The pressure to drink as a young adult is heavy. As a teenage girl growing up in America where image can be more important than eating, I struggled with climbing up the mountain of acceptance from my peers. As I grew up, I remember trying to convince others that I made my own decisions. I had believed that no person influenced my thoughts or actions, however my childish perception came to an end with a couple sips of alcohol.
Drinking alcohol frequents many events in my small town, Medical Lake. It was after school at my friend’s house during Christmas vacation. Intent on celebrating the holidays, I took my first sips of coke and Barcardi 151and tried to mask my face of disgust. Struggling with the burning sensation in my throat, my eyes watered and a cough eased its way to the surface. I felt a warm tingling in my stomach that traveled down to my legs, each sip increasing my high. It wasn’t long before the tingle that had once occupied my legs traveled to my lips. Words tumbled and slurred out of my mouth accompanied with giggles as my friends and I enjoyed our inebriated state of mind. As the night ended I tried sobering up before sneaking into my house. Avoiding my parents, I reached my room, collapsed on my bed and drifted off into a state of deep sleep.
The next morning, I peered into my closet looking for a sweater. Thoughts circled my brain with excuses for ditching out on plans with friends during Christmas vacation. I’m not even sure if I should mention the tomato red rash that has consumed my whole body. If I did mention it what would I say? After an awkward confession, even my parents looked at me bewildered as I told them my symptoms. Everyone would deem me as disgusting and lame. If my friends find out that I can’t drink alcohol, I will surely be shunned.
I have never felt more uncomfortable as I had the day I discovered my secret. I wandered the halls engulfed from head to toe in clothing, desperately avoiding classmates. Terrified they...