Choosing Sobriety After Not Fitting Into Our Drinking Culture

I’ve been called a “lightweight” plenty of times over the years when it comes to my alcohol consumption—or lack thereof. My husband used to joke when we were dating that I was a cheap date — I was. Give me a couple of light beers, or a large glass of white wine, and I was set for the night. In all honesty, throughout my twenties and thirties, I drank far less alcohol than the majority of my friends and family members. Getting super drunk and having a hangover the next day was never my thing.

Don’t get me wrong: I have plenty of funny stories that involve alcohol and good friends. Like that time I tripped up the stairs after barely making curfew and carefully saying goodnight to my parents only to fall all the way back down the stairs, landing at their feet. Thankfully, I typically didn’t overdo it. My college experience, however, was a very different story.

I went to a small, liberal arts college, and as it turned out, if you weren’t in a fraternity or sorority and didn’t like to drink, there wasn’t much else going on socially—or so I thought at the time. The pile of college photos that reside in a shoebox in my basement include one of me wearing a toga, beer in hand, and plenty of other photos taken at various themed sorority/fraternity mixers. I’ll admit, I had a lot of fun my freshman year—the freedom from my parents was exhilarating and I liked being able to do what I wanted, when I wanted. But I definitely felt out of my element a lot of the time in social situations. I didn’t like being around people who were drunk. By my senior year, the partying novelty had worn off and I was often the roommate who left a crowded fraternity early to go home and sleep with my cat.

I never liked drinking in excess because of how it made me feel. I didn’t like feeling out of control in my own body. I’ve always been somewhat of an anxious person. I was a shy and sensitive child and I grew up to become an overly-emotional adult. I now know that I’m a Highly-Sensitive Person (HSP) and, because of this trait, I often experience things on a much deeper level. Needing to fully process the surrounding environment at all times is my jam. You can see why drinking in excess just doesn’t work very well with my personality.

I never considered myself to have a drinking problem. There were many occasions where I’d be out with friends and I wouldn’t drink because of any number of reasons: I didn’t feel well that night, I had something important the following day and didn’t want to be hungover, I was on an antibiotic and was encouraged not to drink while taking it, or I just plain didn’t feel like it. But, looking back on my late teens and early twenties, I was uncomfortable with how people around me made me feel like I was super weird for not drinking as much as they were. I hated having to turn down a beer or a round of shots because it would turn into a whole thing. I’d be called out for not drinking and not being fun. Like I was intentionally ruining their night out by not slamming shots.

But in my mind, I was thinking, “What does my alcohol consumption have anything to do with you? Why can’t you just be my friend and skip the judgment on how much or how little I drink?” I am fun, just as I am.

Although it was painful, I eventually freed myself from some of the alcohol-driven relationships I formed with friends in college, and I found that I was in a much more comfortable space, socially. I moved to a new city to be with my boyfriend, who had a wonderful group of friends who were super social but also really moderate drinkers. I fit in much better with them and only then did I realize how warped my own experiences with my college friends had been.

The rest of my twenties and early thirties were socially enjoyable. I got married, changed jobs several times, my husband and I bought a house, we had our first child; and throughout these many changes, alcohol was never an issue. I drank socially on weekends with friends, but was always responsible about it and was usually the designated driver, which was fine with me. In my mid-to-late thirties, I found myself deep into parenting, with two kids and a husband with an extremely demanding job, who traveled a ton. It was a lot to manage. I was as physically and emotionally exhausted as I was lonely and longing for companionship and comfort. Or was it the other way around? Doesn’t matter.

Enter Mommy Wine Culture. Enter the cute mom-squad tank tops and tumblers that say There’s a chance this is wine on them. Kind of fun at first, but tacky and unnecessary, in all honesty. I recently threw out a few of those tumblers because they made me feel icky and I don’t want my daughters reading what’s on them and thinking it’s normal for moms to drink that much.

For many women, motherhood comes with the need or desire to calm your nerves after a long day with the kids. I honestly didn’t think it was an issue at all whatsoever for at least five years because everyone else I knew was doing it. I knew I could stop, but it had become a habit that perpetuated anxiety and depression and I didn’t see that for quite some time.

I can’t quite pinpoint it, but at some point in my late thirties, my drinking changed from occasional to often and alone. If I had a bottle of wine in the fridge, I would need to drink some of it that night. It was too tempting because it was there. It was a small enough change—masked by society’s normalization of moms who need to drink in order to deal with their kids—but it was noticeable. Even if nobody else noticed it, I did, and I knew deep down that this wasn’t working for me and that I needed to make a change. In essence, I was rewarding myself with drinking after a long day and then was berating myself the next day for doing it. I didn’t realize what a horrible self-loathing cycle I was in.

So, here I am: age forty-one and choosing sobriety after two decades of not really fitting into the trendy drinking culture that is still so prevalent in 2021. So far, I’m loving the power that comes along with my choice. I know I’m choosing a healthier lifestyle for myself— one that will impact my family in a very positive way. I’m starting to feel a bit more free from some of the anxiety that came with drinking over the years, like a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Maybe it has always been my destiny to choose sobriety; I just didn’t know it until now.

Maybe this mama doesn’t need wine after all.

About Laurie:

Laurie Bardon Syphard is a freelance science writer who is just starting to write personal essays on mental health and sobriety. She has been a maternal mental health advocate since the birth of her first child and has led various fundraising efforts for mental health-based non-profits. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two young children, and a goofy labrador who acts like a third child. She is a year alcohol-free.

Instagram: @soberempathmama