I fancy myself a wine enthusiast, a drinker, a partaker if you will. Yes, I drink to an uncertain excess if the truth be told, but just shy of drunkenness. I hate to be drunk and avoid it at most costs, but it happens on occasion regretfully. I come from a family of non-drinkers, so I’m the unnamed black sheep. I usually sit with my family drinking wine, while they have their tea. Eyebrows are raised, silence ensues as I pour my first glass. My wine bottle gets cracked open at cocktail hour like clockwork. Six o’clock on Thursday and Friday, if I’m not working that night, and 4 or 5 o’clock on the weekend days. I have my standards. I try not to drink during the week, but Thursday is close enough to the weekend to count.
“Are you a wino” my mother asks with an accusatory tone, as I stand in her kitchen. My only response is simple and quiet, “Perhaps I am mother. Perhaps I am.” What can I say?!? “Yes mother, I drink to make you miserable” is what she may want to hear, but it’s not true. I drink because I enjoy it. I like the taste, the smell, the feeling. I think she envisions me as the loveable “wino” character Otis in the Andy Griffith Show; disheveled, falling down, slurring words – a person to be embarrassed of. I think it’s the idea that her daughter could be “a drunk” that really disturbs her. I am nothing of the sort.
Most of my friends end their day with a wine or two. I have no judgement. However, I found a few years ago, that drinking wine during the week effected my ability to concentrate and focus the next day. So, I changed it up and only drinking on weekends, with the exception of special occasions, holidays and vacations. Sipping wine while I knit, watch TV or chat with a friend is a great pleasure. I am relaxed and happy to share my time and my life.
I write this after having a bottle of wine, no effects of a wine stupor. I am not drunk. Why is there such a stigma around enjoying wine or alcohol? Why must I justify my actions to those who do not like alcohol or those who don’t drink it? Explaining why I drink wine reeks of insecurity and self-doubt. I can’t do that. Is it not possible to partake without being seen as having a “problem?” I think so. But, for many, the perception is that one drink is too much. Is one cookie too much, is one bowl of ice cream too much? Where are these invisible standards that we must adhere to? Who makes up the rules?
People know what works for them, so let’s live and let live. Perhaps we should.
Cheers.
Jo McLaughlin
Jo is a media professional working in Massachusetts. She is the founder of Dilettante life, and the co-host of the podcast Dipstitch (dipstitch.net, available on Spotify and Apple podcasts). She enjoys writing for Dilettante Life observing life and sharing experiences.