My latest Target run was far from the usual this week – I left the store with a shopping cart stocked full of an inordinate amount of kombucha. If you haven’t had the (dis)pleasure of consuming the fizzy brown beverage, allow me to explain. Kombucha is, in technical terms “an ancient food dating back to as early as 220 B.C. It is a fermented drink made with tea, sugar, bacteria and yeast.” To me, it sort of tastes like rotten oranges; it is pungent, tangy, and acidic, with a hint of sweetness – each sip makes my insides recoil a bit, the same way a cheap vodka soda poured by a bartender with a heavy hand would. And that’s precisely why it’s become my latest obsession.
You see, my dear reader(s), I’m currently locked into the throes of a no-alcohol challenge, a journey I have affectionately labeled as my Kombucha Era, in the hopes that giving it a name will further establish its presence in my life (a naive thought but alas, a girl can dream.)
To no real surprise, the reactions to my mission haven’t been entirely encouraging. If the reactions were arranged into a pie chart I’d say the numbers would look like 60% doubtful, 30% amused, and a precious 10% supportive. Mind you, it isn’t the loftiest of goals – I’m only committing to a cool 30ish days of sobriety until the arrival of my 30th birthday next month, which on the surface doesn’t sound like much at all – but after realizing that the greater part of 2023 has been punctuated by booze-filled activities every single weekend without fail, I sense the Kombucha Era will be easier said than done.
I find it interesting how the desire to cut down on drinking is a recurring theme plaguing the majority of us in our twenties and thirties. It’s no secret that we’ve become obsessed with incorporating alcohol into almost any activity (flashback to the time I pre-gamed in my car for a child’s birthday party.) Marketing geniuses have managed to make the most arbitrary of activities appeal to the masses by adding alcohol as a component (still trying to figure out who allowed us to drink and throw hatchets.)
The act itself of having a night out has become a scripted routine that I’ve rehearsed many times by now; I am more than familiar with the sequence of events and I play my character very well.
Act 1: The Pre-Game – crucial to set the tone for a night out, particularly if I have no desire to participate in the event I’ve agreed to come out for.
Act 2: The Event – may or may not be awkward at its onset depending on the group and/or everyone’s current level of sobriety. Small talk about things no one really cares about. After Round Two or Three of drinks, there is a pivotal shift in the atmosphere – the conversation reaches beyond the surface, intimate details are revealed as everyone’s life story suddenly seems exponentially more interesting than it did before, the laughter grows louder, future plans are made (they usually never happen) and my capacity to retain memories has become impaired.
Act 3: The Aftermath – I wake up with a headache and bags under my eyes, mild amnesia, and I skip the gym.
Fin.
Looking back on it, I can’t help but wonder how many of our experiences are genuine and true, and how much of it all is contrived by liquor. Are we all enjoying what we’re doing and the people we’re with or are we just drinking our way through it? Are we depending on alcohol to make ourselves and the people around us seem more interesting?
If alcohol is removed from the equation, are we all just boring?
For me, the purpose of the Kombucha Era is to answer these questions; it is equal parts self-exploration and a social experiment. I would like to take this month to recognize what feels mundane versus what feels good; to separate the two, and chase only the things that fulfill me.
So, as much as I would love to take the next 30 days to turn down every social invitation that comes my way in order to preserve my sobriety, it would defeat the purpose of my mission if I did. Avoidance doesn’t breed growth – and this translates to many of the obstacles in life that challenge us. For me, my Kombucha Era means giving up alcohol, but I think as the summer comes to a close, it’s the perfect time for you (yes you, reader) to do some internal reflecting of your own and pursue your Kombucha Era, whatever that might look like for you.
Last night, I went out for an event I had labeled as “Drinks” in my calendar at the time I made the plans – it was a night out with some friends I hadn’t seen in quite awhile. Everyone at the table ordered a round of drinks, and then another, and then another – I downed a family-size glass bottle of Perrier. Much to my surprise, I enjoyed the night just as much as I would have if I had drank. So as it turns out, maybe we’re not all so boring after all.
