What Not to Say

I recently attended a gathering with extended family, many of whom I’d not spoken to in years. A lot of families find themselves lives and miles apart, once the matriarch and patriarch have passed away, and mine is no exception. When we do get together, conversations often feel arbitrary or surface; how do two people who shared childhoods catch up on decades? We often leave conversations with distant family examining what we said or wishing we said something we didn’t. Or worse, feeling wounded by a comment that was well-intended but landed in the innermost vulnerable space, which was opened by loss, pain, or suffering.

Such was the comment from a dear cousin of mine, who I truly love but don’t often see or talk to. She’d seen my Instagram posts about being sober for three years now. She mentioned that it looked like I was living my best life, followed by, “I didn’t even know you had a problem.” On its surface this comment is meant to compliment the recipient by stating that he or she held it together so well it a “problem” wasn’t obvious. You’re married and have kids. You show up to sports and your job. You take vacations and go on date nights. Good job. High five. Truly, I had been doing what was expected of me for decades, so what or where is the problem?

While I believe this comment is honestly meant to be flattering or kind, I will describe how it feels when it lands in the mind and on the heart of someone who struggled for most of her adult life to feel problem-free. It is part of the black-and-white line of thinking that says, if you aren’t at rock bottom with your health, finances, relationships or legal standing, you don’t have a problem. It makes the person who decides to step off the train before it derails feel like they were being unnecessarily cautious. That they could have rode it out much longer before going down in a blaze of glory. That one should only decide to cut alcohol out of their life if it’s “a problem.”

The problem with that is that problems are often internal. Sure, they eventually manifest themselves in bloodshot eyes and broken capillaries, bloated bellies and incontinence, but the suffering that goes on inside is equally if not more destructive. Alcohol use disorder starts in the brain and spreads to the soul, then bleeds outward until our bodies start to deteriorate. So my problem was on the inside, and I decided to address it before it got to the point where my actions and their consequences gave me away. Ironically, the work we do to heal starts externally and makes its way into our hearts and minds.

Maybe the bigger problem with I-didn’t-know-you-had-a-problem is that it downplays your experience. While you feel like you’ve slain the dragon, this comment slides off of you like you were wading in the baby pool and stepped on a bee, momentarily painful and disappointingly shallow. It is impossible for one person to see the steepness of another’s climb. That’s why affirmation always beats disregard. Look at you, slaying dragons. Onward and upward, friend.

While you feel like you’ve slain the dragon, this comment slides off of you like you were wading in the baby pool and stepped on a bee, momentarily painful and disappointingly shallow.

Variations on “I didn’t know/think you had a problem,” include “you weren’t that bad,” and “why can’t you just have one and be done?” or the more aggressive statements (that usually come out of the mouth of someone worried about their own habits), “come on, one won’t hurt,” “you deserve it!” or “don’t be a party pooper.” These may be well intentioned, designed to make you feel like you are a normal member of society. Or they may be a throwback to the peer pressure of your teens. Either way, comments like these make people who no longer drink feel awkward at best, and at worst, alienated and judged.

I don’t want to have to bring up the obvious comparison here, but it seems like the time. Would you consider telling someone who was addicted to heroin or cocaine and got clean that they should have one more hit…that it was okay because it didn’t seem like they had a problem? That they deserve it? Downplaying or disregarding someone’s decision not to drink does nothing to help their journey and might even pave the way for doubt or magical thinking to creep in. Or it may just increase the perceived space between us and them. On the other hand, encouragement, affirmation and a warm hug are much appreciated.

Love and light.