On Quitting Drinking: You’re Not Ready Until You’re Ready
I wrote this piece in March of 2023, right after I celebrated my first year of sobriety. At that point, I thought I had reached a metaphorical mountain top… that the hardest part was over, that because I discovered I could do life without alcohol that it would be easy-breezy-lemon-squeezy from that point moving forward, that I had finally “arrived.” But reading this back now, at over 3.5 years alcohol-free, I realize that version of me was just beginning to understand what sobriety would open up. This is a topic that I will continue to share and explore here at xo, Kat’s Corner.
What’s wild is how vividly I can still feel the energy of this one very specific night in New York City. How raw I was in my healing, how much I still needed to tell the story out loud just to believe it was real. So I’m sharing it again today, exactly as it was written then, as a ode and love letter to that brave version of me who so willingly and vulnerably wanted to share that if she could walk away from a relationship (to alcohol) that felt like it would be impossible to walk away from, then you have the power to walk away from whatever may hold that weight in your life too.
But for now, let’s go back to where this all began… here’s the piece, I hope you enjoy it.
March 30, 2023
I was sitting at a nonalcoholic bar with a friend in the Lower East Side of Manhattan last night (yes, a nonalcoholic bar… how cool is that?) having a conversation about some of the things that we had done when we were both still drinking. This is a topic that I have thought a lot about lately as I crossed my one year sober mark in early March 2023. So many old memories have been bubbling up to the surface, one’s that I had pushed down, forgotten about… or at least tried to forget about. But, over the past few weeks as each memory has been popping up, I have been writing them down in the notes of my phone. Each one reminding me of why I am so happy I decided to walk away from alcohol, and each one a story that I am sure so many others can relate to.
As we sat there, I opened up my notes and started to read out the first one to my friend, “Okay so, one time I literally hired a therapist to try and help me stop drinking and every session I had with her I lied to her about my alcohol intake and after 8 weeks told her I was cured, she had done her job well and I didn’t need to continue seeing her”.
I heard a voice reply back, but it wasn’t my friend, “you’re not ready until you’re ready”.
I looked up from my phone. It was the bartender who had just spoken up about my story.
You’re not ready until you’re ready.
She was so right, and at that time I was so not ready.
As we left the bar, I continued to think about the bartender’s comment for the rest of the night… Why wasn’t I ready when I had hired that therapist? Why at that point after all of the fucked up shit and scary moments that I had due to alcohol, was I STILL not ready?
Why after being sexually assaulted by an Uber driver that I trusted to get me home from a party did I still want to continue to drink? Why after drunkenly crying down the phone to my ex-boyfriend’s voicemail one too many times and making an absolute fool of myself did I still want to continue to drink? Why after waking up on the floor of a stranger’s 6th floor balcony in a pile of my own puke not remembering where I was or how I got there did I still want to continue to drink? Why did I still want to continue to drink when I had an endless list of stories like these?
Why?
The answer to this isn’t so simple. I don’t think anyone who has or had a challenging relationship with alcohol could have a simple answer to this.
I don’t have a basic “I used alcohol because of xyz” statement that I can share with you.
Because it wasn’t just that “I used alcohol because it made me feel more free” or, “I used alcohol because it would numb out the pain I felt in so many areas of my life” or, “I used alcohol because it allowed me to feel more confident” or, “I used alcohol because once I had that first sip I didn’t know how to stop” or any other variation of that statement. It was all of it. It was all of it and so much more.
Alcohol for the years that I participated in it, felt like everything to me. It was my best friend and my worst enemy. It was my safety blanket and the rug being pulled out from under me. It was my permission slip to say and do things that I wouldn’t ever otherwise say or do and it was also the punishment I felt I deserved for acting in such ways. It was a way to celebrate and a way to mourn. It was the liquid confidence I needed to get freaky in the sheets with different men and it was the reminder that I desperately depended on men validating me to feel “good enough”. It was a truth serum and it was also the reason I incessantly lied. It was part of my identity.
It’s hard to walk away from something when your identity is wrapped up in it, regardless of how toxic or harmful that thing may be. When I made the decision to quit drinking, I didn’t want to actually quit. I wanted to be able to keep going. I wanted to find a way where I could drink moderately. I wanted to be one of those girls that could have one or two glasses of wine, not the one who lost control of where things were heading once the first sip passed through my lips. I wanted to hold onto this part of my identity, but just be able to tone her back a little bit.
But deep down inside of me, I knew that I couldn’t. I hated the idea of abandoning alcohol, but I hated the ever growing impact wound alcohol was leaving on my life so much more.
There was once a point in my life that I was okay with the destruction that drinking was creating in my life, if I’m being honest, I felt like I deserved it. But as I worked on healing, learning to love myself, building up my worth independent of getting validation from men & authority figures, processing heavy emotions/traumas I had experienced, and so much more… I finally realized that I was worthy of a life without the constant stress and harm drinking left me with. Finally, I was ready.
My first day of alcohol free, March 12th 2022
The past 383 days of sobriety has challenged me in ways I didn’t know that I could be challenged. It has brought me to new edges within myself and my life. It has taken strength and willpower that I didn’t know that I had… and I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, choosing to remove alcohol from my life is the best decision I have ever made.
Since removing alcohol from my life, I have finally met myself. In the absence of drinking, I’ve been given my life back. I have never been happier, more proud of myself, or in alignment with what is and feels true to me. I have never had more fun, felt better, or had more clarity than I do now.
This is just the beginning… the beginning of me sharing my story with the world. The beginning of sharing the unexpected joys and beauty of sobriety. The beginning of connecting to others and making an impact in the ways that I can and the beginning of so much more.
So if you are here, reading this, resonating or relating to this… thank you. I’m excited for what is to come.
Reading this now, almost 4 full years into my alcohol free journey, I can feel the tenderness in that version of me, how new everything still was. Sobriety isn’t something I count days for anymore; it’s just part of who I am. What used to feel like loss has become peace and what used to feel like restriction has become freedom. Looking back, that first year was survival. The years since have been creation. Rebuilding a life, a social life, dating and a sense of self that doesn’t need numbing to exist… and to be completely honest, I fucking love it. Far more than I ever did or ever could have when alcohol was still part of my story.
I’ve learned that “you’re not ready until you’re ready” applies to everything… leaving the relationship, quitting the job, choosing yourself. Readiness isn’t a timeline; it’s a reclamation of self-trust. And when that moment hits (when you finally are ready) your entire life begins again, this time on your terms.
Being alcohol free isn’t my whole story anymore. It’s the foundation beneath every chapter I’m writing now. And I’m endlessly grateful to that version of me who chose to begin.
Xo, Kat
