Let’s think about the idea of acquiring a taste for something. Whatever your drink of choice is, you probably didn’t like it immediately. But your body allowed you to get used to it. Why? Because your brain assumes you have no choice in the matter. If you did, it would make no sense for you to keep drinking. So your body does the logical thing—it makes it easier for you to deal with the taste. You acquire it. Which, if you think about it, is the same thing as becoming immune to alcohol.
Let’s look at it another way: My brother has a goat farm, and whenever I walk into the barn, there’s an intense, unpleasant odor. As my sister-in-law says, it smells “very goaty.” But guess what? My brother and his family don’t even notice the smell anymore. Because they’ve gotten used to it. They have to go into the barn to feed the goats, so their brains no longer register the odor. That doesn’t mean they like it. But they have, over time, gotten used to it.
If you did happen to love the taste of your first drink, it was probably something fruity or creamy that was more sugar than anything else. Am I right? Some drinks go down more easily than others. Straight alcohol is ethanol. The same stuff you put in your gas tank! A few sips will make you vomit and a few ounces of pure ethanol will kill you. I think it’s safe to say you would never go suck on the end of a gas pump nozzle because it tastes good! No matter what your favorite drink is, the alcohol makes up only a small percentage of the liquid. The rest is flavorings, sugar, carbohydrates, and other additives.
Now of course there are things we appreciate as adults that we did not appreciate as children. We clearly grow a more refined palate as we age, but let’s not kid ourselves: If we were purely drinking for the taste, we could certainly find other substitutes that are similar and wouldn’t cause any of the side effects alcohol causes. I am intolerant to gluten and I’ve managed to find plenty of substitutes that aren’t exactly the same but are now a natural part of my life and don’t create the stomach pain gluten does. The fact is ethanol doesn’t taste good. Consider this: When scientists want rats or mice to drink alcohol for a study, they have to force-feed them because they will not naturally opt to drink it.
So are you honestly drinking it for the taste?
If not, then why are you drinking it?
You’ve almost certainly observed characters in the movies and on TV enjoying the taste of alcohol, or giving a satisfying burp and a smile after chugging a beer. Even if the actors are actually drinking whiskey-colored tea, the message still gets across—it tastes good. We all tend to choose our alcohol to match our identities. If we’re refined and classy, maybe we drink red wine. Or if we like old cowboy movies, maybe we lean toward whiskey. Of course, if you’re an international spy, you’ve got to order a martini—shaken, not stirred. We identify with the characters and tend to like the same drinks they like. I used to love chugging Guinness and was so proud of my chugging ability. It made me feel tough and like “one of the boys” in that masculine work environment.
Maybe you see yourself as a discerning wine lover, and your cellar has become a status symbol. If that’s the case, you probably pride yourself on your ability to discern the toasty-smoky-oaky flavors with their fruity or floral overtones. Or whatever. Here’s a fun fact—the American Association of Wine Economists conducted a study of more than 6,000 wine drinkers. In this blind taste test, they discovered that people cannot tell the difference between cheap wine and expensive wine. In fact, most people preferred the taste of the cheaper varieties. And you know what else? The same blind research later found that people can’t tell the difference between pâté and dog food!
So what about the argument, “alcohol enhances the taste of my food”? Do we say that about any other beverage-and-food combination? People say milk enhances the taste of cookies, but could that be because we physically dip cookies into milk? No one dips their steak into their wineglass. The truth is, alcohol is actually an anesthetic. It numbs our ability to taste, making it more difficult to savor our food.
Imagine we could remove all the physical and emotional effects of alcohol. If it couldn’t actually make you drunk, would people still drink it? There’s a body of pretty convincing research suggesting they wouldn’t. It tastes bad. It’s poisonous. Drinking for the taste is a convenient, innocent excuse. At the end of the day, is it a possibility that there’s something more going on with your drinking than just the taste? Humans are incredibly adept at lying to themselves and believing their own stories. It’s possible that you actually do love the taste of a cool, frosty margarita. But is it really the alcohol you like? You may not have tried a delicious virgin margarita, but the truth is, they taste as good, maybe even better! And you’ll be surprised and empowered by how much you enjoy yourself without the tequila—or the hangover.
This may be the most important part of the ACT Technique. Here you want to dig into the turnaround, or the opposite of the belief. You’ll want to take the time to come up with as many ways as you can (at least three) that the turnaround is as true or truer than the original belief. In this case, the opposite of “I drink for the taste” is “I don’t drink for the taste” or maybe even “I don’t like the taste.” Now it’s your turn to come up with as many ways as you can that the turnaround is true in your life.
It’s Not What You Give Up, But What You GAIN
One reason people resist change is because they focus on what they have to give up, instead of what they have to gain.
—RICK GODWIN
As a participant in this experiment, you’re obviously giving something up. You’re giving up alcohol for 30 days. But there are two ways to look at it. You could focus on how hard it’s going to be and all the things you’re going to have to give up and go without. Or you could think about all the amazing insights and experiences you’re going to gain as a result of the experiment.
We all undoubtedly control our destinies through our expectations. In other words, we get what we expect. If we expect this experiment to be miserable, then that is what we’re going to get. And so to make this a more pleasant experience, we have to change our thinking. We have to expect to go into this and experience 30 days of amazing epiphanies, better health, higher energy levels, and systematic shifts in our thinking. How do we do it? We decide to focus on the positive. It’s that simple. You might feel weird at first focusing on all the good things that are going to happen, especially if you’re skeptical that they will happen. But when you shift your thinking to what you will gain, the good things will come. They truly will.
For me, I lost 13 pounds in the first 30 days. My marriage has never been better, and I’ve finally started doing all the things I’d wanted to do for years and years. Things alcohol kept me from doing, such as starting a business, writing a book, creating a mindfulness practice, and building a strong family life. I’ve become much happier socially because I’m never worried about what I said the night before. I’ve become much more successful. I think I look significantly better—my eyes are clearer, my hair is thicker. But these are my stories. What about other people who’ve gone through the 30-day experiment? What have they gained? Here’s a short list from other Alcohol Experiment participants:
• Clearheaded mornings
• Better health
• Less anxiety