Originally, I had a different post in mind. I will share more about my collection of materials soon, but there is something else I want to write about this week.

I recently found myself at a table with three girlfriends enjoying a celebratory dinner. Shadows were getting long on that chilly December day as we gathered at an upscale eatery in the charming Indianapolis, Indiana suburb of Carmel. Blocks crowded with quaint shops stretched out around us; boughs of fragrant greenery decorated our cozy booth and holiday lights twinkled on the ceiling above.

The four of us were there to celebrate an anniversary. Not a birthday, a career milestone, or a relationship. Instead, we were celebrating a sobriety anniversary. One friend had invited us to gather with her to mark and acknowledge two years of living successfully alcohol-free. The remaining three of us were sober as well, two of us closing in on three years and our fourth friend with an impressive thirteen years under her belt.

Before the restaurant, we visited a sleek alcohol-free beverage store (I know, what a concept) where we sampled a distilled botanical “gin alternative” and did warming shots of spirit-less cinnamon “schnapps” out of tiny plastic cups. It was heartening to learn that the shop is thriving and that non-alcoholic beer sales grew by 23 percent in the U.S. in 2019. There is a sense of camaraderie and enjoyment that comes from cradling a refreshment in your hand as well as browsing in a shop with friends and we welcomed the chance to do both.

When I was drinking, I saw the world differently. I imagined that all of us imbibers belonged at one long festive table, laughing, telling stories, and planning trips. We were the interesting ones, the adventurous ones, and the entertaining ones. In my view, the non-drinkers belonged at a separate slab entirely, far off in the corner keeping themselves company with their boring conversations, their vanilla clothing/hairstyles, and their staid and mostly uneventful lives (apparently alcohol fueled my judgmental side as well).

I did form many lasting friendships and connections over my decades as a drinker, and I acknowledge without judgement that there are many adults in the world for whom alcohol is not a problem. However, I’ve also come to understand that much of what I thought was deep and meaningful while drinking was in reality often fleeting and circumstantial. One of the greatest gifts of being free of alcohol is that I settle entirely into each moment of my life, I am truly present in a way I haven’t been since I was a child. I want nothing more than where I am, nothing more than who I am with–especially when I am around people I enjoy and love. There is a sense of savoring that infuses my days and…bonus!…I remember every single detail. No more mental fast-forwarding, gritting my teeth until I can relax later with a drink in my hand in a space momentarily free of life’s bothersome minutiae.

The four of us covered a lot of subjects in our booth that afternoon. The evolution of our personal histories, friendships, relationships. The joy and pain and freedom we have in our sober lives. The pride we feel in ourselves and each other, and the shame we are still working to shed and/or embrace. Adventures we have embarked on since we got sober, ambitious plans we have for the future (sober social pop-up events, anyone?). I felt the tears well up as I described the poignant sweetness and waves of gratitude I experience daily with my family, my health, my writing, my clarity.

I shared a recently-discovered quote with my friends;

“Not drinking has lifted a veil on every part of my life including the bonkers me, the energetic me, the creative me, the poetic me, the loving me, the joyful me, the angry me, the what-the-f*ck me, the connector me, the boundaries-me, the open me, the closed me — essentially all the me’s of me.”

~Susan Christina, Hola Sober

Across the restaurant I spotted a group of friends in their twenties, drinks crowding the tabletop, laughing, and looking at their phones. If they glanced over at us, I wondered what they would see. A table of four middle-aged-ish women sharing a meal, engaged in serious conversation, sipping tea and sparkling water (side note: why are so many restaurants missing out on the potentially lucrative “mocktail” market? No, we do not want tonic water with lime thankyouverymuch, we want something designed to stand alone and taste great sans alcohol).

Do we appear boring and colorless over here in the corner booth, living out our uneventful, dull lives?

Now I know nothing could be further from the truth.