Let's Stop Being Anonymous!

I realise that I'm not one to talk here.

When I first quit drinking, I told no-one. Except my husband, as it was pretty obvious to him.

I told no-one because I was embarrassed. I was ashamed that in a world where everyone drinks, I was unable to control booze. I thought I was the only one.

I imagined that if I told my friends that I'd quit that they would judge me and assume that I'd been a terrible lush (partly true) and a terrible mother (not true, at least not most of the time).

I thought they'd label me boring and stop inviting me to parties. I thought they'd worry that I'd become all preachy and judgemental (as if I'm in a position to judge anyone!).

I created a pseudonym, SoberMummy, and found you guys, my fellow sober warriors, on the internet.

So, after all this anonymity, it felt a little ironic, to say the least, to find myself on LIVE TV last week.

That's me on the sofa on the Victoria Derbyshire show on Friday. I'm going to be on the Lorraine show tomorrow morning (Monday).

You see, I realise now that if we all stay silent then nothing will change and, more importantly, it's our stories that change the lives of those following on behind us.

I did a webinar (until recently I didn't even know what a webinar was!) on Soberistas last week (it's up on their website, under 'webinars'), and talked about the power of the first moment when I realised that I was not alone.

I was driving my car along a dual carriageway and listening to Woman's Hour on Radio 4. A lady came on called Lucy Rocca. I nearly crashed my car, because she started talking about my life.

As Lucy talked about her issues with booze, I realised that I was not alone. As she talked about her life since, I realised that there was hope and that life without booze might not only be possible, but actually enjoyable.

At the Golden Globes recently, Oprah said "what I know for sure is that speaking your truth is the most powerful tool we all have."

And she's right, because our stories change lives. They make people feel less isolated and they spread hope.

And you know what I've discovered since I came out with a bang (yet more evidence that I'm an all-or-nothing person and just can't do moderation!)?

When you tell your truth, loudly and proudly, when you make yourself vulnerable, people applaud you and support you. They don't judge (with the exception of a few trolls on the Mail Online).

Since my book came out two weeks ago, telling my story in all its gory detail, I've had literally hundreds of messages from people all over the world saying that's my life you're describing. I'm so relieved I'm not alone!

(To buy my book, The Sober Diaries, click here. Or you can read the first few chapters for free using the 'look inside' feature).

When I first started talking to publishers, some of them said "Your book might sell on Kindle, but no-one is going to want to be seen holding a book with Sober in the title."

Well, they were wrong, because last week loads of well known Instagrammers posted pictures of themselves HOLDING MY BOOK! Loud and proud!

I was so chuffed that I actually started Instagramming myself. I'm not very good at it yet, but if you'd like to follow me, I'm on @clare_pooley (Don't forget that underscore, or you get another, very confused, Clare Pooley!)

Things are changing, my friends. It's starting to become not only okay to confess to quitting the booze, but positively fashionable! 

So, once you're feeling comfortable, and you can face the inevitable questions that arise, then do consider COMING OUT and joining the Sober Revolution!

Hurrah for us!

There's loads of new stuff on the SoberMummy Facebook page (click here to go there, 'like' to stay updated) including an incredibly poignant 'farewell to alcohol' written by an old advertising buddy of mine, and great articles on quitting booze from The Pool and The Guardian.

Let's say NO to sober shame,

Love SM x

Mothers

I don't think you ever properly appreciate your own mother until you have children of your own.

It's then that you realise how much she did for you. All those grazes kissed, tantrums diffused, stories read. And now that #1 is nearly a teenager, I am in awe of how pitch perfect my Mum was through all those difficult years (most of the time).

Looking back, she seemed to know exactly when to let me make my own mistakes, when to intervene with a guiding hand and when to keep her counsel, however hard that might have been.

Over the last few weeks I've been telling a handful of people about this blog, and the possible book. They've all been amazing - really supportive and genuinely enthusiastic (although I have, I think, chosen my audiences wisely).

But I have not told my Mum.

Then, last week, Mum, #1 and I went out for lunch together. Three generations of women, bound by genetics and by love, but very different in so many ways.

We're all happily slurping our ramen when #1 pipes up with "I'm so proud of my Mummy. She's had two agents call her about her book."

Silence.

"Ah yes," I said, cautiously, "It's non fiction. I'll tell you all about it if it actually comes off."

My mother looks me firmly in the eye and says "I hope you're using a pseudonym?"

"I don't think I can, Mum," I reply, "as the publishers will expect me to do lots of publicity. You know, Woman's Hour, Loose Women, that sort of thing."

"Mmmm," she replies as we all stare into our bowls of noodles, and we do what we always do when there's an uncomfortable atmosphere: we change the subject.

And now this is making me think she must know already. Why else would she ask if I was using a pseudonym? I might be publishing a book about knitting, or fairy cakes.

When we were in Cornwall last year I told her I was writing a blog, because she'd accused me (jokingly, I think) of having an affair, as I kept sneaking off to use the laptop and closing the lid when anyone approached.

Did she track me down?

MUM, ARE YOU READING THIS?

Love SM x