When In Doubt, I'll Just Choose The Mocktail.
Because life is to be savored.
It was the flight attendant slowly making her way towards my aisle seat that did it for me.
I’d been focusing hard on the video screen with my hands under my thighs to keep calm. At this point, I was only 14 days sober. Thou shall not drink, I kept repeating to myself. By the time she reached me, the tall red and white wine bottles were already open, and I could hear ice cubes crashing across the aisle as my neighbor poured himself a vodka. Alcohol is everywhere, every day, at all times.
“Can I have a bloody mary mixer and some ginger ale?” I asked.
The flight attendant looked at me in confusion and presented my items accordingly. Watching me mix my concoction and hand her the empty cans, she leaned over and whispered, “Enjoy your mocktail.”
It’s no secret that I’ve wanted a sober life for a very long time.
I’ve tried many times to abscond from drinking and have failed miserably, yet here I am, writing as a sober woman. I have no idea what is ahead, all I know is that I want a life beyond alcohol. I’ve shared my views on why, so I will not waylay you with stories, but I will say this: sometimes you wake up in utter and complete pain and you wonder why you didn’t die. And then you stop.
I woke up, I wondered, and so I stopped.
Inspired by a great gentleman who has been so kind as to hold my hand through these past weeks, I’ve been able to abstain, rest, and renew my commitment to a healthier life.
I can’t tell you that it’s forever, but I can say it’s for the foreseeable future — a woman of complexity, I’ve been told.
I’ve been reading a lot about theology and the remnants of faith that we hold within us. Faith allows us to picture a future beyond our surroundings and instructs our conscious mind to rest — trusting that things will work out.
Hopefully.
One must have faith, right? In something, in others, in themselves. And dare I say I have faith in myself?
I arrived in Itlay for my yearly winter pilgrimage. I was clouded with doubts and fears regarding my ability to “abstain from the bottle” as my father so sweetly encouraged me. It is Italy, of all places; a culture soaked in the love language of wine. But abstain, I did.
From loving and supportive friends who opted for a glass of seltzer water when we were together, to local bars and restaurants who promptly presented me with non-alcoholic options to enjoy, it felt easier than I expected.
“It’s challenging at first because it’s new and new habits take time, but, I promise it gets easier, and finding alternatives you truly enjoy is a big part of it,” wrote Camille Vidal in a message to me. A former rep for St. Germain and a respected voice within the beverage industry, Camille pivoted her career and started a wellness brand promoting mindful drinking. She’s offered her support as I take on this journey, and for that, I am grateful.
Sobriety is a word that still stings me when I say it.
I’m deeply embarrassed to admit my fears around the subject, and I still douse myself with shame for boiling in anxiety while sitting with friends as they sip, swirl, and giggle about the wine. But, here we are — doing the hard thing.
I spent a lovely afternoon walking through the center of Turin, listening to Leonard Cohen, and seeing things I’d never seen before. Having lived in the city for over 6 years, I hadn’t experienced it. The murals that dressed the walls in Quadrilatero; how slow and peaceful via Garibaldi is before lunch; the effectiveness of every tabaccheria when you need to pay a bill, and the charming way taxi drivers try to make conversation during your ride. It was a true gift to witness.
My father has encouraged me to take this opportunity to focus on dreams and goals. He has always believed that alcohol is the barrier between what we think, and what we do. In his eyes, it makes us feel a temporary comfort, which leads to complacency, and finally submission to what everyone else is doing. I never want to be the person who judges others for the choices they make — only you know the corners of your mind at 2 am. For me, my father’s statement rings true, and it is my sincere hope that my life can change in a way that lets me sleep through the night.
For this reason, I look forward to spending a summer in Italy cooking in an open kitchen, with large double doors that lead to a terrace where my friends can be seen splashing in the pool or reading at the patio table. I want to spend my evenings after dinner, taking long walks through the nearby village, listening to old nonnos debate the results of football matches that afternoon.
I want to write. I want to work hard in my ballet class so that I can perform at the end of the year. I want to treat others with kindness even when everything in my body wants to knock them dead and dump their bodies in the river. Especially that.
I want to spend more time with my sweet mama — to ensure her that she has raised good humans who will be good to others. I want to have patience and grace for myself in such a deep way that I can do so for the man that I have chosen, regardless of how challenging things get. And most of all, I want to savor this life as best as I can, for as long as I get to — if all goes to shit, that is the only thing that matters.
And so from now on, when in doubt, I’ll just choose the mocktail.
For a long weekend in Turin, Italy:
Stay at: NH Collection Hotel (the one in Piazza Carlina is my absolute favorite destination)
Eat your way through the city at: Scatto, Gaudenzio, Muro Osteria, Oyster Torii, Osteria Al Tagliere, Da Michele (My favorite piazza to people watch)
Visit: Museo Fico, GAM, Porta Palazzo, Balon (every Saturday for vintage and antique finds)
Always use: WeTaxi - Italy’s version of Uber.
Get yourself: A few best friends like Michele, Erika, Liam, Andris, Ilaria, and Laura - having people who love you sincerely will get you through just about anything.
