Quit Like a Woman: The Radical Choice to Not Drink in a Culture Obsessed with Alcohol

Whitaker feels that the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous, with their focus on humility, apologizing, and ego-control, were not the right approach for her because she already felt ashamed, self-hating, and apologetic. She believes that many women already internalize feelings of inadequacy, making the AA approach destructive or inappropriate for their recovery. While Whitaker attended some meetings at the beginning of her sobriety, she found that the culture of AA made her feel worse about herself, threatening her decision not to drink.

AA was founded in the 1930s by Bill Wilson and Bob Smith. Wilson struggled with alcohol use disorder, and Smith was a doctor. The two men were both white, upper-class, evangelical Christians who infused their anti-drinking program with religious content. In particular, they instructed alcoholics that their problems originated from their own arrogance, and that only by humbling themselves and submitting to God could they overcome their addiction. 

Whitaker critiques the early AA curriculum’s assumption that all attendees were men, and she points out women’s exclusion from the group. She asserts that women do not drink due to ego or entitlement and argues that patriarchy has prevented women from becoming overconfident. With its sexist roots and intense religiosity, Whitaker feels that AA is not the right fit for most women and that, in her experience, it felt “oppressive.” While the original instructions to humble oneself may have been appropriate in the 1930s for middle- and upper-class American white men, who had more rights and privileges than other Americans, Whitaker argues that this philosophy is counterproductive to women and marginalized people.

Whitaker’s refusal to return to AA drew criticism from some people, who told her that she was operating from her ego. She credits author Carol Lee Flinders with helping her understand why the religious philosophy behind AA was not right for her. Like many spiritual traditions, AA asks followers to transcend themselves through self-silencing, egoic destruction, resisting temptations, and separating from the world. Whitaker agrees with Flinders that women have not had the same agency and voice as men, and therefore denying themselves these things is not relevant to their recovery. Whitaker explains that by following Flinder’s advice and becoming more in tune with her own personal voice and desires, she successfully recovered from addiction. She concludes her chapter by warning the reader against believing AA’s narrative that addicts are “egocentric selfish liars” (106).

Whitaker’s parents, teachers, and peers often criticized her energy, willfulness, and appearance, and over time, she grew to dislike herself because of it. In hindsight, she feels that she pursued alcohol, drugs, shopping, and sexual relationships to soothe her feelings of self-hatred. Rather than shaming herself, Whitaker showed herself compassion, which she feels helped her rebuild a healthy, confident sense of self.

The author believes that masculine “energy” is more task-oriented and hierarchical, while feminine “energy” is more “relational” and “flowing” (110). Whitaker feels that reclaiming her feminine side supported her recovery as she stopped living “in denial of [her] nature” and validated parts of herself that had been “forever repressed” (111-112).

Whitaker reflects on the many pieces of her recovery puzzle: Allen Carr’s book The Easy Way to Control Alcohol, spiritual teacher Gabby Bernstein, Kundalini yoga, Eckhart Tolle, and functional medicine. In founding her Tempest Sobriety School, Whitaker needed to channel her new knowledge into a set curriculum. She used John Dupuy’s Integral Recovery and its concept of the Integral Map to do this. This map addresses four quadrants: the “I,” or internal processes like spirituality and psychology; the “we,” such as community and relationships; the “it” or physical body; and the “Its” or environment. Whitaker believes this map addresses all the core aspects of life that people need to consider on their recovery journey.

The author explains the six elements of a feminine-centric recovery: work with core beliefs, weaken the cycle of addiction, create good coping mechanisms, address the root causes of addiction, practice sobriety, and allow your recovery program to evolve. At Tempest Sobriety, the coaches expect their students to practice sobriety like it is a new skill, rather than expecting them to successfully abstain from alcohol immediately. This intimidating ideal often creates more shame and stress when people give in to temptation and drink. Learning to abstain from alcohol is the first part of her program, and Whitaker reveals that the rest of her work will address the second part: living sober.

Whitaker discusses the inherent tension between staying humble and maintaining a healthy sense of confidence. She cites Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön (When Things Fall Apart, The Places That Scare You), who says that people must learn how to embrace this inherent paradox and feel worthy and “big” while also feeling “small” and dedicated to service. Whitaker encourages people to pursue feeling “big” in her core beliefs of recovery: Self-Advocacy, Self-Trust, and Self-Practice.

To learn to advocate for oneself, the author recommends learning to “mother” oneself by being attentive to one’s own needs before other people’s. Next, she instructs the reader to develop their agency by believing in their power to manage their own decisions. She encourages the reader not to feel guilty for putting themselves first, rather than feeling resentful of other people.

The author tells readers to set healthy boundaries and learn to say no, cultivate their own power, and trust themselves. For Whitaker, this includes trusting one’s “gut sense” about what is right or wrong. She asks the reader to list the triggers that have hurt them in the past; for example, hers are online dating, diets, drugs, alcohol, and more. Whitaker does not deny herself all pleasurable things—she enjoys treat foods, movies, and coffee—but she knows that these pastimes don’t trigger addictive or self-harming behaviors for her. Her yoga practice taught Whitaker that discomfort can be a positive cue that real mental and physical work has begun.

Lastly, the author advocates for “Self-Practice.” This means “claiming” oneself by being willing to change, surrender one’s pride, and ask for help. Whitaker reminds the reader that abstaining from drinking isn’t deprivation but an opportunity to be healthier. She encourages focus on the commitment rather than the concept of perfect discipline. Whitaker focuses on the positives of sobriety, calling it an “upgrade” rather than a “consequence.” She urges the reader to consider their journey to sobriety as their “great adventure” and an opportunity to reinvent themselves.