Reconciling My Sobriety With the FUN of My Drinking Days

I’ve worked long and hard to find alignment in my sobriety—in mind, body, and soul. I’ve made peace with myself, I’ve let go of the shame, and I’ve embraced this new life with open arms. 3 ½ years into this journey, and drinking isn’t something I have to think about anymore. It’s no longer a factor in my life or something I need to spend mental energy on. It was absolutely the right choice for me, and I wouldn’t trade my current reality for the old one if you offered me a million dollars. I will (and do) tout the benefits of eliminating alcohol all day long because the impact that doing so had on my life was tremendous. It was one of the best decisions I ever made for myself.

Yet, I’ve been struggling lately to reconcile the fun times I had during my drinking days with the darkness that often accompanied them. When I look back on my career as a drinker, starting at age 14 and ending at 41 (wow, I’ve never noticed the symmetry of those numbers), there are lots of great memories.

It wasn’t all darkness and misery.

There were some really good, and frankly, hilarious, times mixed in with the messy. There are stories that still make me belly laugh, and there are stories that make me cringe violently. There are times I love to reminisce over with friends, and there are times I avoid revisiting because just thinking of them brings the shame to the surface.  There are nights I can’t remember because of blackouts, there are nights I’m lucky to have survived, and there are nights that were ridiculously fun and full of laughter. Sometimes, all of those blended together in a drunken shit-storm that I have no idea how to untangle mentally.

Honestly, I don’t know how to get it all straight in my head, but maybe I don’t need to.

Here’s what I’ve decided…

My life before embracing sobriety wasn’t “bad.” There was nothing wrong with me—I wasn’t unworthy or less than. I was just someone who drank, and it was still only a very small part of who I was. I don’t need to feel guilty for looking back fondly on memories from my drinking days, even if they were booze-drenched and ridiculous. It’s okay to laugh at them, to feel nostalgic, and to reminisce. I had a lot of fun, and that doesn’t have to be discounted just because alcohol was involved in lots of those memories. The good times aren’t negated just because I was drinking. It’s okay for me to think they were fun and treasure that time spent with friends.

Just like I don’t judge others for drinking, and I certainly don’t judge the friends I was drinking with, I shouldn’t judge my past self for drinking. That’s just who I was at the time, and I’m learning to love, value, and appreciate the past version of myself. She was a good person, and she got me to where I am right now. I’m so very grateful for that.

Still, do I wish I had quit drinking sooner? Do I wish I hadn’t started drinking at 14? Do I wish that so many of my funny memories weren’t fueled by liquor and stupidity? Abso-fucking-lutely. What gets to me is knowing that I could have been having just as much fun and making just as many great memories without alcohol. I know that because I’m doing it now, and I did it before I started drinking. Alcohol was an unnecessary accessory all along. Would 18, 25, or even 40-year-old me have believed that if I had told her? Probably not.

The fun might have looked different—less obnoxious, safer, more wholesome, perhaps. I also would have remembered more of it, and it wouldn’t have so often been accompanied by shame, regret, self-loathing, and painful hangovers. Sounds pretty good, right?

Looking back, were the good times worth it when I factor in the pain and darkness that went along with drinking for me? I don’t know— If I had a magic wand, I would love to erase the heartache and trauma that drinking caused in my life, but at the cost of all the good memories and the life experiences that led me to this moment in time? It’s so tricky.

I’m not sure I have any brilliant answers here except to reassure you that if you’ve ever had these thoughts, you’re not alone. My conclusion here is that it’s okay for all of these things to be true at the same time, and it’s okay for that to feel messy and chaotic.

• It’s okay to appreciate the good times, the laughs, and the alcohol-fueled adventures.

• It’s okay to look back and laugh, but it’s also okay to look back and cringe.

• It’s okay to feel icky about the darker side of your drinking – the pain that it caused.

• It’s okay to feel really grateful that you’re sober.

• It’s okay to wish you had stopped drinking sooner.

• It’s okay to value and treasure all of the friendships you had along the way, even if they shifted over time.

• It’s okay to love and honor the old version of yourself and the new.

• It’s okay to have some good drinking memories AND some bad drinking memories.

• It’s okay to be glad that you have evolved and grown into a different version of yourself.

• It’s okay to sometimes miss and grieve the old version of yourself.

It’s okay, all of it…as long as we don’t dwell on the past or beat ourselves up unnecessarily. We deserve grace, compassion, and love for making it through life and doing the best we can with the tools we have. We can’t change our pasts. We can only learn from them.

I’ve lived a beautiful life— all 44 years of it. Just because I was an enthusiastic drinker for a big portion of it doesn’t mean those years don’t count. They were still some damn good years! That was just one chapter, and now I’m in another.

When I get to the next, I hope I’ll look back on this one fondly, too.