I'd had enough embarrassing nights out; I'd woken up beside more than my fair share of unattractive strangers, and was, in turn, more than ready to bid farewell to the drunken rants, crying jags and battles with lovers, friends, cab drivers, cashiers and waiters.
I also thrilled at the notion of never having another hangover.
But when he was using — alcohol, cocaine, and meth — he “had more promiscuous sex,” including cheating on partners: “When I was feeling bad about myself, I’d have sex with some guy and he’d leave, and I’d feel used, and that would make me feel loved. He was insecure too.” That relationship imploded and they both relapsed. He says he and his fiancé talk openly, and he doesn’t keep secrets.
I’ll probably make myself a juice before I go to work too. If you have amazing chemistry, fancy the pants off each other, feel like you’ve known each other your entire life, and ‘can’t believe we’ve only just found each other’ then you’ll be so high on lust and infatuation, that one lime cordial will be enough to tip you into a euphoric Zen-like state. Unless you are impressively unfussy, dating is a numbers game, which means, by definition, that you will probably go on more sub-par, just about medium and downright terrible dates than really good ones. And if I do that (and if dating really is a numbers game), then I’m going to have to get on board with sober dating.
(Seriously, my hangovers were baaaaaad.) I'm not sure whether I classified as an alcoholic.
I didn't have to drink every day, though most days I did. Sometimes it turned me into a yelling, crying beast.
After my story about dating sober ran in Elle Magazine, I heard from other women also learning to navigate the Tinder era without a glass of wine in their hands.
I know many ladies (and gentlemen) struggle with these issues, too, so I asked one of them if I could share our correspondence, and she agreed.