For the past four years, I've been dating again as a divorced mom of two. It's been filled with fun, and more than my fair share of heartbreak. But it's also been filled with more than my fair of something else — alcohol.
It's not uncommon to enjoy alcoholic beverages on dates. Most people find that it makes them more comfortable shaking off their nerves when meeting someone for the first time. It's easier to let your guard down after a couple of wines or cocktails, and honestly, letting your guard down is what makes for the best connections.
Still, if you're someone who enjoys drinking, is looking for connection, but also has gotten used to relying on booze to make things fun, interesting, or relaxed, well, then frequent dating is kind of a recipe for frequent drinking.
I can't say that I'm just realizing this now. The truth is, my reckoning with how much alcohol I've been consuming while attempting to meet and foster solid connections with men has been a long time coming. But it's not just because I tend to lean on alcohol when meeting people. The bigger issue is that the relationships I have formed end up being heavily influenced by alcohol, too.
Frequent alcohol consumption while dating is normalized, at best. So it's not hard to find partners who want to drink with you and drink often. Of course, there are issues with regularly consuming alcohol, no matter what. But when you're forming a relationship that heavily revolves around drinking as both a hobby and a way to connect, you're bound to run into trouble. For me personally, my own drinking tends to escalate when I have a partner who is a heavy drinker. However, it's highly possible that I have sought out partners who have a reasonably defined habit of drinking. It makes my own drinking feel less problematic. It enables me to keep pouring my wine without question. My hobby becomes my crutch and my medicine. And then they all become nonnegotiable.
After a half dozen failed relationships where alcohol was central, I really knew this was an issue. But I wasn't totally ready to give up drinking or, at least, drinking as a way of meeting people. I continued going on dates and drinking whether I was having fun or not. I got used to mild hangovers being part of my normal routine. I got used to feeling pangs of regret at staying too long, or letting things go too far, even if I wasn't quite feeling it (at least before the wine kicked in). Then recently I had a regrettable night that felt like an ice bucket to my face.
Essentially, I connected with a guy on a dating app, and we decided to meet for drinks. Unfortunately, I wasn't feeling it, but instead of just heading home after a beer or two, I had three, then decided to just see where the night took me. I ended up drunkenly ditching him in a really rude and less-than-classy way. In my defense, I was trying to communicate that I wasn't exactly feeling it, and that was essentially being ignored. Still, I know that if I'd been sober, my judgment would've led me straight out the door and home to my couch, which is, of course, where I spent the entire next day saying to myself, "Yeah. I think I'm done."
You can call it alcoholism, sure. But I tend to think that people's habits or addictions all look different and require different courses of action. I'm not vowing to never drink again. I can stay at home for a month and not worry about having a drink. The issue with alcohol for me is more of a social one. And I know for sure that when it comes to relationships, I rely far too much on booze for comfort and connection.
Those are two things that the relationship should provide on its own, right? So if you're relying on alcohol for them, then how do you know whether the relationship is worth your time and energy … or not?
When I got back on my dating apps after my brutal realization, I was looking with a different intent. And soon I connected with someone and started chatting. "What to grab a drink soon?" he asked. I sighed, thinking about how hard it would be to navigate dating without drinking. I needed time to think about how I would respond. Would I say "sure," and toss out my newfound hopes about booze-free dating? Or would I stand by ground and ask him if he wanted to go for coffee or a hike instead? I could also just unmatch him, which crossed my mind.
A couple minutes later, he sent a follow-up message. "I'm actually not a big drinker," he shared, offering another date suggestion instead. I breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, I was totally nervous at the thought of a sober date. But I knew it was time. I took his follow-up message as a sign that I was heading in the right direction.
Was I as laid back and willingly open about my life as I usually am? Definitely not. The chemistry was there, but so were a few awkward pauses where someone would normally say, "Another round?" Still, it was worth it knowing that our connection wasn't influenced by booze. Neither was the great kiss that took the place of a raunchy wine-induced make-out session. Both the date and the kiss felt 10 times more intimate than any dates I've had in recent history.
As we plan our second sober date, I know there will be more awkward moments that make me want to reach for a drink. But as far as relationships are concerned, I'm ready to be vulnerable and brave in a new way. I'm ready to be scared and give what I have to give. No more. No less.
Maybe showing up as myself will be enough.
