I create space to fill my summer with joy

One of my favorite sobriety practices is a sunrise walk with my dog. Teddy and I live in a touristy town, and last night was the final firework show of the Dog Bowl Festival. Thousands of people and their furry friends gather for competitive events, hot air balloons, live music, and food trucks. As a dog lover, I anticipate this kick-off to summer every year.

However, today on our sunrise walk downtown, Ted and I found more than a dozen semi-full beer cans and mini wine bottles left behind from the night before. Our sacred morning (walking) meditation spot was trashed. I was struck by the urge to chug a few and catch a buzz before my coffee. No one would see me. Feeling triggered as hell, I cried the entire fifteen minute walk home.

Summer, for me, triggers more glorified drinking memories than any other season. Everything we love about summer — weddings, graduation, barbecues, slowpitch softball, boating, bonfires, festivals, concerts — are all accessorized with a red solo cup.

My post-festival morning walk was a reminder that this will be my first attempt at an alcohol-free summer in over a decade. I could feel some serious FOMO surfacing. Sometimes not drinking makes me feel like an outsider.

But, since ditching alcohol several months ago, I can see my hard work paying off. In an effort to fill my summer without wine, I built a cozy twinkle-light-lit balcony garden and have become a devoted plant mom. I am brewing my own fancy iced teas. Ted and I have discovered three new walking trails. My brain is less foggy. And as a special sobriety gift, I splurged on the new Taylor Swift vinyl for my record player.

The point is, by removing alcohol, I have created space to fill my life with things that I love. Drinking alcohol causes us to miss out. Not the other way around.