The Pool Day That Used to Start With a Glass of Rosé

The sun, the SPF, the afternoon you'll actually remember.

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It’s a Thursday in June. It’s sunny. It’s hot. And it’s time to head to the pool.

Your heart begins to race and your mind starts to wander. You’re facing the slow, unstructured expanse of a summer afternoon, which is exactly the kind of afternoon that used to begin with a glass of rosé before you even changed into your swimsuit.

Except this summer, you’re doing things differently. You’re giving yourself a chance to see what a sober summer feels like. And that means it’s time to tackle a sober pool day.

The habit

Here’s how it ‘s gone every other summer: Swimsuits on, sunscreen applied, everyone out the door. You’d grab a cold glass of something on the way out - just to take the edge off, just to settle in, just because it was summer and that’s what you’ve always done during summer. The kids would splash and you’d sit in a chair at the edge of the pool, a cold drink sweating in your hand.

That was the signal your brain learned: pool day equals wine. Sun plus water plus kids playing equals pour a glass of wine.

Your brain hasn’t forgotten that equation. It doesn’t matter that you stopped drinking, the association is still there, wired in, waiting. When you walk out to the pool this summer, especially the first time, your hand is probably going to want to reach for a drink.

That’s the habit loop. And the good news is that habit loops can be rewired.

What to do instead

Before you head to the pool, make your drink. This is non-negotiable. Don’t arrive empty-handed. Make something cold and refreshing. Maybe it’s as simple as sparkling water with lemon. Or maybe it’s iced coffee with real cream. Whatever signals to your brain: I have what I need.

Find your transition from work to play. Home to pool. In past summers, alcohol marked that transition for you. This summer, it’s going to be something much better, something that doesn’t threaten everything you hold dear. So, change into your swimsuit. Put on a playlist. Make your drink. Head to the pool. Give your nervous system a moment to arrive.

Expect the first twenty minutes to feel off. You’re going to sit in that chair and feel the absence of the habit. It might feel like boredom. It might feel itchy. It might feel like restlessness. It might feel like you forgot something. You didn’t forget anything. Your brain is just looking for the cue it expects and not finding it. Wait it out. It passes. It always passes.

Be in the water. This is the one piece of advice I wish someone had given me. Get in the pool. Don’t sit in the chair and watch. Get in the water with your kids and let the cold of it shock you a little and let them splash you. Be in your body. Get your hair wet. GASP. You cannot be in the water and be in your head at the same time. The pool is not a place to manage your sobriety. It’s a place to be a mom on a Thursday in June.

Never trust a lifeguard. Here’s that thing no one talks about: we need to stop putting our kids’ lives in the hands of distracted and bored teenagers. Believe me. I was once a teenage lifeguard.

The thing that surprised me

On my first sober pool day, I kept waiting to feel deprived. I expected to sit next to the pool with my sparkling water and watch the afternoon drag on and count down the minutes.

That’s not what happened.

Instead, sometime around 2pm, when my kids had been in the water for almost two hours and the sun was warm and I was actually in the pool instead of watching from the edge, I looked around and thought: I am not missing anything.

And then I climbed out of the pool and onto the sun chaise and read my book while they continued to play and play.

The summer afternoon I’d been trying to enhance with wine for years was fine on its own. Better than fine. It was exactly what I’d always been chasing.

The afternoon ends

Everyone comes home pruned and hungry and happy and exhausted. And you’re tired in the best way. You’re reminded of your childhood, before alcohol came in and took over your brain and your body.

You won’t wake up in a shame spiral at 3am tonight.

You’ll remember the afternoon.

And you’ll want to do it all again tomorrow.

💛

—Suzanne

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