I first met her when she was 13.
At the workshop, when I asked what was most commonly used at her age, she replied
without hesitation: alcohol, vapes, joints. She knew it all. Like almost all of them.
What she didn’t know — or didn’t want to think about — was that none of it was
permitted for minors. Nor did she realise that, in alcohol and tobacco use, girls were
already matching and even surpassing boys.
She didn’t drink “to get drunk”. She drank so as not to feel odd. To fit in. Not to be left
out. On social media, it seemed that all the others were prettier, more confident, happier.
A few drinks helped that insecurity hurt a little less.
I saw her again when she was 32.
Work, children, responsibilities. Always proper. Always dependable.
She no longer drank to fit in. She drank to cope with everything.
In women, dependence can progress more quickly than we imagine. And it often does
not come alone: anxiety, persistent low mood, a constant feeling of not being enough.
But asking for help was not an option. “What would they think if they knew I can’t cope
with my own life?” she told me. The fear of being judged a bad mother weighed more
heavily than the distress itself.
At 61, she was still the same woman.
Widowed. The children living far away. Long nights. The doctor had prescribed
something to help her sleep. Then something for anxiety. All legal. All controlled…
apparently.
There were no longer parties or social pressure. There was silence. And tablets.
At this stage of life, the body tolerates any substance more poorly. Yet hardly anyone
asks. Being a woman, older, and struggling with addiction is a combination that often
goes unnoticed.
In specialist clinics, we treat women. But far fewer than should be coming through our
doors. Not because they are not suffering. But because they remain silent.
Sometimes addiction makes no noise.
It does not break rules in a scandalous way.
It does not fit the classic image many parents carry in their minds.
Sometimes it begins at 13, trying to fit in.
At 30, it disguises itself as strength.
And at 60, it hides in a pill organiser.
And always, at every stage, she is still the same woman.
In the next article, we’ll discuss:
The big lie in the therapy room: “DID YOU UNDERSTAND?”