I'm going to try and keep this post as brief as possible as I know it could turn into horrifically long waffle. But the more thought I give toward the events that unfolded this weekend the more accomplished I feel sharing my first sober wedding with you. I DID IT. I've essentially survived one of the most likely weekends to derail my efforts and I'm unbelievably chuffed that I've made it to day 35.
My husband (Rob) and I have just spent the weekend in the New Forest for a beautiful wedding with a handful of some of my best and most brilliant friends. The last time I saw these girls was at the Brighton Hen Do (aka coffin/nail moment)...so I'm actually quite apprehensive about making it through the weekend alive.
We arrive on the Friday as I need to be on site early Saturday morning to help decorate the venue. I'm an event planner by trade so I lend my organisational skills to friends and family in times of celebratory need. I thought it would be easy dodging the booze on Friday eve but as soon as Rob and I arrived at the bar my friend encourages us to tack on to his order. Rob asks for a pint and I scrunch my face up and pretend to be 'gasping for something soft'. I actually couldn't be further away from being thirsty. So I order a sparkling water much to my friends disdain. 'If you're thirsty order a proper drink Ems, what's up with you?'.
And so it begins....
As I flit between water, coffee and some fancy Fever Tree tonic the comments on my sobriety begin to slow down, yet my Brighton hen do army seem entirely perplexed by my decision to not drink - and as a result I do feel somewhat 'outa the gang'.
Half my pals are convinced I'm pregnant, obviously, while the other half are pretending to be intrigued by my motives but are also thinking she's blates pregs. They all, however, enjoy me recapping on the events that led to me being off the grog (as if I'm trying to remind them that I'm still drunk fun Em...). There are big lols at the embarrassing memories and my friend bellows, 'Well at least we'll have Em back to normal tomorrow'... Eeep.
As I blame my sobriety (yes, as if it's a terrible thing) on wanting to stay sharp for wedding day prep I quickly realise everyone is counting on me to get drunk (and embarrassing) tomorrow....
The wedding speeches came to a close and Rob started to realise that I was tackling the wedding sober (even he thought I'd be back on it by now). And in his defence I haven't exactly shared my sober intentions with him as I'm even not sure myself that my sobriety is going to last. I don't want to be that person who announces their sobriety then three days later bam I'm drunk again. For me this is personal and I'm taking each day as it comes.
I lost count of the times my non-drinking was queried, to which I politely replied 'I'm not drinking yet, don't really fancy it' and quickly began to chat about something else.
The wedding made me realise that it is completely 'the norm' to drink - which is something I already knew - but I didn't understand just how much people calculate your worth on how many drinks into the day you are. As I watched with sober eyes the crowd began to change. I have always told myself I am never going to be a judgemental sober person but wow...alcohol really does turn people stupid.
At 11.00 p.m. I feel like I've completed almost every level of this new and exciting sober wedding game. I tried every canape and went back for the best ones (tempura prawn), finished all my wedding breakfast and savoured every delicious course, listened intently to the speeches and learnt amazing things about the happy couple's past, danced respectfully without falling over (and out of my dress), discovered a beautiful new first dance song and made a note of the artist, signed the guest book, sampled the incredible evening food and put away two slices of the most delicious Victoria Sponge cake I have ever tried.
In a parallel drunk universe this was me on the same day: Missed all the canapes because: prosecco, picked around my lunch as food cals came second to wine cals, pretended to absorb the speeches but was too pissed to be genuinely interested (grabbing extra wine at this stage over and above our table allocation), danced and fell over, spilt my drink(s) on someone important, skipped all evening food and cake, snuck away from my husband countless times to play the secret smoking game (which was fucking tiring - and I'd be that scrounger who would bum all my friends cigarettes) and then continue to navigate the rest of the night through black, blur and slur until my husband carried me to bed. Oh and not to mention spending horrendous amounts of money on buying drinks for myself and every other person (to try and make them as drunk as me). And 'Oh' again, Rob and I would then typically end the night on a blazing row which would be all my fault as I'm an irrational drunk and I'd wake up with zero recollection and want to die.
About two years ago I was at a wedding with a free bar. I drank so much I fell over one of the low walls sectioning off the dance floor and crashed into a table knocking smashed glass and alcohol into the laps of OAP family members. That's the last thing I remember. Good.
This time around, my sober self spent the day and night completely immersed in all that was important and it was frigging amazing.
One of the most significant parts of the evening for me was going to the bar at midnight after the band had played their last (bloody brilliant) song, and ordering some drinks with Rob (who is always a great composed drunk person). The bar lady let us know that drinks were only being provided to people with room tabs, which we had, but at this point in time the night genuinely stood still for me. Drunk Em would have kicked up a fuss for no reason, ordered another bottle of £40 fizz and charged it to the Monopoly money room bill. Sober Em looked at her husband, said one softy for the road then sensibly called it a night. What a win!
It was a strange feeling waking up on Sunday as in truth I didn't feel fresh. I was half expecting to spring out of bed, cleanse my glowing un-tired skin and skip down to brekkie feeling half a stone lighter. However I felt exhausted, headachey and actually quite slow moving. Maybe my body was programmed to expect a hangover and malfunctioned as a result.
It had been a hugely important day for me for many reasons. Wedding prep aside (which went superbly well) I was really feeling the pressure from booze. I thought I'd be strong heading into the weekend - which I absolutely was - yet I think my sobriety meant more to me than I ever thought it could/would. So much so that on Friday night I actually dreamt that I threw in the towel and cracked on with the Champagne - I could actually taste the bubbles. I woke up in a wild panic on Saturday morning and soon realised it was all a horrible dream, legit like in the movies. The nightmare was so damn vivid I could still taste the bloody booze the next morning, and it terrified me.
Failure anxiety aside, here are some of my learnings:
1) Answering honestly (or not honestly) about why you're not drinking is absolutely OK. People are either accepting (and if they're not, you don't have to talk to them about it again ever), not bothered enough to ask or too drunk to care - which is a win win win really.
2) Eliminating booze makes you appreciate so many amazing aspects of the day. I held intelligent conversations with new people and remembered every single best bit. I also dodged situations which were turning hairy. There was a very drunk woman who smashed a glass by my friend's kid's foot, didn't make an effort to clear away the glass and proceeded to light a cigarette by the buggy and blow smoke all over said child. Not a good look and she was loud and shouty. Triple annoyer (and could have easily been me if I was drinking).
3) It's not easy, I can't sugar coat that, but it does get easier. I feel like my sobriety is perhaps too much in it's infancy for me to say to people 'I don't drink' or 'I'm tee total' (as if I haven't earned my stripes yet - which I'm cool with) but letting people know I wasn't drinking did get easier as the day went on. My answers stopped becoming so long and waffly and I started to realise that my responses were completely acceptable. Although everyone still thinks I'm pregnant.
4) Some people will think you're judging them and make a huge deal out of your sobriety. Perhaps because your not drinking acts as a magnifying glass for their own issues (I'm not saying this is the same for everyone but I really felt this was the case for some people at this wedding). If you're anything like me you'll just want to carry on with the night and not be the talking point - but unfortunately you will get the odd individual that makes it their night's mission to out you as a sober person and think it's a worthwhile discussion point (to your face and behind it). But who gives a shit.
5) You may struggle to find a drink you actually like. This sounds like an odd thing to say but I've come to realise that drinking for me is a 'doing' thing. I like to have something in my hand that I can sip to make me look busy and give me something to do. However on Saturday I did struggle to find a happy balance. I imagine this will become easier over time, but the tonic waters and fizzy softies did become unbelievably boring after a while. I was hoping one of the bar staff may make an effort to snazz up my sparkling water with some freshly squeezed lime but in truth I ended up desperately missing alcohol post 8.00 p.m.
Roll on the next wedding which hits me in approximately six days time. Wedding season is completely bloody exhausting...
And so it begins....
As I flit between water, coffee and some fancy Fever Tree tonic the comments on my sobriety begin to slow down, yet my Brighton hen do army seem entirely perplexed by my decision to not drink - and as a result I do feel somewhat 'outa the gang'.
Half my pals are convinced I'm pregnant, obviously, while the other half are pretending to be intrigued by my motives but are also thinking she's blates pregs. They all, however, enjoy me recapping on the events that led to me being off the grog (as if I'm trying to remind them that I'm still drunk fun Em...). There are big lols at the embarrassing memories and my friend bellows, 'Well at least we'll have Em back to normal tomorrow'... Eeep.
As I blame my sobriety (yes, as if it's a terrible thing) on wanting to stay sharp for wedding day prep I quickly realise everyone is counting on me to get drunk (and embarrassing) tomorrow....
The wedding speeches came to a close and Rob started to realise that I was tackling the wedding sober (even he thought I'd be back on it by now). And in his defence I haven't exactly shared my sober intentions with him as I'm even not sure myself that my sobriety is going to last. I don't want to be that person who announces their sobriety then three days later bam I'm drunk again. For me this is personal and I'm taking each day as it comes.
I lost count of the times my non-drinking was queried, to which I politely replied 'I'm not drinking yet, don't really fancy it' and quickly began to chat about something else.
The wedding made me realise that it is completely 'the norm' to drink - which is something I already knew - but I didn't understand just how much people calculate your worth on how many drinks into the day you are. As I watched with sober eyes the crowd began to change. I have always told myself I am never going to be a judgemental sober person but wow...alcohol really does turn people stupid.
At 11.00 p.m. I feel like I've completed almost every level of this new and exciting sober wedding game. I tried every canape and went back for the best ones (tempura prawn), finished all my wedding breakfast and savoured every delicious course, listened intently to the speeches and learnt amazing things about the happy couple's past, danced respectfully without falling over (and out of my dress), discovered a beautiful new first dance song and made a note of the artist, signed the guest book, sampled the incredible evening food and put away two slices of the most delicious Victoria Sponge cake I have ever tried.
In a parallel drunk universe this was me on the same day: Missed all the canapes because: prosecco, picked around my lunch as food cals came second to wine cals, pretended to absorb the speeches but was too pissed to be genuinely interested (grabbing extra wine at this stage over and above our table allocation), danced and fell over, spilt my drink(s) on someone important, skipped all evening food and cake, snuck away from my husband countless times to play the secret smoking game (which was fucking tiring - and I'd be that scrounger who would bum all my friends cigarettes) and then continue to navigate the rest of the night through black, blur and slur until my husband carried me to bed. Oh and not to mention spending horrendous amounts of money on buying drinks for myself and every other person (to try and make them as drunk as me). And 'Oh' again, Rob and I would then typically end the night on a blazing row which would be all my fault as I'm an irrational drunk and I'd wake up with zero recollection and want to die.
About two years ago I was at a wedding with a free bar. I drank so much I fell over one of the low walls sectioning off the dance floor and crashed into a table knocking smashed glass and alcohol into the laps of OAP family members. That's the last thing I remember. Good.
This time around, my sober self spent the day and night completely immersed in all that was important and it was frigging amazing.
One of the most significant parts of the evening for me was going to the bar at midnight after the band had played their last (bloody brilliant) song, and ordering some drinks with Rob (who is always a great composed drunk person). The bar lady let us know that drinks were only being provided to people with room tabs, which we had, but at this point in time the night genuinely stood still for me. Drunk Em would have kicked up a fuss for no reason, ordered another bottle of £40 fizz and charged it to the Monopoly money room bill. Sober Em looked at her husband, said one softy for the road then sensibly called it a night. What a win!
It was a strange feeling waking up on Sunday as in truth I didn't feel fresh. I was half expecting to spring out of bed, cleanse my glowing un-tired skin and skip down to brekkie feeling half a stone lighter. However I felt exhausted, headachey and actually quite slow moving. Maybe my body was programmed to expect a hangover and malfunctioned as a result.
It had been a hugely important day for me for many reasons. Wedding prep aside (which went superbly well) I was really feeling the pressure from booze. I thought I'd be strong heading into the weekend - which I absolutely was - yet I think my sobriety meant more to me than I ever thought it could/would. So much so that on Friday night I actually dreamt that I threw in the towel and cracked on with the Champagne - I could actually taste the bubbles. I woke up in a wild panic on Saturday morning and soon realised it was all a horrible dream, legit like in the movies. The nightmare was so damn vivid I could still taste the bloody booze the next morning, and it terrified me.
Failure anxiety aside, here are some of my learnings:
1) Answering honestly (or not honestly) about why you're not drinking is absolutely OK. People are either accepting (and if they're not, you don't have to talk to them about it again ever), not bothered enough to ask or too drunk to care - which is a win win win really.
2) Eliminating booze makes you appreciate so many amazing aspects of the day. I held intelligent conversations with new people and remembered every single best bit. I also dodged situations which were turning hairy. There was a very drunk woman who smashed a glass by my friend's kid's foot, didn't make an effort to clear away the glass and proceeded to light a cigarette by the buggy and blow smoke all over said child. Not a good look and she was loud and shouty. Triple annoyer (and could have easily been me if I was drinking).
3) It's not easy, I can't sugar coat that, but it does get easier. I feel like my sobriety is perhaps too much in it's infancy for me to say to people 'I don't drink' or 'I'm tee total' (as if I haven't earned my stripes yet - which I'm cool with) but letting people know I wasn't drinking did get easier as the day went on. My answers stopped becoming so long and waffly and I started to realise that my responses were completely acceptable. Although everyone still thinks I'm pregnant.
4) Some people will think you're judging them and make a huge deal out of your sobriety. Perhaps because your not drinking acts as a magnifying glass for their own issues (I'm not saying this is the same for everyone but I really felt this was the case for some people at this wedding). If you're anything like me you'll just want to carry on with the night and not be the talking point - but unfortunately you will get the odd individual that makes it their night's mission to out you as a sober person and think it's a worthwhile discussion point (to your face and behind it). But who gives a shit.
5) You may struggle to find a drink you actually like. This sounds like an odd thing to say but I've come to realise that drinking for me is a 'doing' thing. I like to have something in my hand that I can sip to make me look busy and give me something to do. However on Saturday I did struggle to find a happy balance. I imagine this will become easier over time, but the tonic waters and fizzy softies did become unbelievably boring after a while. I was hoping one of the bar staff may make an effort to snazz up my sparkling water with some freshly squeezed lime but in truth I ended up desperately missing alcohol post 8.00 p.m.
Roll on the next wedding which hits me in approximately six days time. Wedding season is completely bloody exhausting...
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