Your article on proselytizing was the first thing I read this morning. Frankly Go You. An éloquent and rational response to a subject that is no small matter. For my part admitting I’m sober is akin to coming out which I’m also terrified about because I’m in my 60s and have 3 kids.
Alcohol was the elixir (sic) that I had to drown myself in to have even a conversation with anyone let alone men. I had to be drunk for sex with men or else I panicked. Subconscious knew I was queer but strict upbringing made it impossible. Alcohol is a kind of invisibility cloak.
So yes, after 40 years of slowly killing myself, my potential self, and ruining my kids’ lives (that might be the shame talking-they are very well happy adjusted adults with whom, now I’m sober, I have a good relationship with. I’m very lucky), it is very difficult for me to say I don’t drink. I certainly don’t say I’m sober. My kids are extremely proud of me because they know how hard I’ve struggled to get this monkey off my back. My mum is still holding her breath as to whether I’ll start again. She has had to take the brunt of most of it, especially when I was in rehab twice.
I’m stunned that an intelligent woman would even bother to make such a comment. As you say there’s plenty of other guff on the internet to click onto.
People getting sober usually have suffered and many are full of shame. That is my current nemesis. It’s bad enough to have to defend my sober choices when on the rare occasion I venture out to socialize with friends. They obviously knew me as a boozer. I’m English so you’ll have to forgive the slang.
I’ve struggled all my adult life with alcohol. When younger I found myself in some very dangerous dark places. I’m surprised I’m still here. My latter years were confined to drinking at home so no one really knew the extent of my problems.
I got increasingly depressed and anxious and physically sick. Covid tipped it all over into a no boundaries all in disaster. Bereavement, my own Covid experiences, loneliness etc were fuel to the out of control forest fires raging in me which alcohol or wine kept alive while I slowly killed myself.
Writing about my experiences and especially in the light of sobriety has been of enormous help. Quit lit brave no holds barred writers, especially women, have paved the way for me to start living my life again, yes even in my 60s.
I’m sad I didn’t stop with the first 5 months rehab in my 30s. What I could have achieved!!! 😞.
I’m excited for this younger generation of people who are making the healthy choice to not drink, to eat well and to use their bodies in the way nature intended. The older writers of quit lit have bravely shone their light on their shame, aired their dirty washing to show alcohol for the sham it is.
I fell into the con of thinking of alcohol as this amazing magical transformative experience in the 1970s. It was all around me, normal, a rite of passage. I hated it at first but I made myself get used to it disguising it with sweet juice in order to “pass”. I was an anxious shy invisible creature (so I thought) without getting mashed in social interactions. Then I transformed into a sexy attractive woman chased by men. 🤢
I got into my stride in my 30s with high powered jobs and travel. Airports are still a massive trigger for me. No one knew my pain. I worked, had three kids, passed 5 degrees, taught, had terrible relationships with men, hence being a single mother for most of that time.
On reflection does that make me weak? I achieved huge success despite my addiction. I’d suggest that I’m actually fucking strong.
Being an intelligent person it is difficult to square the harm I knew I was doing to myself and my family and doing it anyway. So I lived in a deadly cycle of giving in to my addiction while hating myself for it, feeling shame especially when I ended up down some very dark deep holes for which there were dire consequences, while keeping up the appearance of being a strong successful working single mum, with disastrous relationships in between.
So if anyone told me I was proselytizing when I finally gather the courage to say No I don’t drink thanks, I think at this point I would hit the roof. In an icy cold logically withering way of course. I am quite eloquent and mindful in what I do and say these days. But of course if the person questioning my alcohol free choices is already drunk or drinking I’m going to give them both barrels aren’t I? Despite my introverted nature.
Thanks for your eloquence and exploration of this matter. It had never occurred to me that intelligent people would diss others who are trying to better themselves and by doing impacting positively everyone around them.
My alcohol/sober journey has been hell. I’m writing my own memoir. It’s cathartic but bloody painful. I’ll put it out there for no other reason than wanting to help others who think sobriety is impossible. I’m living- just - proof that it isn’t and sobriety it’s the best thing you can do for yourself and your family and self esteem.
I rarely talk about my journey or admit to friends that I’m sober. I’m still somewhat of a hermit. But you’ve inspired me to get my own quit lit out there. For some reason I’m angry as I write this mainly I think because my sobriety was hard fought and still fragile. But anger can galvanize to action. So. Watch me now!!!
You sound really fucking strong, Karen. Also, really courageous. I have no doubt your journey will inspire others and expand their perception of what’s possible. Thank you from my heart for sharing and for your generous words. Cheering you on with love.
Karen - what a beautiful share. I can’t wait to read your memoir. It will help others, no doubt. My experience has been that sobriety is the gift that keeps on giving. So why wouldn’t we write about it?
I’m an occasional drinker—1-2 drinks/month. During the pandemic, I was up to 5-7 drinks/week. While I don’t expect to give up all alcohol, the content you post has made me become more thoughtful around the choices I make. I haven’t found sharing sobriety “preachy” or “proselytizing” — not that proselytizing for something that has helped someone is necessarily a bad thing—I’ve found it helpful to hear about other people’s choices and experiences around the prevalence of a powerful mind altering and body altering drug.
I am so glad you wrote this essay, Dana. I saw that Note you posted in response to Anne’s essay and all my insides got stirred. Thank you for this kind and thoughtful response.
It has taken me a long time to come to terms with (and I’m not entirely sure I’m all the way there) the fact that this alcohol free journey I’m on is MINE. It is my responsibility. It is about my drinking, not anyone else’s. I have to keep my eyes on my own paper because for years I was so focused on others’. In so doing, I was only cheating myself.
AND when I hear pieces of my story, my painful experiences expressed in someone else’s words, I feel understood. I think that’s what all humans want - a sense of belonging. It’s belonging - not proselytizing. That’s what I’m after. That’s why I write about my experience with alcohol and my life as a strong sober women. If that doesn’t resonate, cool. Carry on.
And for those who might hear themselves in my words, I see you. You belong.
So, so good Dana. Thank you for your wise words, once again. I began writing almost on day 1 of sobriety back in 2020. It was a way of processing what was happening inside my head - all those suppressed emotions that I’d been stuffing down inside for years and years. And the floodgates opened obviously. At the same time, I had all of this creative energy and need to express what I was feeling. I had to process it somehow as I’d been numb for so long. Writing was so incredibly helpful and at the same time it was an accountability tool. I started blogging that first week and eventually people began reading what I was writing. And then came the connection which is another crucial cornerstone for the foundation of sobriety. None of this was proselytizing. I published my memoir with the main purpose of writing something that made others feel less alone. Because I felt so totally isolated at the end of my drinking days and I wanted women like me to know they weren’t broken and there was a way back into the light. I had read things similarly that gave me hope and I wanted to help others as well. Pass it along. Friends judged me and wondered why I “had to write so publicly.” Their reaction hurt me tremendously. But I’ve come to learn at the end of the day that their reactions are all about how they feel about themselves, just as you stated. It holds a mirror up. I can’t control other people and can only control myself. One thing my therapist told me early on to repeat everyday is this: “I’m not responsible for the response of others.”
I love all that so much, Kimberly (except for how those friends judged you). And I hear you. It’s hard for me to imagine getting sober without writing my way through it.
Alcohol is a killer for me. I could give a shit who knows, who doesn't. If anyone asks why I just look them in the eye and tell them I'm a shit storm if I do. The people who continue to love me are in it for the right reasons. Those that run, again, I could give a shit. Thank you, Dana, for sharing again.
I really enjoyed this article and agree with a lot of it. It reminds me of how people criticize social media figures like Bryan Johnson. While I wouldn’t choose his lifestyle for myself, I don’t see anything wrong with him striving for optimal health—especially considering he comes from an American junk food culture and used to be very unhealthy and depressed. I’m not from the U.S., but to be honest, some of the normalized food choices there seem pretty alarming to me…
As for drinking, I did a 6+ month alcohol-free challenge which taught me so much. And now rarely drink. Making the few drinking moments just more special and celebrated, and only for very special occasions. Some alcohol just don’t make me feel good anymore, after all. Coming from a wine-producing region, drinking has a symbolic and ritualistic aspect for me, so moderation makes sense in my context.
To answer the questions:
I do drink, but I’ve received weird comments that made me feel defensive or like I had to justify myself.
And I avoid fast food as much as possible, which luckily isn’t hard for me.
I don’t share much online, except in Substack comments—where I tend to overshare, haha. But even in real life, I’ve felt a bit frustrated at times. People forget I was sober and serve me drinks, or I get annoyed at how much sugar and industrial snacks some people around me consume—especially knowing what we know now.
Because the difference between 5–10 years ago and now is that we’re more certain than ever that some supermarket products are literally poisonous, cause cancer, and contribute to neurodegenerative diseases. It’s proven! I read books about it, and I share what I learn because I don’t want to see my loved ones get sick, weak, or exhausted. And for me, this isn’t just a health issue—it’s political and feminist. The food and health industries are driven by powerful lobbies that profit off keeping people sick, dependent, and depleted. If people who criticize the way we drive into a wall are said to be proselytizing, then it makes me feel less compassion for people who think this way to be honest.
But at the same time, I feel like the constant overconsumption of ‘mind food’ (all this endless information!! On social media mostly) might actually be worse than junk food and alcohol. It kills reason, drains motivation, and makes it impossible to act on what we know. I’m doing “fasts” of content every-once in a while to stay sane and keep minding my business.
Thank you so much for sharing, Marie. I agree that overconsumption of online content can be harmful, too. Even if it’s wholesome, nourishing content, we can only process so much at once. I love your practice of content fasting. I’ve been cutting back on some types of media and totally eliminated others, but I’m considering taking this further. Not to push more content on you (and zero pressure to read it!), but I wrote an essay on this topic here: https://danaleighlyons.substack.com/p/online-addiction-endless-scroll
I used to get so annoyed and triggered when people would share their soberversaries on social media, and you nailed it. That was never about them. It was about me. I was annoyed with myself, and I’m probably annoying the hell out of a lot of people right now every time I share about how great it is and that I wrote a book about it.
I needed the writers in early sobriety though! Taking the sobriety movement out of dark anonymous spaces is a wonderful thing. Reading thoughtful individualistic approaches and different ideas about what it means to quit alcohol helps people shed their shame. Thanks for writing this and everything you write and for amplifying the voices of others every day. They can’t stuff us back in the cave!!
The recent (recurring) pushback on Dry January and sobriety set off alarm bells for me. Since my sober-journey is about paying attention to that kind of intuition, I’ve really been curious. At first it really hurts. And, as I’m newly sober (93 days!), it has me questioning myself sometimes: is drinking that big of a deal? Am I over-reacting? Am i some kind of pawn for the right-wing purity-agenda pushers? But, I do settle back around to the simple real and hard truth that drinking alcohol is NOT RIGHT FOR ME. And no one else’s ideas or agenda can change that fact. It is so so personal. My senses are always going to prick up if I think someone is trying to sell me something or make money off of my choices. It happens a lot in a capitalist society. And I definitely am trying not to get bought or sold. But I still thinking drinking is bad for me and it doesn’t matter which box other people put me in - I have to honor that truth. Every day I have to be careful to honor that truth for anyone who also finds it to be harmful for them or they have had enough. Thank you for bringing up this topic!
First, a confession: even in my head, "proselytizing" is hard to pronounce. Spelling it just now required extensive finger calisthenics.
Recovery has taught me, as it seems to have taught you, that when I am uncomfortable with someone's narrative it is likely that there is an unsightly truth imbedded there that I'd rather not consider. You showed us in your post how to pull that apart and get at the underlying fear/insecurity. In 12 step language, you practiced step 10. Resentment is the number one offender, and we have to be vigilant about chasing it down before it takes root.
As for Anne's comment, it is a subtle form of gaslighting. I suspect it wasn't intended as such, but it's very common with people made uncomfortable by the self-improvement efforts of others. I practiced the technique for many years and if memory serves, secured a blackbelt.
Your article on proselytizing was the first thing I read this morning. Frankly Go You. An éloquent and rational response to a subject that is no small matter. For my part admitting I’m sober is akin to coming out which I’m also terrified about because I’m in my 60s and have 3 kids.
Alcohol was the elixir (sic) that I had to drown myself in to have even a conversation with anyone let alone men. I had to be drunk for sex with men or else I panicked. Subconscious knew I was queer but strict upbringing made it impossible. Alcohol is a kind of invisibility cloak.
So yes, after 40 years of slowly killing myself, my potential self, and ruining my kids’ lives (that might be the shame talking-they are very well happy adjusted adults with whom, now I’m sober, I have a good relationship with. I’m very lucky), it is very difficult for me to say I don’t drink. I certainly don’t say I’m sober. My kids are extremely proud of me because they know how hard I’ve struggled to get this monkey off my back. My mum is still holding her breath as to whether I’ll start again. She has had to take the brunt of most of it, especially when I was in rehab twice.
I’m stunned that an intelligent woman would even bother to make such a comment. As you say there’s plenty of other guff on the internet to click onto.
People getting sober usually have suffered and many are full of shame. That is my current nemesis. It’s bad enough to have to defend my sober choices when on the rare occasion I venture out to socialize with friends. They obviously knew me as a boozer. I’m English so you’ll have to forgive the slang.
I’ve struggled all my adult life with alcohol. When younger I found myself in some very dangerous dark places. I’m surprised I’m still here. My latter years were confined to drinking at home so no one really knew the extent of my problems.
I got increasingly depressed and anxious and physically sick. Covid tipped it all over into a no boundaries all in disaster. Bereavement, my own Covid experiences, loneliness etc were fuel to the out of control forest fires raging in me which alcohol or wine kept alive while I slowly killed myself.
Writing about my experiences and especially in the light of sobriety has been of enormous help. Quit lit brave no holds barred writers, especially women, have paved the way for me to start living my life again, yes even in my 60s.
I’m sad I didn’t stop with the first 5 months rehab in my 30s. What I could have achieved!!! 😞.
I’m excited for this younger generation of people who are making the healthy choice to not drink, to eat well and to use their bodies in the way nature intended. The older writers of quit lit have bravely shone their light on their shame, aired their dirty washing to show alcohol for the sham it is.
I fell into the con of thinking of alcohol as this amazing magical transformative experience in the 1970s. It was all around me, normal, a rite of passage. I hated it at first but I made myself get used to it disguising it with sweet juice in order to “pass”. I was an anxious shy invisible creature (so I thought) without getting mashed in social interactions. Then I transformed into a sexy attractive woman chased by men. 🤢
I got into my stride in my 30s with high powered jobs and travel. Airports are still a massive trigger for me. No one knew my pain. I worked, had three kids, passed 5 degrees, taught, had terrible relationships with men, hence being a single mother for most of that time.
On reflection does that make me weak? I achieved huge success despite my addiction. I’d suggest that I’m actually fucking strong.
Being an intelligent person it is difficult to square the harm I knew I was doing to myself and my family and doing it anyway. So I lived in a deadly cycle of giving in to my addiction while hating myself for it, feeling shame especially when I ended up down some very dark deep holes for which there were dire consequences, while keeping up the appearance of being a strong successful working single mum, with disastrous relationships in between.
So if anyone told me I was proselytizing when I finally gather the courage to say No I don’t drink thanks, I think at this point I would hit the roof. In an icy cold logically withering way of course. I am quite eloquent and mindful in what I do and say these days. But of course if the person questioning my alcohol free choices is already drunk or drinking I’m going to give them both barrels aren’t I? Despite my introverted nature.
Thanks for your eloquence and exploration of this matter. It had never occurred to me that intelligent people would diss others who are trying to better themselves and by doing impacting positively everyone around them.
My alcohol/sober journey has been hell. I’m writing my own memoir. It’s cathartic but bloody painful. I’ll put it out there for no other reason than wanting to help others who think sobriety is impossible. I’m living- just - proof that it isn’t and sobriety it’s the best thing you can do for yourself and your family and self esteem.
I rarely talk about my journey or admit to friends that I’m sober. I’m still somewhat of a hermit. But you’ve inspired me to get my own quit lit out there. For some reason I’m angry as I write this mainly I think because my sobriety was hard fought and still fragile. But anger can galvanize to action. So. Watch me now!!!
Thank you for your service.
Karen
You sound really fucking strong, Karen. Also, really courageous. I have no doubt your journey will inspire others and expand their perception of what’s possible. Thank you from my heart for sharing and for your generous words. Cheering you on with love.
Karen - what a beautiful share. I can’t wait to read your memoir. It will help others, no doubt. My experience has been that sobriety is the gift that keeps on giving. So why wouldn’t we write about it?
I’m an occasional drinker—1-2 drinks/month. During the pandemic, I was up to 5-7 drinks/week. While I don’t expect to give up all alcohol, the content you post has made me become more thoughtful around the choices I make. I haven’t found sharing sobriety “preachy” or “proselytizing” — not that proselytizing for something that has helped someone is necessarily a bad thing—I’ve found it helpful to hear about other people’s choices and experiences around the prevalence of a powerful mind altering and body altering drug.
Thanks so much for sharing and for being here, Dan.
I am so glad you wrote this essay, Dana. I saw that Note you posted in response to Anne’s essay and all my insides got stirred. Thank you for this kind and thoughtful response.
It has taken me a long time to come to terms with (and I’m not entirely sure I’m all the way there) the fact that this alcohol free journey I’m on is MINE. It is my responsibility. It is about my drinking, not anyone else’s. I have to keep my eyes on my own paper because for years I was so focused on others’. In so doing, I was only cheating myself.
AND when I hear pieces of my story, my painful experiences expressed in someone else’s words, I feel understood. I think that’s what all humans want - a sense of belonging. It’s belonging - not proselytizing. That’s what I’m after. That’s why I write about my experience with alcohol and my life as a strong sober women. If that doesn’t resonate, cool. Carry on.
And for those who might hear themselves in my words, I see you. You belong.
Beautiful, Allison. I love that so much, and I’m truly grateful for your writing and your welcoming presence.
So, so good Dana. Thank you for your wise words, once again. I began writing almost on day 1 of sobriety back in 2020. It was a way of processing what was happening inside my head - all those suppressed emotions that I’d been stuffing down inside for years and years. And the floodgates opened obviously. At the same time, I had all of this creative energy and need to express what I was feeling. I had to process it somehow as I’d been numb for so long. Writing was so incredibly helpful and at the same time it was an accountability tool. I started blogging that first week and eventually people began reading what I was writing. And then came the connection which is another crucial cornerstone for the foundation of sobriety. None of this was proselytizing. I published my memoir with the main purpose of writing something that made others feel less alone. Because I felt so totally isolated at the end of my drinking days and I wanted women like me to know they weren’t broken and there was a way back into the light. I had read things similarly that gave me hope and I wanted to help others as well. Pass it along. Friends judged me and wondered why I “had to write so publicly.” Their reaction hurt me tremendously. But I’ve come to learn at the end of the day that their reactions are all about how they feel about themselves, just as you stated. It holds a mirror up. I can’t control other people and can only control myself. One thing my therapist told me early on to repeat everyday is this: “I’m not responsible for the response of others.”
I love all that so much, Kimberly (except for how those friends judged you). And I hear you. It’s hard for me to imagine getting sober without writing my way through it.
Alcohol is a killer for me. I could give a shit who knows, who doesn't. If anyone asks why I just look them in the eye and tell them I'm a shit storm if I do. The people who continue to love me are in it for the right reasons. Those that run, again, I could give a shit. Thank you, Dana, for sharing again.
Hell yeah. Thank you, Amy!
I really enjoyed this article and agree with a lot of it. It reminds me of how people criticize social media figures like Bryan Johnson. While I wouldn’t choose his lifestyle for myself, I don’t see anything wrong with him striving for optimal health—especially considering he comes from an American junk food culture and used to be very unhealthy and depressed. I’m not from the U.S., but to be honest, some of the normalized food choices there seem pretty alarming to me…
As for drinking, I did a 6+ month alcohol-free challenge which taught me so much. And now rarely drink. Making the few drinking moments just more special and celebrated, and only for very special occasions. Some alcohol just don’t make me feel good anymore, after all. Coming from a wine-producing region, drinking has a symbolic and ritualistic aspect for me, so moderation makes sense in my context.
To answer the questions:
I do drink, but I’ve received weird comments that made me feel defensive or like I had to justify myself.
And I avoid fast food as much as possible, which luckily isn’t hard for me.
I don’t share much online, except in Substack comments—where I tend to overshare, haha. But even in real life, I’ve felt a bit frustrated at times. People forget I was sober and serve me drinks, or I get annoyed at how much sugar and industrial snacks some people around me consume—especially knowing what we know now.
Because the difference between 5–10 years ago and now is that we’re more certain than ever that some supermarket products are literally poisonous, cause cancer, and contribute to neurodegenerative diseases. It’s proven! I read books about it, and I share what I learn because I don’t want to see my loved ones get sick, weak, or exhausted. And for me, this isn’t just a health issue—it’s political and feminist. The food and health industries are driven by powerful lobbies that profit off keeping people sick, dependent, and depleted. If people who criticize the way we drive into a wall are said to be proselytizing, then it makes me feel less compassion for people who think this way to be honest.
But at the same time, I feel like the constant overconsumption of ‘mind food’ (all this endless information!! On social media mostly) might actually be worse than junk food and alcohol. It kills reason, drains motivation, and makes it impossible to act on what we know. I’m doing “fasts” of content every-once in a while to stay sane and keep minding my business.
Thank you so much for sharing, Marie. I agree that overconsumption of online content can be harmful, too. Even if it’s wholesome, nourishing content, we can only process so much at once. I love your practice of content fasting. I’ve been cutting back on some types of media and totally eliminated others, but I’m considering taking this further. Not to push more content on you (and zero pressure to read it!), but I wrote an essay on this topic here: https://danaleighlyons.substack.com/p/online-addiction-endless-scroll
I used to get so annoyed and triggered when people would share their soberversaries on social media, and you nailed it. That was never about them. It was about me. I was annoyed with myself, and I’m probably annoying the hell out of a lot of people right now every time I share about how great it is and that I wrote a book about it.
I needed the writers in early sobriety though! Taking the sobriety movement out of dark anonymous spaces is a wonderful thing. Reading thoughtful individualistic approaches and different ideas about what it means to quit alcohol helps people shed their shame. Thanks for writing this and everything you write and for amplifying the voices of others every day. They can’t stuff us back in the cave!!
The recent (recurring) pushback on Dry January and sobriety set off alarm bells for me. Since my sober-journey is about paying attention to that kind of intuition, I’ve really been curious. At first it really hurts. And, as I’m newly sober (93 days!), it has me questioning myself sometimes: is drinking that big of a deal? Am I over-reacting? Am i some kind of pawn for the right-wing purity-agenda pushers? But, I do settle back around to the simple real and hard truth that drinking alcohol is NOT RIGHT FOR ME. And no one else’s ideas or agenda can change that fact. It is so so personal. My senses are always going to prick up if I think someone is trying to sell me something or make money off of my choices. It happens a lot in a capitalist society. And I definitely am trying not to get bought or sold. But I still thinking drinking is bad for me and it doesn’t matter which box other people put me in - I have to honor that truth. Every day I have to be careful to honor that truth for anyone who also finds it to be harmful for them or they have had enough. Thank you for bringing up this topic!
First, a confession: even in my head, "proselytizing" is hard to pronounce. Spelling it just now required extensive finger calisthenics.
Recovery has taught me, as it seems to have taught you, that when I am uncomfortable with someone's narrative it is likely that there is an unsightly truth imbedded there that I'd rather not consider. You showed us in your post how to pull that apart and get at the underlying fear/insecurity. In 12 step language, you practiced step 10. Resentment is the number one offender, and we have to be vigilant about chasing it down before it takes root.
As for Anne's comment, it is a subtle form of gaslighting. I suspect it wasn't intended as such, but it's very common with people made uncomfortable by the self-improvement efforts of others. I practiced the technique for many years and if memory serves, secured a blackbelt.