The right moment to tell a date that you don’t drink is tough to pinpoint, I’ve discovered.
I figured that my seven-month stint as a nun had expired. It’s the right thing to do.” I objected because I perceived this as a judgment. I’ve learned that I cannot work my recovery out on someone I’m dating.
I had paid my dues and it was time to take the plunge into a relationship. I had been too quick to dump guys in the past to avoid intimacy. I don’t need to stay with a guy to punish myself for past indiscretions—it isn’t fair to either person. A boyfriend can’t help me to unfuck all of the men from my past, just like I can’t help him stay out of jail.
Back when I had no defense against the first drink, I didn’t even need to black out before I selected my prey for the night.
I revved my engine by “pre-gaming:” four or five glasses of whiskey to start, two or three lines of cocaine and my choice of attention-grabbing, eccentric jewelry—the kind that requires negative sixteen fucks to be given in order to wear it. I assumed every guy at the bar was there for my entertainment.
I didn’t lose my virginity until I was 19, and only then because I was three sheets to the wind.
I consider alcohol to be the most effective panty-dropper of all time—at least, it was for me.
By the time 9 pm rolled around, I was the Queen of Sheba. On one of my rare hook-up free nights, in arguably one of the worst years of my drinking, I joined friends for karaoke.
I purposely chose to sing “5o Ways to Leave Your Lover” by Paul Simon. I ended up cheating on him because I didn’t know a better way out.
” I shot back, “Sir, you down on my sexual consumption. None of the things I used to cling to for support were there to terrify/console me. I jump into things too quickly for fear of missing out on the potential for true love.
But I still haven’t made the best choices as a retired sexpot/party girl. I threw myself at AA with the desperation of a dying woman—and it worked. However, I took it as a sign from my Higher Power when I met someone a couple of days after I finished my 12 steps. These are things I know about myself now, only after almost 18 months of sobriety.
I’m pretty sure now I just really wanted to have sex. My first sober AA boyfriend had great taste in music. Two months into our relationship, he took me on a special date to tell me he was going to be under house arrest for six months. I searched far and wide to find a way to make things work. I tended to qualify, categorize, analyze and judge all of the ways a man was just no good for me. I work on self-forgiveness with my sponsor and David Bowie as my Higher Power. I can see these things because I don’t drink my feelings.