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

The Parents....

I am blessed with two wonderful parents.

My childhood was, in my memory, a happy melange of butterscotch-flavoured Angel Delight, Space Hoppers, Blue Peter and Cindy dolls.

Throughout it all my parents have been endlessly patient, supportive and accepting.

So I know I really shouldn't worry about being honest with them about my past misdemeanours.

When I told my parents I'd quit drinking they were proud of me, if a little bemused.

When I said I'd landed a publishing contract for a book (The Sober Diaries) telling the story of the year I ditched the booze (and got breast cancer), they were thrilled for me.

But they haven't yet read it.

And because I love my parents so much, I only ever want them to think the best of me. They are the two people in the whole world who I least want to see my dark side.

But it has to happen at some point. So, today, first thing, before I had the chance to talk myself out of it, I sent this e-mail to my publisher:

Dear Charlotte 

I've been putting this off for a while, as I find the prospect terrifying, but I think the time really has come for my ever-patient, supportive and sainted parents (copied above) to read the book. I'm hoping that they won't disown me.

I'd be hugely grateful if you could send two proof copies (so they can read it simultaneously, rather than one reading while the other yells out "she said WHAT?!?") direct to them.

Many thanks,

Clare

I told Mr SM what I'd done.

"Really?" He said. "I thought you were planning to keep your head down and hope they never read it!"

"No," I replied, "that's my strategy with your parents. I'll never get away with that with mine."

And now I know I'm going to spend the next few days in a state of abject terror.

It takes me right back to the days I spent, aged sixteen, lying in wait for the postman, hoping to intercept the letter from my headmistress telling my parents I'd been caught smoking behind the squash court. 

Aarrrgggghhhh.

Love to you all,

SM x

Shame

An amazing thing has happened since I officially came out of the closet last week. (See my post: SoberMummy's Coming Out).

As well as posting here, I also posted my book cover on my Facebook page.

Now, I didn't think I had any sober friends. I thought all my friends drank (almost) as much as I did. I thought that me going sober would horrify them. That's why I hid for more than two years behind a pseudonym.

But, within hours of posting, several of my friends - from university, from advertising and from the school gate had messaged me privately saying I've given up too. Years ago. Best thing I ever did. Can we get together?

Why, why, why don't we shout about going sober? So we can find each other and support each other. Why do we all struggle on feeling so alone, when we're not?

I think mothers are particularly wary of confessing to having a problem with alcohol. We worry about being seen as bad parents, as terrible examples for our children.

Even more so, mothers who are in the medical or teaching professions, and who counsel patients and students daily about the dangers of alcohol.

Well, if you are a doctor, or a nurse, or a teacher then hear this: YOU ARE NOT ALONE! I get e-mails from doctors, nurses and teachers every single week.

We only feel alone because of the stigma surrounding alcohol addiction.

This makes me mad. And sad.

So, since I'm already out of that closet, and since I've never been one to do things by halves (not bottles of wine, not life), I decided to do a TED talk! On 'making sober less shameful.'

How, I asked myself, does one go about doing a TED talk? Who is TED and what's his e-mail address?

Then, I went to my postbox, and blow me down with a feather, I discovered, amongst the bills and flyers and catalogues, the most extraordinary piece of serendipity: a letter from my old Cambridge college saying We are hosting a TEDx event and are looking for alumnae who are interested in speaking.

So I applied. I wrote 300 words on how and why I want to change the world. Then I had to upload a one minute video of me talking to camera.

I roped in Mr SM.

We recorded many different versions. Some were too long. Some too short. The dog barked during one. This light was wrong in another. It was a nightmare.

Then we recorded one that was just perfect. 

Let me see! I said to Mr SM. He passed me the phone. It WAS perfect. Except for one thing: IT WAS UPSIDE DOWN!

Well, said Mr SM,  at least it'll stand out.

After some more trial and error we did one up the right way, and it's gone off, to TED (wherever he is).

Fingers crossed.

Love SM (Clare)

TO PREORDER SOBERMUMMY'S BOOK CLICK HERE (UK) OR HERE (USA)