My first sober wedding — a few weeks later, in November — was a black-tie affair in New York City. As I entered the hotel alone, I felt like a baby deer learning how to walk. I was genuinely looking forward to celebrating the bride and groom, but my sobriety felt like a shameful secret. At cocktail hour, I filled my hands with food; heaping plates of cheese and passed appetizers, anything to give me an excuse to apologetically shake my head when a server appeared at my elbow with a tray of Champagne glasses.

When the doors to dinner opened, I went straight to the bar purely out of habit. I had noticed that most of the drinks at cocktail hour were being served in tumblers, while a noticeably pregnant woman was sipping on a club soda out of a taller glass. “Club soda in a tumbler glass with lime, please.” The thought of anyone asking me why I wasn’t drinking was unfathomable. Faking I was drinking was better than risking someone asking me why I wasn’t.

A few months later, in January 2018, I flew to wedding No. 2. It was a destination wedding in Puerto Rico, where two college friends would exchange vows on the beach. This time, I decided to try a new approach to sober weddings: being the very best guest in attendance. I listened carefully to the vows, took my seat at the appropriate time for dinner, and laughed at the right moments during speeches. I danced with the bride, ate wedding cake and spontaneously jumped in the pool with other guests at the end of the night. As I drifted to sleep with damp hair and a full stomach, I felt proud of myself. I had been a fun wedding guest, even without alcohol, and surely that had to count for something.

The next morning, the bride confessed that she drank too many glasses of Champagne and her memory of the end of the night was a blur. She didn’t remember much from the dance floor, the cake, or the late-night swim. I was disappointed. I had been so focused on being a “good” wedding guest, but did it matter if the bride didn’t remember it? And was the point of weddings actually to please the bride and groom? I was unconvinced.Wedding No. 3 was another black-tie celebration in New York City. I was six months sober, wore a silver dress, and caffeinated beforehand to help me stay awake through the after-party. I watched the ceremony and felt genuinely happy for one of my closest friends. I also felt very single. After the ceremony ended, I ran into a friend of the groom with whom I had gone on an uneventful first date months earlier. We’ll call him Jake. I exchanged polite pleasantries with Jake before continuing into the cocktail hour.