in the end, it all comes down to choice.

there is an addictive streak in my family. my father, now in his 60s, has been smoking since he was in his teens. he's also spent way more money than i could ever imagine on pot (and who knows what else), and my mother is convinced that if she hadnt married him, he would have ended up drinking himself to death. my sister struggled for a while with binge drinking, and over eating. knowing this, i choose not to drink.

i turned 26 in august, and alone among my friends and family, i have never been drunk. i seem to have a fairly high alcohol tolerance, which has helped, im sure. while my friends were getting so smashed they forgot who they were from only one or two drinks (light weights, all of them), the only difference i noticed after 4-5 standard drinks (a mistake - someone bought me a different variant of what i usually drink and it was super strong) is that i was warmer than usual, and i wanted to lean on things. ive only done this once. so, ive been 'tipsy' but not properly drunk (though im sure if i blew into a stick i would have been over the limit). my friends keep insisting i should get drunk, just once, go on, just to see what its like, it wont hurt.

maybe theyre right. it might be fine. i might be fine. but i know theres an addictive streak in my family, and id rather not chance it. what if i liked it? what if i decided to do it again, and again, and again, and slowly it took more and more to get me there.. then i find myself having a drink every night. or 3. and then i cant stop. i choose not to. i choose to have a drink every few weeks if i want one (not now, obviously, because the alco-ma-hol, it is not good for growing sprogs), but not to go out of my way to have one. i choose to limit myself to 2 alcoholic drinks in any given night if i'm out, and often have less.

just in case.

we all have the ability to choose, and we all make choices every day. i chose to wear my boots today, even though i know my ankles/legs are a teensy bit swollen, and the heels make my feet not happy, because my other option was open toed slip ons, and its raining. i chose to wear a slip i knew would make me a bit too hot, rather than let the whole world know what colour undies im wearing because my skirt is a little thin. my son chose to muck about during breakfast time instead of drinking properly, and had his drink taken away. my husband chose to sleep in this morning rather than go for a jog in the rain (good choice, he kept me nice and warm when the cold snap hit).

one of the arguments people make about being gay is that its not a choice - theyre born that way. maybe, maybe not. im not a geneticist, and even they seem divided on the issue. it certainly seems possible - if someones genetic makeup can cause them to have absolutely no pigmentation, or to have some terrible incurable disease, i see no reason why it shouldnt affect their attractions. but even if same-sex attractions are part of their genetic makeup, they dont have to act on them.

my father is addicted to tobacco. so was my husband. my husband chose to quit. he finished the last cigarette in the pack, and stopped. it was hard, theres no denying that. he quit 3 times, and only succeeded the last time. some people need help to quit, some people dont. every day, he chooses not to start smoking again, and some days, its a very hard choice indeed. my father chooses not to quit. he has also tried a couple times, and now chooses to try no longer. every day he chooses to light a cigarette. its his choice, and he makes it. ignoring a same-sex attraction may be harder for some than others, and some may need help, if they choose to ignore it. some might find they fail, like my husband quitting smoking, and have to try again. some may find they fail, and like my father, choose to stop trying.

they say its not a choice, and maybe theyre right. but it is a choice to act on it, and that choice goes against God.