I Don't Drink
8 Lessons + Learnings from a sober (?) young woman in NYC
I don’t drink. That’s the phrase I use when faced with the inevitable question of why I’m not ordering a cocktail at a bar. However, if someone asks me if I’d like a drink, then I’ll say no thank you. I’m not an animal.
I’ve decided it would feel wrong to call myself “sober.” That would imply I work hard to overcome this personal challenge on a constant basis, and my relationship to alcohol is quite the opposite. It’s challenging for me to drink, actually.
Growing up, I never felt drawn to alcohol. Sure, it was “cool” (allegedly) to drink in high school and college and even just living in the city in those early post-grad years. But after quite a few nights of, shall I say, illness, I decided a few years ago to simply relieve myself of trying to fit in.
The aloof “I don’t drink” is for strangers or when I’m cosplaying as mysterious. But depending on who I’m talking to (read: how curious they appear to be), I’ll offer some more color: I think alcohol tastes bad. The sickness part happens before the drunk part, so I get all of the discomfort and none of the confidence. I have zero desire to drink.
I’ve been working on that phrasing for three years now. Sometimes it’s well received, sometimes not so much. Usually the latter is by a male suitor (lol) who’d rather me be a bit buzzed as, well, a social lubricant. You and me both, buddy.
In the spirit of Sober October, I thought it’d be fun to share some lessons I’ve learned from the past few years of voluntary prohibition.
Lesson 1: Nobody cares.
Initially, I was terrified of judgment. What would my friends think if I didn’t drink? What about a potential partner? Will they think I’m a loser? Wait. Stop. Nobody cares.
This is such a freeing reminder that whether or not you choose to drink, it literally does not matter. Sure, you might encounter 20 seconds of awkward dialogue with a new friend, a coworker, a potential partner, but ultimately, that’s it. Most well-meaning people stop caring very quickly. Which reminds me of one of my favorite facts: nobody is thinking about us as much as we think about ourselves. That’s a good thing.
Lesson 2: If it does matter, that’s not your problem.
If someone makes a fuss about your lack of alcohol consumption, that actually has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with them. I know that sounds like a boring modern platitude — “that’s a them problem” — but it’s true. That’s a them problem. I’ve had a date or two who’ve been offended, “slightly confused” as they said, that I agreed to go out on a drinks date when I don’t drink. But just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean I’m not entitled to my fair share of swanky hotel lobbies and fancy glassware! This leads me to my next lesson…
Lesson 3: Drinkers will assume you’re judging them.
But they should really refer to Lesson 1: nobody cares. It’s all good with me if people decide to have a spritz on a sunny afternoon or a glass bottle of wine with dinner or 4-5 shots at the bar for their bestie’s birthday. I do not care. In fact, I love it. I want people to partake in activities that bring them joy, with the caveat “as long as it’s not hurting anyone.”
Plus, the more drunk people there are, the more entertainment I have, and for that, I’m eternally grateful.
Now onto some tips. Again, may I remind you that I’m just “some girl.” I’m not sober and I’m not an expert in social dynamics. However, I do have lived experience.
Tip 1: “Drinks” is the title of an activity that you don’t have to avoid even if you don’t drink alcohol.
A lot of people think that because I don’t drink, then I don’t like bars. Or to my earlier point, that it’s weird for me to attend “drinks” with friends or a potential partner. That’s not true, Ellen. I don’t not like bars. I don’t not like restaurants either. What I do like is an ambiance, okay? I’d venture to say that most people would agree. It’s not fun to feel like the odd person out, or that you can’t partake in an evening of good company with mood lighting and swanky booth seating. And if you think it’s weird that I’m attending your “drinks” activity, maybe suggest something else that you actually want to do, regardless of the company who attends, you weirdo.
Tip 2: When You Go to Aforementioned “Drinks” You Don’t Have to Avoid That Section of the Menu.
Look, I’m not going to judge you if you’re a seltzer and lime kinda gal. However, if you’re going out to a cocktail bar and the purpose of the activity is to imbibe a fun beverage, it’s sort of a dick move to order something that costs $3. Plus, mixologists, as insufferable as they may be, are artists at work. As the kids say, let them cook!
I’m privileged to live in NYC, a city where more often than not there’s some sort of “sans-spirits” section on a menu. However, that section tends to suck. Unless they have Ghia, in which case, you know what my order is.
I recommend using this line with the mixologist: “what can you do for a non-drinker like me?” They love that shit, and your date will probably think it’s funny too. Nine times out of 10, they’ll have fun creating something exquisite within the confines of your request. In the 10% chance they look at you like you like an alien, simply order one of the cocktails and ask for it without alcohol. You’ll likely arrive at the same result either way.
Tip 3: Drink something.
To my previous point, you do need to drink something. Obviously I’m not talking about alcohol — that would invalidate this entire thing. What I mean is that you should have something in your hand, and something to consume that’s fun for you. It feels so painfully awkward to be empty-handed. And inevitably someone will ask you if you want a drink, instigating the response “haha I don’t drink” and the cycle of painful awkwardness continues. If it’s a house party, a water bottle will do it. If it’s an activity centered around drinks (a catch up, a date) see Tip 2. If it’s a party at a bar, freestyle. A soda is fun here. So is a Shirley Temple.
You’ll become resentful if you don’t.
Tip 4: Don’t preach.
It’s not in my nature to proselytize the non-drinking lifestyle — or any lifestyle for that matter — to my peers. I’m a big proponent of the “you do you” philosophy. But I know some people love to share their newfound enlightenment with others, and I know it’s well-meaning, so if that is you, be conscious of how your words land with others. Nobody likes a holier-than-thou Buddha-esque friend, in the same way that everyone wishes the guy at the party who’s constantly exclaiming “let’s get black ooooout” would just shut up.
Tip 5: If you don’t want to drink now, that doesn’t mean you can’t in the future.*
Look, I love black and white thinking. I tend to crumble without rules and structure and certainty (yes, I’m a freelancer, what of it). But in this case, it’s important to allow yourself the "never say never” clause. You don’t have to decide that your 75-year-old self will not be having a glass of wine in this very moment.
It goes back to the reason why I settled on the “I don’t drink” explanation. It only accounts for actions happening in the present moment, without need to decide on the future. This is so the dude abides of me, but truly, live in the now.
I could talk about this for hours, but it’s a lot less fun when I’m the only one in the conversation. So I open the floor to you — do you want to drink less? More? Do any of these experiences resonate? Anything you want expanded on? We can make this a dialogue.
Reply to this email or leave a comment if you want to reach me. :)
*Again, this completely excludes addicts and people who’ve worked hard at their sobriety.
This is SO GOOD I stopped drinking after college so it’s been about 4 years now and I’m in a few circles (my workplace, specifically lol) where drinking is THE activity and you summed it all up so so well. Shirley temple girls unite!!!!
I live in the UK and here pubs are part of the culture. There's always more booze than actual food at parties and I hate that. I am italian and I enjoy drinking with food and drinking well. I want to drink for the pleasure of drinking something flavourful not whatever to just blackout. It was one of the many cultural shock when I first moved here, and when I was younger I ended up not being invited to "drinks" because I couldn't "take the edge off" with just some beers. Absurd!
But also this brings to the picture how much drinking is normalised and how much its usage impacts the culture of a country!
P.s. I love your writing Katie, thank you so much for being this cool