New Year’s Eve is the biggest night of the calendar year for drinking, and I will not be ringing it in with alcohol. Of course, it has been decades since I have stayed up until midnight on New Year’s Eve, but I won’t even be drinking at 9:00 pm, either. Imbibing is just not my thing. I do not have a substance abuse problem, nor even a proclivity towards one. I support people who enjoy alcohol responsibly. But for me, the negatives just outweigh the positives.
The first time I drank, I was a teenager at a slumber party. I became violently ill from bourbon whiskey, a Kentucky cultural favorite, that a girlfriend sneaked from her parents’ liquor cabinet. To this day, I cannot bear the smell or taste of bourbon. High school drinking was an important social activity, though it was mostly reserved for parties and prom. The designated driver concept was in its infancy, but I remember driving my boyfriend and his friends around to parties while I abstained. Other friends returned the favor for me.
As a first year college student, weekends were all about fraternity keg parties and convincing upper class students to buy alcohol. I did not like the taste of beer, but Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill wine, which you could buy for a dollar, was tolerable. But wine made me itch, and one night I developed hives that were so severe I went to the emergency room. The doctor gave me an antihistamine and told me that I was probably allergic to the sulfites in wine. That allergy put a damper on my partying because I did not care for hard liquor unless it was smothered in juices or sodas. But abstinence was not cool, so I persevered.
My wine allergy went away with time, and when I entered the work force after graduation, a glass of wine at the end of the day was relaxing. I felt vaguely sophisticated, and less shy, when sipping alcohol. Conversation was easier and, if nothing else, you could always comment on how lovely the vintage was. But every day drinking was out of the question: wine was expensive, and I would rather spend the calories on fried chicken and a Coke, given the choice.
Three pregnancies and years of breastfeeding were convenient reasons not to imbibe. When I stopped nursing my youngest son, the thought occurred to me that I could start drinking again. But I did not miss alcohol, and I could not formulate a rationale why I should start again. Don still enjoyed a beer or two while watching football on television, but a purchased six-pack started lasting longer and longer. When our children were old enough to pay attention, I mentioned to Don that I did not want them to think that we needed alcohol to relax or to have fun.
I remember with amusement my last drink of hard liquor. Don and I and our two older sons surprised youngest son Evan for his birthday while he was in college in southern California. At midnight, as Evan turned 21, one of his friends passed me a shot glass. I drank it, and Evan laughed and shouted to his friends, “my mother never drinks!” As mothers of under-age young adults can appreciate, it was a celebratory moment.
These days, I might slip a little Bailey’s Irish Crème into my decaffeinated coffee while watching a late-night movie. But it makes me sleepy, so those occasions are few and far between. (I would hate to fall asleep and miss the ending of a show I have watched seven times.) And I love cultural traditions, so I do not hesitate to toast newlyweds with a flute of champagne. I just never feel the urge to polish off the glass.
The practical reasons for not drinking – the cost and the sugar, not wanting to drive while impaired, and disliking a mini-hangover and wine breath – are outweighed by something more organic and honest. I do not want to resort to something artificial to diminish social unease or to make me feel less inhibited. My personality changes when I am a little tipsy, and my candid comments become blunter. I want my discourse to be thoughtful – something that is not improved with cocktails.
As I age, I am committed to deep connections and conversations with people. If I need alcohol to help me engage, I should improve my rapport and my listening skills, not rely on fermented substances.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for drugs when it comes to caffeine, as my attitude and motivation improve with morning coffee. When it comes to that, I can rationalize my addictive consumption without remorse.