Horny & Terrified: My Life Dating Sober
Alcoholic turned TV writer, Cameron Griggs-Posey's life has always been a comedy of errors. A survivor of religion, addiction, & millennial men, her life is full of stories that she tells through character & story-driven comedy scripts. She’s currently an Associate Producer on The Conners & wrote her first episode for the series last season.
Is he lying about his height? Are we going to have anything in common? Am I showing too much cleavage or not enough cleavage? What if he believes Donald Trump is simply just misunderstood and not a fake tan, face-melted megalomaniac? WHAT IF HE HATES HARRY STYLES? All of these are normal anxieties that I used to calm down with a few glasses of wine... That’s a lie. I would drown them out with a whole bottle. But now? Now, I’m different. Now, I’m sober.
Dating, falling in love, navigating relationships, and having sex in sobriety is not easy. Seriously, how do you meet someone if you’re sober? For me, it involves a lot of endless swiping on dating apps or checking to see if my Postmates delivery driver is cute — if I’m missing my side of ranch, we’re over.
In my twenties, I picked up an impressive alcohol addiction. I should’ve received a medal for “Best Rock Bottom Hitter.” Alcohol was the only way I could feel confident in myself, specifically around men. By the time I was 21, I was deeply insecure. I had never been kissed, I was still a virgin, and I had never drunk alcohol. But I was hooked as soon as I took a sip of that sweet, sweet nectar from the gods (sour apple martinis, obviously). It was like when the fairy godmother changed Cinderella’s rags into a beautiful ball gown. I had never felt so sexy, so unstoppable, so unbelievably powerful. Alcohol gave me what I couldn’t give myself, but it also took everything away.
I’ve always been a dreamer. When I was a kid, and someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would say, “Hollywood.” As the years passed and I got older, my answer stayed the same. Fast forward to my senior year of college, I had plans to move out to Los Angeles as soon as I graduated to pursue a career in film and television. No one was going to stop me. Little did I know that I would be the one getting in my own way.
My final year of college was spent carefully fostering an alcohol addiction. Yes, I was spending all my money on booze and showing up to class tipsy, but God, was I able to talk to and flirt with men comfortably for the first time in my life. My last semester took a turn for the worse when I found out that I had a small brain tumor pushing on my pituitary gland. This information destroyed me. I was scared and heartbroken. The only way I knew to cope and instantly forget was to drink. So, I drank. And drank. And drank until I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. In a matter of two months, I went from never being kissed to having sex for the first time. And on April Fool’s Day, to boot. Why wouldn’t I make losing my virginity a joke?
Graduation came and went, and I was still living at home and working part-time at a job I didn’t love but could handle while being a raging alcoholic. My dreams of “Hollywood” were so far away I could barely see them through my beer goggles. I never stopped longing for my dreams, but my need for alcohol had become stronger, so I continued to drink every single day for the next three years. I had to. How else was I going to function, forget, and fight that never-ending hangover? It was a vicious cycle that seemed impossible to escape.
After four years of drinking myself to sleep every night and waking up the next day on the kitchen floor covered in cheese, I finally said enough is enough and put the bottle down. It was the hardest but best thing I’ve ever done for myself. And as my mother likes to remind me, I can no longer blame my “attitude problem” on drinking. Whatever, Sheilah.
My mid-to-late twenties was the story of a single girl healing from a bad breakup with alcohol. It was a crash course in learning to date and, more importantly, live life sober. It was a tale of being horny and terrified. Which, to be honest, I still am today. Dating sober is like The Rock wearing Spanx. It’s Chandler Bing trying to be Carrie Bradshaw. It’s The Shining but replace ghosts with alcoholism: "All work and no play makes Cameron a drunk girl."
In an age ruled by online dating, ghosting, and non-monogamy, it feels almost impossible to date, with or without alcohol. So, how do I do it? How do I soberly date? I LITERALLY HAVE NO IDEA. At thirty years old, I’m still figuring it out. Most of the time, it involves a lot of anxious pacing and screaming into pillows before my date picks me up.
Now almost six years clean, I’d still like a nice shot of whiskey to help me pluck up the courage to talk to that guy at the coffee shop. Two shots for when he starts droning on and on about watching The Godfather on 35mm film. Surprisingly, though, most men respect my situation. They’ll ask me if it’s okay for them to drink or take me on dates that don’t involve sitting at a bar. And though I do miss alcohol, it wasn’t the main problem. It was how I coped with the underlying issue: the little voice inside my head telling me I’m not good enough. The devil on my shoulder that whispers things like, “You’re going to sound stupid if you say that,” or “He’s gonna lose his erection when he sees you naked.”
Dating sober—hell, dating in general, requires a lot of self-love, deep breaths, and constantly reminding yourself that everything is going to be okay. You’re in control of the situation. If you don’t feel comfortable, leave. Take it slow and be mindful of triggers. If your date shames you for not drinking, throw water in their face. It feels good, and they probably needed a shower anyway.
But no matter how much my anxiety pushes me to drink, nothing could ever make me want to pick up the bottle again and slip into that dark abyss. I wasn’t Cameron when I was drinking. I did things I’d never do sober. I hurt people who I loved. I was empty. And I was lost. But after a lot of therapy, self-reflection, and healing, I’ve become whole again. And yes, I do still feel like Bambi on ice when it comes to dating, and that little voice inside my head never really goes away, but now I finally have the tools to tell that bitch to sit down and shut up.
Let go and let God. One day at a time. Mind over matter and all that jazz. Amen.
Cameron’s Tips for Dating Sober:
1. Own your choice. Whatever the reason, you decided drinking is not for me. Don’t feel ashamed. Don’t make excuses. Just own it.
2. Go easy on yourself. Dating, in general, is the absolute worst, and the fact that you’re doing it sober means you are unbelievably and undeniably strong.
3. Be honest. Tell your date from the beginning that you don’t drink. You need to state your boundaries and stick to them. If you’re uncomfortable, make it known. No man or woman is worth the temptation.
4. Have a go-to non-alcoholic drink ready to order. My favorite is a virgin spicy margarita with extra jalapeños. It’s tasty, and if your date is unbearable, the pain will distract you.
5. Don’t go to a bar. Just don’t. If you’re sober, going to a bar on a first date is like trying to go to Target and not buy something. It doesn’t work.
6. Wear something that makes you feel confident and powerful. I don’t care if it’s a leopard-print trench coat or baggy jeans paired with a wrinkly t-shirt. If you feel like a boss-ass bitch, then wear it.
7. And finally, breathe. A lot. Like, a lot, a lot.
