lived in a nice middle-class neighborhood and barely had to leave my front porch to score. I gave it up at 22 when I became pregnant with my first child and have never looked back.

I never drank much. Mostly parties or celebrations. Until I moved to California Central Coast where wine is a tourist attraction. I became fascinated and enjoyed learning about all the different varietals. While tasting them of course. A pleasant way to spend a day with friends.

Touring and tasting. I especially enjoyed finding a great tasting wine in the under $20.00 range.

I formed a habit of having two glasses of wine starting at 5pm through dinner. I never thought I was an alcoholic, I still don’t. Recently, I had decided to take a break from my standard evening drinks. The first couple of nights I fought the desire for it. But after a week or so, it became very easy to resist. I did have to remind my husband almost every night; “No thank you. I’m not drinking.” His response was he was being polite in offering. He hasn’t given up the booze and has no intentions of it. I’d like him to give it up so he could experience the benefits I now experience.

Benefits like the brain fog that I was sure was hormonal, nope, gone. Lack of energy in the afternoons I was sure was menopausal, nope, gone. Interrupted sleep several times during the night, I was sure was menopause, nope, gone. Belly fat, muffin top, I was certain was menopause, nope, gone. My weight went down. I’m not sure how much because after two weeks with the new clarity and energy I am experiencing, I started walking twice a day and lifting weights. Still doing it!

So why be in the closet about it? Why hide it? Because no one wants to know. Facts have destroyed enough of life’s pleasures. If you know giving up something could change your health so greatly, you’d be an idiot not to give it up. Right? Plus, everything in moderation. Right?

Wrong, but that will be another blog post.

Well intended folks want to offer me a drink and me to say; “Yes, please. Let’s get this party started!” And I don’t blame them. That’s the fun inclusive answer. That’s the person they invited. So, for now, that’s what I’m doing. Saying yes, accepting the drink, and taking the whole evening to drink it. At home I’ll be back “in the closet” enjoying my good health and treating my body as the temple it is.