Does the phase “Enjoli lady” mean anything to you? If so, you can head straight on over to Medium to read my new essay about women and booze. If the Enjoli lady doesn’t ring a bell, watch this, imagine growing up with it embedded in your freaking brain, and then go read the essay.
I said the above to a friend at lunch today. He’s not someone I know super well, but our paths have crossed here and there over the years and I’ve always found him to be an unusually (for the alpha-male tech company I work for) thoughtful and kind person. His wife died quite suddenly in her early 50s in January and this was the first conversation we’d had since. We talked about her (of course), and about him and his initial thoughts of moving halfway across the world to get away from reminders of her and eventual decision to stay put, at least for now. And when it came time for me to give my own update, it felt very natural and safe to say that I was coming up on 10 months of sobriety–I somehow knew he would take it in stride with a calm curiosity, which he did. “One of my oldest friends quit drinking about a year and a half ago,” he said, “and he told me it’s fixed things in his life that he had no idea were broken.” That’s exactly what it’s been like for me, I told him. Exactly like that.