my hedonistic tendencies

i've never known how to just enjoy a slice

“what is on your mind?” substack asks me.

hedonism. pleasure. trust. self indulgence.

i have learned that i am a guilty person. i live my life feeling guilty for absolutely anything and everything.

alcohol used to be viewed as bad, as extra calories, as something that needs to be compensated for. it was always something that was always consumed in extremes and always led to self-disgust. like how you could have the most beautiful, gorgeous homemade birthday cake and savoring one proper slice of it feels joyful. but eating half of it in secrecy hunched over the kitchen counter at night, and overindulging yourself, and anticipating the self-hatred, all just completely ruins the initial sentiment of the lovely cake. i didn’t know how to just enjoy a slice.

there are few things i love more than being buzzed off of wine alone in my bedroom. maybe that sounds bad. maybe that could be a warning sign of inheriting alcoholic traits. but in my defense, could i really be an alcoholic if i catch a buzz off of half of a glass of wine? yes, maybe it is 4 pm and i have nothing important to get done on a rainy afternoon and drinking wine just feels like a pleasant introduction to the evening.

i truly enjoy drinking, honestly. but my version of drinking is as shown above. my new ritual is coming home from the grocery store with a different cheap bottle of wine to try every week, and that bottle will last me some days. no i do not want to go out until 3 am. no i don’t really enjoy the bars downtown or the music or the crowds. no i can’t drink more than 3 drinks without getting too tired and jaded and wanting to go home. but yes i want to drink at home. is that bad? i don’t know. its like i am 24 and suddenly i remember i can buy alcohol at the grocery store to just casually have at home. for no special occasion, just myself. and that is more exciting to me at this phase in my life than going out to bars and ordering shots.

i try to explain to my boyfriend how me, being a young woman, coming home and wanting to pour a glass of wine on a tuesday for no real reason other than i deserve it, it is so different than just drinking alone. how do i explain that drinking wine alone as a female is a ritual, it’s a luxury. i sit here with my vintage ceramic mug of white wine and my hair up and i type away on my computer in my bedroom with my candles lit. but a man just wouldn’t get it! it is not the same as a boy drinking a lukewarm can of coors light on the couch alone at home. in fact it is worlds apart. and i can’t quite explain why.

so initially i always felt guilty leaving the grocery store with a wine bottle in my tote bag. i don’t need this, there’s no special occasion, it’s unnecessary to spend money on this. at first, having a glass of wine at home alone almost gave me a rush, like i was doing something bad. it felt too indulgent. now, being able to have a glass of wine with dinner is an accomplishment to me. drinking wine in the bath and not having to skip dessert to have it is an accomplishment to me. saying yes to spontaneous plans at the wine bar even after eating dinner, with no time to prepare and restrict and eat less beforehand like i used to, is an accomplishment to me.

so yes maybe i will drink a glass of wine at 4 pm on this rainy wednesday. and maybe i will use it to fill the time before going to the local wine bar this evening alone for a drawing night. but i need to stop feeling so damn bad for doing it. or more so, for enjoying it.