Enjoying Beer and Coffee Post Mormonism
The first beer I ever drank was in China. Growing up, beer (and coffee and tea) were off limits, because Mormonism and its unclear “word of wisdom” forbade, as the book likes to call it, hot drinks (where hot drinks later meant whatever we tell you not to drink). These rules get taken to some pretty ridiculous extremes, though, and I’ve seen grown adults make an embarrassing scene over being offered a harmless cup of tea. Alcoholic beverages, then, are about as sinful as premarital sex and skipping church for any other reason than to watch the Superbowl.
I thought I was being a daring little rebel when I tried a non-alcoholic beer back in high school. Since I didn’t like the taste, it only confirmed the stigma that people—bad people, no less—simply drank to get drunk. Even after resigning from the Mormon church (hey, this month marks my six-year anniversary!), it was difficult to get over a lot of the misgivings I had about alcohol (and coffee and tea and so many other things). While the rest of the world doesn’t bat an eye over their first cup of coffee, it was a pretty big step for me and is an event I remember vividly.
My first coffee was in China, too.
The hurdle ex-Mormons have to get over is the idea that beer and coffee are addictive and will turn you into an alcoholic or a liberal radio host, respectively. When I first started drinking (and by drinking, I mean very tepidly), I mostly did so as a social gesture amongst expat friends to avoid falling into old, prudish habits. Nevertheless, it was hard mingling with a crowd of people who drank and smoked and swore and had tattoos when 17 years of religious upbringing told me to stay clear of such sinners.
Before I moved into the Star primary school, the director of the training school gave me a huge case of Chinese beer. I tried one and thought it was disgusting, and so the remaining bottles sat in my fridge untouched for the rest of the year. Ten months later, as I was packing up to move out, I tried the beer again and actually liked it. Where did I go wrong? Or rather… where did I go right?! Somewhere in those ten months, I developed a real liking for German Erdinger beer thanks to a friend recommending it at a Western bar. And now I get cravings for it (or just beer in general) every once in a while.
Oh, no, I’ve become one of them…
In all fairness, the cravings I get for beer or wine or rum and Coke are comparable to (and not even as bad as) the cravings I get for other foods like pumpkin pie, chocolate chip cookies, cheese enchiladas, pepperoni pizza, mashed potatoes and gravy… man, why did I ever start this list… The point is, I was always taught that alcohol was reserved for only the lowliest of wife-beaters and college drop-outs. But that’s not who I am. Alcohol doesn’t bring out the “real me,” because, when recognizing and adhering to my own limits, it’s just another drink that I can finally enjoy without guilt.
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