Alcohol was the first guest at every party I threw
For years, alcohol was the first guest at every party I threw. This summer I hosted a barbecue without it, and I met parts of myself that drinking used to keep quiet. Here is what happened, and the conversation cards that came out of it: 400 questions to help people connect more deeply.
I love my friends, and for as long as I can remember I’ve loved bringing them together. Hosting has always felt like a way of inviting joy, belonging and connection. Around the time I started hosting, I also started drinking, and alcohol made everything easier: easier to talk, to relax, to be honest, to be close, to be brave. That pattern followed me for years, from organising nightclub parties in Asia in my twenties to summers in the south of France with friends and plenty of drinks.
In my thirties, things shifted. My body found the hangovers harder. Through Nonviolent Communication, conscious practices and dance, I discovered I could find ease, joy and closeness without alcohol. And I noticed that the ease alcohol brought rarely led to lasting depth. The more I experienced other ways of socialising, the more I thought: maybe I don’t need as much alcohol as I believed in order to enjoy myself.
So back in London, I wanted to host a barbecue in our garden. I wanted my friends to meet, to have an enjoyable time, and to connect in a meaningful way, without the hangover and the mess that come with alcohol.
Meeting the needs another way
I believe alcohol can meet real needs. For me those needs are ease, relaxation, effortlessness, confidence, and from there an access to movement, dancing, connection and many others. If I wasn’t using alcohol to meet them, how else could I?
One thing I know brings me connection is an intention to connect, and something that supports it. For me, great questions and prompts really help. I love asking questions, and being asked ones that are out of the box.
When we meet people, we often go into small talk: how are you, what do you do, where do you live. That’s a fine way to ease into someone’s presence. But many of us have little practice with questions that help a connection go deeper.
So I made 20 pages of questions, each page different. And because some people love depth and some prefer to stay in lighter layers, depending on where they are in their life that day, each page had four levels: Paddle, Wade, Swim, Dive. When two people met, they could ask: “Do you want to paddle, wade, swim or dive?” and be met exactly where they wanted to be.
Here’s a taste, one from each level:
- Paddle: Are you a phone caller or a texter?
- Wade: What is a smell or sound that takes you straight back?
- Swim: What is something you would love to be asked about but rarely are?
- Dive: What are you afraid of in closeness?
In the group chat, I shared my preference for no alcohol, and for phones to stay in a specific room in the house. I invited everyone to bring something to eat.
What I didn’t see coming
On the day, I was stressed. The print shop was closed and I ran between shops to find one open. People were cancelling or running late. I was worried about the house, the food, who was bringing what. And I asked myself: why am I so stressed?
Then I realised: in the past, I’d start drinking well before anyone arrived. I had always thought of myself as a relaxed host. Without the alcohol, parts of me showed up that drinking used to quiet: anxiety, panic, defensiveness. I saw how much I had used alcohol to mellow me down.
Guests arrived. I was still tense, but happy to see them, and grateful for my friend Aron taking care of the barbecue. Some people loved the questions and started straight away. Others put the page down without looking, and I noticed little grudges in me for people not playing my game.
Then I saw my friend Jason looking at his phone. My nervous system, already in flight, went into fight. “Oh, you’re on your phone. I’m a bit annoyed about it. I wish you didn’t have it.” He looked a little surprised and started to explain why he had his phone there, but I was already walking off.
I had written it as a request. Inside me, it lived as a demand. A request means I can hear a no. Clearly, I couldn’t.
Being heard
A bit later Aron came to ask how I was. I said: thank you for asking. I’m quite stressed, I’m tense, and I’m annoyed about people having their phones. He offered advice, something like “it’s okay, people can have their phones, you can just relax and enjoy the moment.”
Here’s something about me: when I’m in panic, unsolicited advice sends me straight back into fight. What I long for in those moments is to be heard, so I can come back to my centre and make choices that are mine. So I asked him: “Are you giving me unsolicited advice?” He smiled, paused and said, “Oh, yes. I imagine that’s maybe not what you want.” I said, “That’s not what I fucking want.” And he said, “Thank you for telling me. I can imagine that’s not supportive for you in this moment.”
Just that was deeply supportive. Someone willing to be with me in the way that works for me. Something shifted.
With a bit more space in me, I went to find Jason, who was inside the house. I checked in with him about how I’d spoken. He told me he was comfortable, and that he understood where I was. A small repair, and a lot of ease.
When another friend opened an alcoholic beer, it turned out he hadn’t read the message. I felt the annoyance rise, and then I heard myself say, inside my head: “Ollie, nobody is going to die here.” I handed him a glass and moved on.
Easing into it
Then someone asked for dancing music, and moving my body helped me switch into feeling relaxed. I wish I had done that from the start. I looked around, and many people were using the pages with the questions I had printed. Smiling, looking touched, going deep. My flatmate Haneen led some playful acting games that brought a sweet closeness to the group.
We closed the evening with my partner and two friends, still asking each other questions from those pages. And in the days after, so many friends reached out to tell me how much depth and joy the questions had brought them, and how quickly they had connected, even with people they barely knew.
What I’m taking from this
It took me a while to ease into my own party. I panicked, I snapped, I held grudges. The people I know who do a lot of self development still get triggered. So do I. What made the difference was noticing it, asking to be heard, and going back to the people I’d been short with.
And despite all my worries, the strategy worked. Needs I used to meet with alcohol, connection, closeness, joy, movement, honesty, were met, and more. Without the hangover. With memories I actually kept.
Take the conversation cards home
I’d love these questions to travel beyond my garden. All 20 pages, 400 questions at four depths, are yours for free. Print them for your next dinner, barbecue or long walk with a friend, give everyone a different page, and start with: “Do you want to paddle, wade, swim or dive?”
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If you get a chance to use them, I’d love to hear how it went for you.
If you’re in the middle of a conflict
If there’s a conflict in your life at the moment, with a partner, a friend, a family member or a colleague, and you’d love support to find your way through it, I offer one-to-one conflict support sessions. Together we can slow things down, get clear on what’s alive in you, and find a way towards repair that feels honest. Get in touch to book a session.
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