This Once-in-A-lifetime Experience Brought Me Face-to-Face With My Relationship With Alcohol

This Sunday, I took my 7-year-old daughter to her first concert -- JoJo Siwa -- and we had front row seats!

I can't actually remember when she started liking JoJo because it feels like she always has, but her "relationship" with the performer has been like a security blanket (if you had a celebrity you looked up to as a child, you know what I mean). Even better, JoJo Siwa is a beautiful human. I love that my daughter has her as a role model.

I don't know who enjoyed the concert more: my daughter, who got to see JoJo from the front row, or me, who got to see my daughter see JoJo from the front row.

I fully expected the experience to be once-in-a-lifetime for both of us. What I didn't expect was the experience to bring me face-to-face with my relationship with alcohol.

I posted on Sunday about being out to lunch at an Irish pub with my daughter and "missing beer." It was like the environment triggered a body memory, the same way a smell can take you back to time you spent with a particular person. It brought up the carefree feeling of ordering a pint, taking it down swiftly, and then ordering (at least) one more. That rush. That Dopamine hit.

I never actually considered ordering a beer, though. To imagine myself doing so on a special one-on-one trip with my 7-year-old breaks my heart.

And also ...

I would have ordered that beer five years ago.

Thinking about the "before and after" of quitting drinking is a crazy experience. I can remember drinking around my kids and feeling -- at least on a surface level -- that it was acceptable. Now, I would never even consider it and the thought rarely occurs to me. It's like seeing the world through an entirely different lens. Behavior that was once completely normal now feels bizarre and wrong.

So there I was at this concert with my daughter, surrounded by thousands of little girls donning hair bows, tutus, and glitter ... and also surrounded by thousands of parents holding beers and mixed drinks.

I found myself, at first, startled by the phenomenon. Then I found myself in awe that this had been me. I was "that parent."

"That parent" whose relationship with alcohol keeps him or her from being fully present with their elementary-aged child at a concert.

That lures them in to the point of not even recognizing that the concert would be exponentially better without it.

That shields them from recognizing that they are negatively impacting their child by not being fully present.

I quit drinking when my kids were 6, 5, and 2. My oldest -- now 11 1/2 -- doesn't even remember that I drank. At the time? She would talk about "Mommy's wine" the way she talks about "Mom's coffee" now. My kids knew their mom to drink, even though they didn't quite understand what that meant. Almost five years later, they are learning what "sober" means.

Even if you are a parent with older children, it is never too late to pivot. No, I can't speak for every child, but I do know that real, tangible change is a catalyst for forgiveness.

When JoJo Siwa finished her encore performance, I had recorded more than 40 videos and taken just as many pictures. I wanted my daughter (and me) to have as many memories she could watch back as possible, so I toggled between recording and really being in the moment. I recorded her watching JoJo come on stage to open the show, of her and I sitting and singing together, of the look on her face when she saw the entire arena lit up in lights.

How would I have felt had I not quit drinking?

I undoubtedly would have had at least one beer at lunch and then would have bought another drink at the arena. The day would have included an inner dialogue of me trying to convince myself that I was "completely normal" and pondering whether my daughter was noticing a difference in me. I would have engaged with my daughter about my drinking, trying to play it up as something fun (think about that). The next morning, I would have had a headache and been filled with shame and regret.

I don't care if your child is seven, 17, or 27.

I don't care if you have one drink seven nights a week or seven drinks one night a week.

If you know you need to make a change, then you know.

Will things change overnight?

No.

But if you take it one step at a time, you'll soon find yourself a long way from where you started.

About First and Sober

First and Sober is about living life with presence. For some, that means first getting free from the hold alcohol has on their lives. For all, it means getting real about living each day wide awake and on purpose. If you believe you have a problem with alcohol you can't overcome on your own,?please reach out for help.