Since the day I was born, beer has been an omnipresent staple in my life.

Before I tasted wine, which would become my drink of choice and also the nail in my coffin, so to speak, before mommy wine culture was an even thing, before my relationship with alcohol would be labeled as problematic, before my recovery, if you call it that, or my discovery, if you don’t, before my sober coach training or expertise in the alcohol free space, before I became the person I am today, before I knew anything about alcohol, there was beer. Beer was my first sip. Beer was tightly woven into the tapestry of my identity. It still is. In short, I love beer.

In some ways, falling in love with beer was my destiny.

My parents were both beer drinkers and beer lovers who met in a local beer tent. I was born in a small town that was home to more bars than churches. The local taverns had more worshippers than the parishes. My hometown is located in a state whose Major League Baseball team is named after...

Spring Break, Man.

On my 21st birthday (also my golden birthday), I got a tattoo and headed to Panama City Beach for a week in the sun with my friends. 

Finally legal to drink alcohol! 

I watched frat boys drink so much that they dug a hole in the sand to puke in and then cover it up and drink some more.

Even as a party girl myself, I felt sad watching this. 

I wondered what their mothers’ would think and it seemed dangerous. 

Spring Break has always been a thing for me. 

On my first sober Spring Break 3 years ago, my husband and I sat there at the pool listening to Jimmy Buffet and staring at each other. 

What in the hell were we going to do?

How was this going to be fun?

Who does this?

Who stays sober on Spring Break?

How?

It seemed awkward, uncomfortable, and even painful at the time.

If that’s where you are at, this is for you!

Flash forward to today, 3 years sober, and many vacations in.

I just returned from a long weekend away and I am...