You Don’t Have to Win the Party
“This can sometimes make the other person feel like a bit of a jerk, but guess what? That’s not my problem!”
Let’s follow up with my dilemma from last week, which was about me figuring out how to navigate the hard-partying kindergarten parents at our son’s school. This was the gist:
During an afterschool pickup, one of the moms asked me if I was going to game night, and I mumbled an excuse that we were too stressed out because of the WGA strike. “Well, isn’t that what alcohol is for?” she asked. I politely laughed and agreed but never followed up with “I don’t drink” because I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Isn’t that strange? Then another mom came by and began to ask us about summer plans, and she recommended a not-so-fancy country club where the “kids can swim all day and the bar has great $4 wine specials,” and, again, I just laughed a jittery ha-ha-ha and left it at that. After collecting all this data, my knee-jerk solution to this problem is easy: Never socialize with school parents. But I know that’s a coward’s way out, but then again — is it? If anyone has dealt with this situation gracefully, or if anyone has similar insecurities about their sobriety in certain situations, let me know.
And, man, I got so many helpful responses, so I’m running some of them here. Hope these help you navigate your next drinking event as a non-drinker!
*****
“It’s been a while since I was nervous about telling people I don’t drink, because after 20 years, it’s such a fact of me that if I’m in a situation where I know I’m going to encounter that person repeatedly (like school parenting, I guess) it’s just easier to let them know the first time it comes up for real, as in an actual invitation.
I also really don’t like to make people uncomfortable, but — I know you know this — that’s their fucking problem. Specifically, pretty often it’s that they’re worried about their own drinking, and although you probably can’t help them with that, the one thing you might be able to do is be an example of someone who doesn't drink but is cool about it. I feel like normalizing sobriety has probably been the most helpful thing I’ve done for a lot of people.
Obviously being nonjudgmental is not a panacea; if they’re worried about their drinking that’s gonna come out. I recently connected with my very best childhood friend and while it was great to see him he was clearly not okay with me not drinking. He made at least a dozen increasingly sharp-edged ‘jokes’ about it as he got more and more into his scotch while I sipped on seltzer and cranberry juice. It made me sad.
Anyway, I feel you, and particularly about the situations where you don't know anyone well and they’re all gonna be drinking. I guess one thing to consider is that statistically, there's likely to be other parents in the same situation, and you’re not going to find each other unless all of you are brave at the same time?”
*****
“Out of religious obligation, I have not ever been a drinker. I do not make this statement as some sort of moral superiority but merely as a statement of fact. It has conditioned my social interactions my entire life. Drinking certainly would have made my life course on many occasions less lonely, less stressful, and less difficult at times, but it would have come with guilt and shame, which I have had enough of already.
I made the choice then, long ago, that valuing myself, creating self-worth, and going forward with dignity was more important to me than what I might gain from the social settings in which alcohol was part of the event. This has meant staying away from work-related, children’s school-associated events like parents’ nights etc. In doing so, when asked about the reasons I don’t go I have been upfront and honest about the fact I don’t drink alcohol and whatever judgment flows from that, so be it. I don’t say it is easy, but I no longer have regrets. I wear my decision not to drink alcohol now as a core aspect of my person, something that those who I am close to who know me go out of their way to accommodate and understand. I hope that this is what your journey and life of sobriety take you to. A community of people who love you and recognize that your sobriety is an integral part of who you are and go out of their way to make it easier for you to be sober. And for now, if parents’ nights are not it, then so be it.”
*****
“Tough question about dealing with other parents. I struggled with being embarrassed about sobriety around other parents at first too, but then I decided to just say fuck it and embrace it. Truth is, I don’t really want to be friends with ALL the other parents. Some of them are assholes. Some of them are unrecovered addicts of one kind or another. Some of them are people who would have hated me in high school, and some of them are people I would have hated in high school.
They’re just people. You don’t need to fit in with all of them, you just need to find a couple ride or dies who will be your partner in crime at these painful drinky BBQs with all their meat and alcohol. You’ll only find those folks if you are honest about who you are, so own it.
Fair warning, though: I owned it and am only now finding my tribe as my youngest is finishing his sophomore year of high school. So this is not the best plan if you want to be super popular.”
*****
“This doesn’t read as insecurity to me. It reads as saving yourself emotional labor. You don’t owe these school parents an explanation of your sobriety, nor are they likely looking for one. They’re only chattering away, making small talk, and perhaps the reason you “take the easy way out” is because you sense that your full-on explanation of why you don’t want a margarita or a glass of $4 wine would turn a light conversation into something more substantial than it ever wanted to be.
I was paralyzed when I was five years old and was never supposed to walk again. As a result, I walk w/ a limp. When I was younger, and people asked me ‘Oh, what happened to your leg, did you hurt yourself?’ I would immediately go into this whole explanation. As I got older, I realized I found doing so exhausting and that I don’t owe those people anything. Now, if it’s a person I’m unlikely to interact w/ regularly, or if I’m simply not in the mood to get into it, I simply say (w/ what I hope is an upbeat manner), ‘Oh, I'm not hurt - I just have a limp.’ This can sometimes make the other person feel like a bit of a jerk, but guess what? That’s not my problem!”
*****
“I’ve got self-imposed senses of obligation aplenty when it comes to socializing, and the guilt I feel about being a sort of hermit is very real. What do I do? I bow out or bail. A lot. And I feel better about it when I think up something else to do. Not as an excuse to give the inviter, but like a project for that date that is not playing solitaire on my phone or watching TV. That makes me feel better. Though I’m sure what actually makes me feel better is that I listened to my gut and rewarded myself with putting my energy into something I enjoy as opposed to dreading it for days.
But when I don’t bow out (which is what you’re asking, I think?) I say, ‘Sure,’ and ‘I’ll bring that soda’ or whatever NA drink I want. The key for me is not lying even a little bit by saying things like, ‘That sounds fun.’ Because, sorry, humanity, it almost never does. And the lie compounds the dread for me.”
*****
“Even worse is telling people MULTIPLE times I don’t drink! Friday after school at the park, another mom thoughtfully brought me a hard kombucha for at least the third time. I know it comes from a good place, so I gently reminded her, but then it was awkward.
My go-to lines are ‘Three small children already make me feel hungover in the morning, and I don't need any more handicaps’ or ‘I quit while pregnant and just never went back.’ That one might not work for you. Also, ‘Have you ever changed a diaper hungover? No thanks!’”
*****
“I recently returned from a soccer tournament with my daughter, and the other parents drank all weekend. A couple of parents at the team dinner/restaurant even teased me and said, ‘What’s she having?’ (Insinuating that, of course, I was having a strong drink.) Haha. I was having seltzer with lime.
I tend to shy away from the topic (being a nondrinker) with people I don’t know well because of the (assumed) stigma. I wish that I was loud and proud about my sobriety, but there is still a part of me that just wants to fly under the radar.”
*****
“I feel like socializing with our kids’ friends’ parents is so STRESSFUL for me. I can do media gatherings where everyone is getting shitfaced because I don't really measure myself against those people anymore — I’m too old, too sober, have kids, etc. I’m not as cool or good-looking or interesting as those people, but who expects me to be? Not me, that’s for sure! Even family gatherings have lost their sting — I’m responsible, I’m together, etc.
With other parents at our kids’ school, I do what someone in a recovery meeting called ‘compare and despair.’ These are my peers, and I constantly feel like I don’t measure up — I don’t golf, I’m not great at fixing up stuff around the house, and of course not able to drink. There was a ‘dad’s beers’ thing I did pre-pandemic where I went and just kept ordering Diet Coke, and finally, one of them was like, ‘So what’s up?’ and I said, ‘Oh yeah . . . I don’t drink anymore,’ and the alpha dad was like ‘Oh yeah, my wife doesn’t either,’ and then the mood was killed, and I was very worried about whether I’d get text for next meet up and if I’d go. Luckily COVID came along shortly after and settled that dilemma for me!
We’ve had mild success with doing like mid-day meetups at pools or trampoline parks or zoos or whatever, where it’s clear nobody is going to be drinking. But as my kid turns 5, I’m more worried my own social unease and dodging invitations is gonna fuck her up. Or worry that the worry is gonna fuck her up. I don’t know, man, probably have to buckle up and take some golf lessons.”
*****
“I have so been there and will likely be there again soon! I, too, struggle with social anxieties around interacting with my kids’ classmates’ parents. After YEARS of Al-Anon, I go back to some fundamental stuff when I find myself slipping down the rabbit hole:
Most people are not thinking about me, just like I’m not thinking about them. They are thinking about themselves.
My kid is not a reflection of me — my kid is their own person and ultimately, their success or struggles are not my success or struggles — they have their own higher power. My job is to love them.
It’s not about the parents; it’s about the kids. And my kiddo isn’t going to pick their friends based on which parents I connect with — my kid is going to hang with the kid they like based on playing at recess, soccer practice, aftercare, etc.
My desire to be liked is rooted in my desire to control. It’s none of my business what other people think of me.
Thanks for giving me the chance to write this down. It is helpful to me to reflect on my own progress in this area and write it out. I need to reconnect to my Al-Anon home group after a few weeks away — my life is hectic, and raising young children is hectic. (I have a nine-year-old son and a four-year-old daughter.)
I had to talk myself into going to a Third Grade Mom’s Night Out two Fridays ago. After worrying about it, I actually had some great conversations/moments of connection and was able to slip out on the early side with another low-key mom, so I didn’t feel awkward. Bonus: I didn’t have to hang around for the drunken end of the party. And I was genuinely surprised (not sure why) when I arrived that these ladies were glad to see me. (Could it be my low self-esteem? I’m so hard on myself.)
On the flip side, my daughter quickly established a best friend in preschool, and what happened next was MAGIC: I became friends with her mom. This shows that none of this stuff is predictable (or actually up to us).”
*****
“I just had this happen on a work trip this past week. It was my birthday during the trip, and one of my coworkers kept suggesting we go out for drinks, happy hour, etc. I cringed through this (internally) and responded, truthfully, that I had other plans with a friend. He suggested my friend, and I would go out for girls night wine o’clock (can’t make this shit up). This coworker has historically mentioned drinking when we discuss weekend plans, but that was easier to evade with a ‘haha, have fun’ since I knew he was miles away.
Cut to this birthday wine plans suggestion, and I responded with a ‘Oh I don’t drink,’ and he insisted I should since it’s my birthday wtf? And I said, ‘No, I’m sober.’
That was that. He shut up. Another coworker asked more about being sober, and I said I don’t like labels, but I come from alcoholics and decided it’s no longer serving me to drink. That shut everyone up.
I felt okay (buzzing with truth).
So I mostly tolerate people’s drinking suggestions until I can’t escape their projection. I didn’t shut my coworker down, nor did I lie. I also didn’t over disclose . . . something I used to do in earlier sobriety.”
*****
“I was pretty socially anxious before I got sober, and it lessened with time in the program, but I still felt (feel) so awkward around school parents. I never really felt like I was one of them, which made my anxiety spike before all school/sports events. My daughter started playing in a travel volleyball team right when I got sober, and at first, it was so weird for me to be around other parents who I normally wouldn’t hang out with without drinking. Especially when they were drinking.
A few things helped and still help.
One — it’s totally ok not to go if I feel too weird. If it’s going to be a particularly alcohol-heavy event, it’s ok for me to stay home. I believe my sobriety is strong, and I can go anywhere etc., but I don’t have to put myself in a situation that is unnecessarily difficult. No one really cares that much if I stay home or go!
Two — go for a set amount of time. One hour, two, etc. Having lots of kids and being legit exhausted is a built-in excuse!
Three — remember, I don’t owe anyone an explanation of why I’m not drinking. No one usually says anything, and if they do, I say “I’m just really trying to stay hydrated!” Or something like that.
Four — remember, these are not my people. It’s ok if I don’t feel like I’m one of them. They’re people I was thrown together with by my kid’s school or volleyball or whatever. I remember feeling so stressed out about a volleyball event and how all the other moms were going to get mani-pedis together, and I felt left out and awkward. My therapist gently asked me if I wanted to go get mani-pedis with them? And I was like… no! I actually don’t want to hang out with them because they’re not my people and I don’t even really like them all that much. So… I don’t have to work so hard to fit in. I HAVE PEOPLE NOW! They’re just not these particular ones.
I don’t know why consciously focusing on that helps, but it is probably the most helpful thing for me. It’s like it lets me off the hook . . . Remembering I don’t actually want to be one of them and I don’t need their approval.
You have a tribe of people who love you and support you, and really know you. It’s ok to hang out with people who you’re never going to be ‘one of’ because you have lots of other awesome people on your bench.
Five — Bring a spouse or friend who really is one of your people, so you can remember who you are and that you’re loved and accepted already.
I had sober friends come to all my kid’s birthday parties early on. I have one mom friend from volleyball who knows I’m sober and she actually is one of my people and a good friend. Having her around helped.
Six - Go to a meeting before or after the event.
Seven - Pray before and after the event.
I feel like, with most things in sobriety, it gets easier the more I do it. I trust my intuition a little more now about choosing to attend/not attending kid events and how to handle myself around drinking parents.”