I have a weird relationship with alcohol.
Yet somehow, I keep coming back. And every time, the differences between a life with and without it hit me even harder. Some months, I go without it. Other months, I don’t. Each time, I’m reminded how much it shapes everything: from my mood to my social life.
One of the biggest surprises of not drinking was realizing how much social anxiety I have. And I’m a pretty social person. Back in 2022, after COVID pushed me into remote work, I noticed something: my only social life outside work usually involved drinks at a bar. Unlike school or office life, home meant being clear-headed; out meant being drunk.
That wasn’t sustainable, especially for someone like me, a natural binge drinker who could black out and make a complete fool of herself without even trying. Most people only saw me in that state, and it was exhausting to realize that my clear-headed self had disappeared from view.
At the same time, being out without a drink felt strange, especially in Boston, where friends who don’t drink are basically a myth. Still, I started making a mental note of wanting to change and I attempted to cut back, which mostly just reminded me how much I liked drinking.
Then came 2025, my year of experimentation. I stopped drinking for four months scattered across the year. The lessons were notable, but the biggest one? Everyone is a little awkward without alcohol. Being a party girl isn’t quite as cool in your 30s, and it wasn’t just me who was more mellow – it was everyone. Listening to conversations, I kept hearing: “I’m taking it easy tonight” or “I’ll come but don’t expect me to stay long.” Then it clicked: we’re all relying on this magical poison for a little borrowed confidence.
That realization motivated me. I started seeing sobriety as a muscle I hadn’t used in years. And it wasn’t lame at all. People actually praised me for going out without drinking. “You did that sober?” people asked in awe. “I don’t know how you stay out late without a drink.” My mind started to shift. Maybe I actually am fun.
Sober stretches of life have taught me what it really means to know myself – the good, the bad, the ugly. Some days, I feel on top of the world. Others, I think a drink or two might make things better. Dating without alcohol feels like a curse, but I’m trying. Taking this leap has given me more confidence than not trying ever did, even if I’m anxious, sweating, and acting like a total idiot without booze as a crutch (yes, I may or may not be referencing a date a few weeks ago).
Knowledge is power. If you’re doing Dry January, don’t just lock yourself in and call it a day. Challenge yourself. Try things you wouldn’t normally do without a drink. You might be surprised by what you like, what you don’t, and what your clear-headed self notices about friends, bars, or even your own personality. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll realize that having fun doesn’t actually need a drink.
Haley Lyndes is a shopping writer and editor with more than seven years of experience in the publishing space. Specializing in home and lifestyle, she covers everything from furniture and mattresses to beauty products and fitness gear. Her writing has appeared in BuzzFeed, Travel + Leisure, and Real Simple.
