Coming Out Of The Gay Closet Was Easier Than Coming Out Of The Alcohol Closet

Coming Out Was The Best Decision of My Life.

I came out of the closet (you know, the closet) about 35 years ago. Although it was only to a select group, it was a big deal to me.

But when I met the woman I knew would become my life partner, I decided it was time to introduce her to the people who meant the most to me in this world … my parents. They immediately accepted and loved her as a daughter, and that closet door flew off the hinges, never to be put back again.

About six years ago, my partner started noticing that I was drinking too much for my own good. To her credit, she was right. But as anyone who has been seduced by alcohol’s quick fix to fill emotional and spiritual voids knows, denial is the first line of defense.

Four and a half years ago, I stopped drinking. I’ve written at length about my journey to sobriety, so I won’t rehash it here, but what I haven’t touched upon is that I hid my sobriety even more than I had hidden being gay.

Back Into The Closet I Went

Once I came out to my parents, it was easy to come out to everyone else. I was comfortable in my skin, and apparently, so was everyone else.

But coming out of the alcohol closet was different.

People automatically assumed I was an alcoholic. And that assumption came with a closet full of negative labels.

I would tell someone I was gay, and they’d look at me like … “Yeah, so?”

But if I told someone I no longer drank alcohol, you would think I had told them I was thinking of walking into the Vatican naked and demanding an audience with the Pope to absolve me for my drinking days.

I’d do anything to avoid those “Oh, you poor, miserable, alcoholic who can’t have fun drinking like other normal people” looks.

I received this reaction so much—from friends, relatives, waiters, and perfect strangers—that I bought new hinges for the closet, put the door up, and started creeping back in.

Only those who knew of my struggles with alcohol knew the details of my sober journey. Everyone else was treated to the sugar-coated version.

“I’m not drinking today because … my stomach hurts, I have a headache, I’m coming down with something, I have a big day at work tomorrow …” and a thousand other excuses to avoid the truth.

“I don’t drink anymore because it makes me an angry, selfish bitch who puts the temporary relief alcohol gives me over everything else in my life.”

I once told a waiter I was donating a kidney to my sister the next day so he’d stop asking me if I was sure I didn’t want a wine glass just in case I changed my mind.

It worked. I got a free meal out of it. And I don’t even have a sister.

Hey, don’t judge me. I know you’re dying to try it.

Slowing Coming Out of the Alcohol Closet

During the pandemic, when so many people were abusing alcohol to beat the fear and frustrations brought on by quarantine isolation, I began writing articles about my journey to sobriety.

At first, my writing was tentative, and I rarely wrote in the first person. Then I got a little bolder and started posting links to my stories on social media.

That’s when the closet door started to creak open.

It wasn’t long before the responses and comments I received blew the door and the hinges off its frame. Readers started sharing their stories of struggles with alcohol and asking me what I had done to stay sober for so long.

At first, I was reluctant to give advice because I knew from experience that what worked for me would not necessarily work for someone else. I quit on my own; someone else might need rehab, AA, or medical intervention.

Who was I to offer advice?

But writing about my struggles with alcohol was cathartic, and the more I wrote, the more I attracted the sober curious and those who had been sober a lot longer than me and had a lot to teach me.

My struggles with alcohol and the pain I went through had found their purpose. Sharing my story was—and continues to be—the best way to turn that time in my life into something meaningful.

Now that I’ve started writing about it, I can’t stop. It has become my mission to share as much as possible about my challenges with alcohol so that others who recognize themselves in those challenges won’t feel so alone.

What about you? I’d love to hear about your journey to sobriety. Let’s start a conversation.

Barb Besteni is a writer, spiritual seeker, former rock star, and animal lover who, at 65, finally achieved the below 20% body fat composition that eluded her in her younger days. After 35 years of writing, copyediting, and producing content for local, national, and international television news, she left the newsroom for the comfort of her home office. Get an email whenever Barb publishes a new story on Medium: https://medium.com/@barbbesteni/subscribe.