Wine by Nature

In my first book, my title poem came with the line “perhaps I’m wine by nature, Almaden-boxed Chardonnay”, and I talked about having a dependence on drugs was one of my biggest fears, from growing up being raised by a drug addict.

I’ve been met with an overwhelming amount of support for my first two books, praised for my honesty, authenticity, and raw expression of emotion for my upbringing, but there’s always been a part that I failed to mention.

While writing Wise by Nature and coming to terms with my mom’s addiction, I struggled with my own in silence.

It’s something I’ve never loved to talk about. It made my advocacy feel hypocritical and my stance feel performative. I’d cope with the events I discussed by coming home and drinking bottles of wine, just like the woman who bore me. I assumed I was different because I always swore off white and drank red.

I began smoking, but it was different because a geek bar wasn’t cigarettes, and a cart wasn’t a joint. For someone overly poetic, the irony of my coping was lost on me. I felt normal for doing this, not stigmatized.

I never went to school sophomore year and spent my time in my room on substances. I fell into abusing medically prescribed Xanax and berating my mother for doing the same thing. I lashed out on the people that I loved, but it was different because I didn’t hit them. I was a hypocrite and a victim of my environment.

Sobriety was a weird journey for me. As I entered the part of my life where it became more socially acceptable for me to participate in the behaviors that I had been for years, I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t. I was a functioning drug addict at the ripe age of fifteen, but couldn’t process why I still can’t remember much of those years.

It’s not easy to get sober when I can walk downstairs and finally bond with the mother that I’d always wanted to by relapsing, but somehow I did. I quit therapy and somehow, that helped. It was hard to talk about drugs at 4pm on a Tuesday and not be tempted to do them. As much as I’m an advocate for mental health, I do think quitting therapy was beneficial for me. My therapist was an angel, but it wasn’t the medium I needed to start to heal.

Being sexually assaulted days after finding out my dad was diagnosed with a terminal illness made me believe that maybe my mom had it right, maybe this is how I cope. As per usual, I learned the hard way that she was wrong.

Sobriety is a complicated thing when in college. I consider myself some mix of California sober, which basically means that I’m not, but personally, my relationship with drugs and alcohol is different. I always had the mentality that abstinence isn’t realistic with my lifestyle. I like going out with my friends, and I always wanted to find a healthy medium of being able to have a few drinks without using it to cope. After sophomore year, I’ve worked on this, and I think I’ve got it down.

I’ve grown into a support system who calls me out if I’m not doing well, and I’ve always been someone who believes that accountability is a firm pillar of friendship. I’m eternally grateful for these people. I don’t use them to cope, but I’m okay with having a drink. That’s the relationship I always wanted with alcohol, and to grow away from the examples of drinking I saw in my childhood.

Thanks for listening, I know this could’ve been one that’s harder to hear.