By: Jenna Thompson
Updated: Sep. 27, 2015
Originally Published: Jan. 28, 2014
It’s been a while since I last sipped on an alcoholic drink—my last was on Christmas, prior to that it was Halloween, and before that, last summer. As time has passed, I’ve started to see alcohol as something toxic to my body. I’ve completely given it up.
My friends who enjoy a good glass of wine might be shocked to hear this. (Let’s not be rude—no need to call them party animals!) Back in high school, while my classmates were busy downing drinks at parties, I was more of an observer. I watched the fun spiral into chaos—tears, fights, and unfortunate incidents with laundry machines. Those experiences made me reluctant to partake. I didn’t want to be a part of that scene, and I heard my fair share of judgment for opting out. “Why even come to the party?” they’d ask. “Do you think you’re better than us?”
Eventually, as graduation approached, curiosity and peer pressure led me to take my first drink, and I dove headfirst into the party lifestyle. I relished the wild escapades that came with it—those stories about free drinks, late-night swims in dubious waters, and adventures on Bourbon Street are unforgettable. But I also faced the darker side of drinking, having been involved with a couple of alcoholic partners. I learned about codependency and the toll it can take. With alcoholism running in my family, I count myself fortunate to have emerged relatively unscathed from my reckless phase.
As I transitioned into adulthood, my drinking habits naturally aligned with societal norms. This moderation continued through my pregnancies and while nursing, leading to a couple of glasses of wine here and there. However, about two years ago, I took up writing. Writing at night while the kids slept made me realize that alcohol didn’t mix well with my creative endeavors. I switched from pouring a glass of wine to pouring words onto the page, and soon enough, my taste for alcohol faded away.
Now, I’ve come to understand that I don’t enjoy intentionally dulling my senses. Life is chaotic enough without the help of substances, and I prefer to keep my instincts sharp. I find that with a clearer mind, I can navigate social settings without the added challenge of a fuzzy head.
Peer pressure has evolved, too. At 35, the social expectation of holding a drink still exists, but I’m less affected by it. When I decline offers for a drink, it surprises people. Friends often think I’m joking when I mention my non-alcoholic choice. It’s a strange feeling, reminiscent of high school, where my sobriety might be misinterpreted as judgment toward others.
Today’s mommy culture often revolves around the need for a “mommy sippy cup,” which can be amusing at times. While some abstain for religious reasons or due to past struggles with alcohol, I find myself wondering if there are others like me who simply prefer a sober lifestyle.
If you’re navigating the world of home insemination, you might also want to check out this informative post about at-home kits, or explore this resource on pregnancy options. And if you’re looking for a quality insemination kit, this site offers an excellent choice.
In summary, I’ve embraced a life without alcohol, finding clarity and comfort in my own skin. While the pressure to drink remains, I’ve learned to navigate social situations with confidence, and it feels liberating. So, yes, I’m still part of the mommy club, just with a different kind of refreshment in hand.