Sober. I hate that word. It sounds so sad. Before I stopped drinking, I basically replaced the word “sober” with “boring.” I didn’t think anyone was sober because they wanted to be. Sobriety was something you had to become because you had a problem. My stance on this has completely changed based on my experience and education on the topic, but I think most people still feel that way and that’s okay.

I have always been good at balancing my different worlds and harvesting different versions of me based on the current need. Stretching and morphing myself into the “Allyson” needed in that moment. Not often saying “no” and making sure I was pleasing whoever I needed to in order to avoid confrontation. The earliest example I can think of this showing up in my life was in high school. My junior year I started dating a guy a couple of years older than me who had just graduated. Since he was older than me, he wasn’t interested in hanging out with me and my friends or going to high school parties. He had a job that required him to wake up early so his idea of a fun Friday night was going to dinner at Rock-Ola Café, watching a movie at his house, then bringing me home and going home to go to bed. My idea of a fun Friday night was drinking half gallon handles of Jose Cuervo straight from the bottle, playing circle of death, beer bonging Milwaukee’s Bests, squeezing 7 people in a Honda Civic to hot box in the Wendy’s parking lot, and making out with my girlfriends to impress the boys in the room. Rather than using logic and breaking up with my boyfriend because we “had different interests,” I proceeded to spend every Friday night having dinner with him at Rock-Ola Café, watching a movie at his house, getting him to drop me off at a friend’s house, and then partying my ass off and making questionable decisions until the wee hours of the morning. Why choose when I can have both? I was having my cake and eating it too! Once I discovered that I could succeed at being the responsible, compliant, well-mannered, and well-dressed girlfriend AND the loud, sexy, fun, daring life of the party, I was SET FOR LIFE. The boyfriend was eventually gone, but the partying stayed and my ability to be everything that everyone wanted was THRIVING.

I kept this up for another 15 years. I was excelling at work and continued to get pay increases, promotions, and rave reviews. I was the best girlfriend turned fiancée turned wife turned baby mama and continued to keep my partner happy and excited to come home to me every night. I was a great friend and continued to stay close with my high school and college friends, always being there as a shoulder to cry on, giving great advice, attending our gatherings, and bringing the party with me. I was a great daughter, granddaughter, niece, and cousin, always showing up and taking part in the family stuff (again, bringing the party with me). Once I became a mom, I was the best at that too, always filling our time with fun activities, going to all the sports, communicating with teachers and doctors, and reading, snuggling, and making my boys feel like the most important people in the world. Being all these versions of myself to all the people important in my life was exhausting but I always, always, ALWAYS found time and prioritized being the life of the party in addition to everything else. For a long time, I prided myself on that. I could stay up until 3 am getting blackout drunk at Local Bar and then take my kids to Sesame Street Live the next day. Hooray! If there was an award for being the most responsible raging party girl, that was me – what an accomplishment!

It was all so fun, until it wasn’t. I don’t know exactly when it all stopped being fun, but it did. I kept telling myself I was having fun, and maybe I was in the moment, but it didn’t feel so fun the next morning when I had to drag myself out of bed for my meeting or when my kid was commenting on my dried-up mascara eyes from the night before. At some point I went from beautifully balancing it all to pretending I was okay 80% of the time when I wasn’t. Chugging Gatorade and stuffing my face with McDonald’s before work just to make it through that 9 am meeting. Giving myself pep talks in the car before walking into the NICU after drinking wine the night before and being scared I was going to have a panic attack while holding my newborn baby who needed help fighting for his life. Asking my parents to keep the boys for just a couple more hours on Sunday morning after they had them for a sleepover so we could squeeze in a few more mimosas at brunch before picking them up. None of that was fun. I finally had to look myself in the mirror and do the math. How much was alcohol bringing to my life and how much was alcohol taking from my life? The answer was clear that alcohol was taking WAY WAY WAY more from me than it was giving. I was getting a few hours of “fun” per week, which I often didn’t remember anyways, and getting back endless amounts of shame, anxiety, guilt, pain, and declining physical health.

Making the decision you want to stop drinking and actually not drinking are two very different things. I started out with a few 30 day non-drinking challenges – Dry January, Sober October, you know the deal. I even went 87 days once. Every time I took a break, I convinced myself I changed and it would be different this time. I had better control. Eventually once I started drinking again, I would find myself in the same situation I was in before – bloated, regretful, feeling like hot garbage, and vowing to change again. I also tried setting ALL the rules. I would only drink beer, no wine. No shots on a night out. Only drinking one night a week. Only drinking four drinks on a night out. Drinking a glass of water between every alcoholic drink. Forcing myself to DD so I couldn’t drink too much. Guess what? None of it worked. Every situation was a different excuse. We’re celebrating or I haven’t seen this friend in a long time, or I had a particularly terrible week at work, or even the best week… I “deserved it.” There is exactly one thing that I did that changed everything. I made the decision to quit for an entire year. I thought about this for a long time before I even said it out loud. I knew once I said it out loud, I might actually have to follow through with it. The first time I brought it up to Korey (my husband), we were out having drinks (naturally). He was WELL aware of my struggles and he had voiced some interest in cutting back as well. When I mentioned the year, he wasn’t super keen on the idea at first but after a month or so of deliberating, we decided we were going to do it together. We decided to start after Thanksgiving of that year and then proceeded to drink our faces off until that date came.

I had my last drink on November 27, 2021, and I can honestly say I don’t think I will ever want to drink again. Not that I can’t ever drink again – I don’t think I will ever WANT to drink again. There’s a big difference between those words. I stopped drinking because I felt like alcohol was taking more from me than it was giving. My hangovers and post-drinking anxiety were becoming worse. I couldn’t lose weight because any progress I made during the week was immediately reversed after one night of heavy drinking. I started feeling self-conscious about my wine breath when I tucked my kids in to bed at night. I noticed I started prioritizing the drinking part over the actual purpose of activities (do we have enough Trulys in the cooler to get through the 3-year old’s birthday party we’re going to? Do we have enough champagne to make it through our boozy Christmas morning? Can my parents come on vacation with us so that they can take the kids back to the room for us when we want to keep partying?). I had a feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right and that life could be better. I spent a long time ignoring that feeling and hoping it would go away. All our friends and most of our family were living the same lifestyle that we were. We were no different than anyone else. I hadn’t gotten a DUI or lost a job or hit any type of rock bottom. This was normal. There was no way that we ALL had it wrong.  

Except that we did. We all had it wrong. We don’t have to be tied down by alcohol. We can live a huge, exciting, adventurous, fun life without it. I 100% feel like I have gained a super-power by giving up alcohol and I want to convince other people to do the same. If I read this before I stopped drinking, I’d be saying “yeah right” and rolling my eyes right about now, but it’s true. The only way you can truly experience the freedom of giving up alcohol is by doing it. Giving up for 30 days or 90 days is a great start, but my recommendation is to commit to a year without it before you decide to drink again. I know it’s a big commitment and I know it seems scary, but if you keep trying to find 30 or 90-day pockets to put your life on hold while you white knuckle some booze-free time, then you’re never getting the full experience. If you commit to a year then you’re guaranteeing to live your life alcohol free rather than agreeing to put your life on hold while you pretend to be alcohol free. A full year guarantees a sober Valentine’s Day, Easter, Memorial Day, 4^th of July, Labor Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. A full year guarantees sober birthdays and weddings and vacations and date nights and parties. If you got nervous about being sober for any of the events I just listed, then chances are that alcohol is playing a bigger role in your life than you are willing to admit. 

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