Your Version of Boring is my Version of Peace

Change your perspective about sobriety and live a peaceful, not boring, life.

I never understood people that didn’t drink. I always got a good chuckle at the phrase “I can’t trust a person who doesn’t drink!” And, I will admit, I was a pusher. I always encouraged everyone to have just one!

C’mon… it’s just one, it’ll help you relax!

I enjoyed being the life of the party, the funny one with the hilarious and outrageous stories — the outgoing, down for anything girl who could outdrink most men at the party.

I was good at drinking/partying. That was my hobby.

I wasn’t always like that. I actually hated alcohol from the moment I realized my mom loved it more than herself and her kids. Until I was 15, I was scared of booze and I was angry at it for taking time away from my mom when I needed her most.

Thankfully, my mom got sober when I was 13. When I was done worrying about whether or not she would relapse and go back into rehab, I decided to try alcohol for myself. A lot of my friends were starting to party and I was feeling left out. So at 15, I wanted to see what the fuss was about.

And then I never stopped.

I didn’t stop until I was 34.

You can do the math…

I created countless drama for myself by drinking. We’re talking physical altercations, arrests, flat tires, bruises, dangerous situations, and the list goes on.

I saw sober people and often wondered how boring their lives were. I wondered how they celebrated birthdays and weddings. Hell… even brunch was always in question. You brunch without Mimosas? Is that even brunch?

I couldn’t fathom being sober all the time. What would I even do? Who would I hang out with? What would we talk about? What did I even enjoy doing? Could I even laugh without a drink in my hand?

I didn’t know anymore. I spent the better half of almost 2 decades drinking in my spare time. Literally all my hobbies revolved around drinking.

Going to bonfires: bring a case of beer! Painting: wine and canvas nights! Visiting friends: drinks and snacks! Traveling: drinks at the airport in the morning! Brunch: mimosas and bloody Mary's to get my day started!

You get the idea. Insert literally any activity and I had an excuse to have a beverage in my hand.

It seemed so daunting to give up my security blanket. But now I’m 2.5 years sober and I do everything + more without drinking. I’ve found myself running out of time to get everything done.

When I drank, I proclaimed to live a drama-free life. Looking back now through a clear lens, I can see that there was nothing drama-free about living an intoxicated life.

I constantly woke up with anxiety and dread, wondering who (or if) I texted anything stupid last night. Did I post any weird statuses to social media? Did I say something mean-spirited to a close friend? Did I get into another fist fight (apparently drunk Maria had immense rage). Did I drive anywhere? Did I hit anything if I did? How did I get to bed? Who saw me out like that?

The list is 17 miles long of my morning mental checklist.

Sobriety has taught me all sorts of lessons, but the one that took me the longest to get used to was the peace — the quiet in my mind that was left when I wasn’t constantly questioning my actions from the previous night.

The peace that left me with new, creative, and inspiring thoughts about my present moment and my future.

The peace that left me with no thoughts at all sometimes. Just a vivid awareness of the wind that was blowing, or the birds chirping in my neighbor’s tree, or the simple pleasure of the sun on my skin.

You could certainly look at quiet solitude as boringness, but you could also look at it as relief.

Relief from the mental gymnastics that was telling me constantly that I was never going to amount to anything and that I was meant to be unloved.

Relief from physical pain of not getting enough sleep, eating food that didn’t nourish me, and bumps and bruises from stumbling around drunk.

Relief from over-planning every single event because I had to figure out how to get there, how to get home, and how many drinks to ‘allow’ myself to have.

The peace and quiet that I have now would have driven me to drink just a few years ago. It can be a scary place to have to sit with yourself sober. Feelings come up that you didn’t know you had.

Sometimes I cried for no reason. It just poured out of me.

If you can get over that hill of facing yourself and your flaws, the peace on the other side is a big comforting blanket.

I promise, it’s worth it.