Sober living as a twenty-something-year-old

Have you ever done Dry January? I’ve done it three times now. This coming January is not only my fourth Dry January, but it’ll also be my 37th consecutive month without alcohol – I’ll have been sober for three whole years.

For those curious, I’m always open as to my rationale for not drinking and will honestly share my struggles with alcohol’s depressive effects – most people can relate to some degree. Of course, I’ve enjoyed the obvious benefits of a teetotal lifestyle to my health and my finances, but these are secondary to the changes in my mental wellbeing. Since I stopped drinking I’ve become the happiest and most confident I’ve been in all my life.

Before cutting out alcohol completely I’d tried short episodes of sobriety for weeks or months at a time to dampen the negative impact on my mood. I completely stopped nights of heavy drinking in my early twenties. A couple of years older and wiser, I experimented within modest levels of alcohol consumption – avoiding spirits, no more than three units in one sitting, not drinking on consecutive days… I reached a point where I had to admit cutting out alcohol altogether was the most beneficial and least stressful option for me. The pressure and apprehension of social events had become unbearable, and I struggled to decide if I’d have a couple of drinks or stick with sparkling water with increasing frequency, often opting to just stay at home instead.

While life is far sweeter on this side, teetotalism had its challenges, especially in the early days. I definitely experienced immediate relief, though I wasn’t immediately happier. I also ended up with a lot of extra time and energy that I didn’t know what to do with given that I never ever had a hangover anymore (something I totally take for granted now). The first six months were the most difficult and one of my biggest milestones at that point was a holiday abroad. After a few days relaxing in the sun of the Dalmatian coast, I started to think it would be rude not to sample the grappa in Croatia, right? Through stubborn perseverance, though I stayed away from the local pre-dinner spirit for the whole trip, and arriving home I was confident I could continue long term with sobriety.

At that point I hadn’t intended to stay off alcohol for this long, thinking maybe a year or 18 months would be enough time. I never anticipated that I could manage three whole years. Recently I’ve been reflecting on the positive impacts on my life, how it’s exceeded my expectations, and wondering when or if I will ever drink again. I still don’t have an answer.

Giving up alcohol no longer feels like a sacrifice because of what I’ve gained, my lifestyle has changed in many small but significant ways. In need of a social outlet outside of pubs and bars, I’ve become a much more active person and can regularly be found out gallivanting up the mountains or in the ocean. My social circle has grown to include people who know me only as a non-drinker, and older friends often remark on how much happier I am now. Overall, I feel more focused and engaged with the people I meet. And with the doggies I meet too.

In practical terms, sober life is pretty cheap and all that cash adds up from not buying any lager or G&Ts and rarely needing to pay the taxi fare. I even purchased a lovely hybrid car last year from my savings, a great investment for my aforementioned hiking and maritime adventures.

Recently I’ve been thinking it has been long enough now, and that maybe in the new year I could to enjoy an occasional glass of wine or bottle of beer. Unfortunately, when I seriously consider that prospect, it doesn’t take long for those familiar anxious feelings to return, and when deliberating how I’d feel re-introducing alcohol to my life I become incredibly stressed. It is upsetting to think that I’ve come so far and achieved so much, but yet the key issue has not gone away. So I’ll stick with sobriety for now, and for as long as I feel like it, be that another six months, or possibly another three years.

Being teetotal there can be occasions when you’d be a bit left out if you’re the only one not having a drink, and over time I’ve found ways of navigating these events in creative ways. For example, for family celebrations, I will insist on being served a champagne flute just like everybody else but filled with orange juice instead of Prosecco. If my friends are enjoying a round of shots I will be empty-handed of course but that’s ok – without my own little glass to clink, I can gently fist bump their tequilas as they toast. Outdoor concerts and festivals have often got top quality baristas on-site enabling me to enjoy lovely cappuccinos amongst my fellow revellers. This is not to mention that queues for coffee are inevitably far shorter than the queues for pints, and less queuing leaves me with more time for dancing.

I’ve experienced my confidence develop too. For naturally introverted people like myself, Dutch courage definitely comes in handy in social settings. Removing that crutch was a little scary but then I uncovered… my actual courage, which had been sitting there dormant the whole time. Always being sober I’ve got to tap into it that bit more and now meeting new people is grand, strangers can be really sound. Another thing I haven’t been able to do anymore is to wait until I get a little bit drunk before I hit the dance floor, and the activity of sober dancing is incredibly liberating.

Now January is here again and I won’t be drinking, not to detox my liver or save money, but to enjoy my life the way I deserve. For now I’m happy in the role of the Designated Driver for that simple reason – because I’m happy. Cheers to that.