This is one of the most common questions that I’m asked. Looking back, I’d say that I knew I had a drinking problem when I started questioning my relationship with alcohol. The years leading up to the day when I quit drinking were filled with sporadic breaks from booze…just to prove to myself that “I didn’t have a problem”. Those years were also filled with Googling questions like, “Am I an alcoholic? Do I have a drinking problem? Should I quit drinking?”. I did a series of mental gymnastics in an attempt to convince myself that since I didn’t NEED alcohol every day, I was fine. I looked at how the media and Hollywood discuss addiction. I didn’t relate to any of those stories, so again, I was fine.

My final moment of clarity came when I stopped comparing my relationship with alcohol to other peoples’ relationships to alcohol. I knew that I was spending countless hours Googling and reading article after article for a reason. One day I finally began to care about the damage I was doing to my body, mind, and future by drinking to excess. No quiz could have told me that. I had to get there on my own.

Like I said, I didn’t drink daily. I often went weeks without it. But when I did drink, it. was. on. On November 30th, 2015, I was finally sick of drinking to the point of blacking out and/or feeling hungover. I was finally sick of looking at my bank account and seeing how much money I was wasting on getting wasted. I was finally sick of alcohol being my go-to way to have fun and socialize. I was finally sick of skipping my morning workouts because I subconsciously prioritized temporary numbness the night before. I was destroying my relationship with myself and my future and that was enough of a reason to finally stop drinking. I finally saw alcohol as a pointless, expensive obstacle standing in the way of my potential to THRIVE.

Society portrays an addict as someone who uses every day, only to lose everything and have a coming of age story. Yes, that narrative can absolutely apply to a lot of people but it doesn’t apply to all of us. I never had a “rock bottom”. Alcohol never got in the way of work. I never got close to losing my apartment or becoming homeless. Alcohol did get in the way of me getting to know my true self. Alcohol did prevent me from allowing true intimacy into my romantic relationships. Alcohol did hinder my ability to care about anything that didn’t involve my immediate circle of bartending and bar crawling.

“My final moment of clarity came when I stopped comparing my relationship with alcohol to other peoples’ relationships to alcohol.”

It took me a while to realize I couldn’t do this whole sober thing on my own. Nine months into it, I started seeing a therapist. More than two years into it, I started attending support groups. Sobriety, paired with weekly therapy and a strong support system, has taught me why I chose to drink the way that I did (I wanted to numb my unhappiness). Why I chose to self-medicate (It was easier than feeling my feelings). Why I chose to avoid my feelings (Because putting on a happy face was “easier” than waking up to my reality of depression and anxiety). Why I leaned on alcohol as my main source of entertainment (I didn’t have enough confidence in who I was without liquid courage). Why I allowed alcohol to put me in dangerous situations that I’d never consider if I was sober (I’m attracted to self-destruction).

Now, in sobriety, I learn something new about myself almost daily. That’s the beautiful – and exhausting – thing about recovery. Recovery is a long, arduous journey with no endpoint. And as someone who’s goal oriented, I struggle with that. The fact that I can’t “win” at recovery or check it off of my to do list really bugs me. I sometimes put STAY SOBER on my to-do list. It’s a reminder that sobriety is a gift that I consistently give to myself. Sobriety a lifestyle that I’ve chosen.

The more I learn about recovery and sobriety, the more I learn that everyone’s story is different. While we all share some common threads, the nuances are powerful. Everyone’s relationship to alcohol is different, so everyone’s relationship to recovery will be different. Sobriety isn’t for everyone. While I believe that everyone can benefit from bouts of sobriety here and there, we don’t need a world full of people who don’t drink. That would be boring AF.

What we do need is a world full of empathy and safe spaces and resources so people can feel empowered to question their relationship with alcohol instead of feeling ashamed by it. There’s nothing wrong with admitting we need help. We ALL need help with something. And we are all in this together.