“This is soda!!!!” a friend would hand me a questionable drink.

I would look at it quizzically, take a sip and laugh, “I know it’s not.”

No hard feelings at all. Because now…9 years older, I know that they want to make sure everyone is having a good time. Or even from a different perspective, they are uncertain if they can have a good time if not everyone is consuming something…alcoholic. It’s a sign of insecurity on their part. I have just reduced it to only I don’t like the taste. Although I can down kombucha, tonic water, tea…no problem.

What’s so funny is that…in early college, I interpreted it all as attacks on me—attacking my beliefs. Most likely, there was a pretty good chance of me naturally falling into the pattern of having a drink. Yet, it didn’t happen that way, because of all the peer pressure that I rebelled against—all because I thought that they were attacking me.

And it wasn’t it at all. But how about now—I embody so much headstrong-ness.