I can’t remember my first sip of alcohol, but I remember it being a main character in college. I was the uptight valedictorian of my high-school class who panicked at the thought of getting a B, and somehow dunking a red Solo cup into a jumbo cooler filled with mysterious “jungle juice” in a frat-house basement was what got me, finally, to chill out. Booze helped me shed my shyness and play the role of an extrovert who could wow a roomful of strangers.
I’m far from the only person who’s downed a drink to soften their nerves — many studies explore the association between anxiety and alcohol use — but who can blame us when (1) it’s everywhere and (2) it’s encouraged, even expected?
I started to question these expectations in early 2022, a few months before turning 30. I wanted to enter this fresh decade as the best version of myself, and when I compared the person I wanted to be with the person I actually was, I realized how much drinking held me back. For example, Drunk Deeps had a bad habit of drunk texting people she knew she shouldn’t, because she felt starved for validation. Then she’d wake up the next morning and beat herself up for being hungry for connection. That shame, plus the physical hangover, made it impossible to get out of bed or even eat some days. My body was in survival mode; extracurriculars like working out or reading a book or learning a new skill or enjoying a hobby or just going outside to feel the sun on my face felt out of the question.
I began to ask myself, who could I become without alcohol? And so began my sober-curious summer — an existential crisis turned experiment.
Research
I approached sobriety like an exam: studying books, listening to podcasts, watching sober influencers on TikTok, sliding into the DMs of people who I knew didn’t drink to ask them how they did it. The more I learned about when and why people drank, the more I understood my own relationship with it. I couldn’t imagine going on vacation or attending a wedding or, god forbid, going on a first date without a glass of wine.
One of my cold DMs went to a sober New York City influencer who kindly replied and sent me the address of an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting happening the next day. I had a gut feeling it wouldn’t resonate with me long-term, but her message felt like a sign I should at least try it. I don’t consider myself an alcoholic or an addict, but the all-women meetings I briefly attended showed me it’s possible to travel solo, rip up the dance floor, and, yes, even meet a rando off Hinge sans wine — and that those experiences may even feel richer without that.
Testing and learning
Just like my emotions swung like a pendulum after I stopped taking birth control pills, I wondered how my body would change after I quit this drug. Would I sleep better? (Spoiler: Yes.) Lose weight? Have clearer skin? Feel more secure?
April 2022
I started with a one-month detox. Mornings were rough when I drank, even if I didn’t get drunk, so it was nice to start my weekends early. I went to workout classes the old me rarely made it to, and getting that movement in helped me feel good in my skin.
May 2022
I went to Napa Valley and washed down charcuterie boards with lots of cabernet. It was a lovely girls’ trip, but the hangxiety kicked in around 3am on our last night and continued for a full week after. I also drunk texted an ex and woke up disappointed in myself because I wouldn’t have done that sober.
As a result, I declared I was done with drinking (again). I stuck to it for two weeks, then gifted myself a dirty Shirley on my 30th birthday in mid-May. After a few sips, I decided I didn’t need it — I was having a great time at karaoke with my favorite people, so what would it add to the experience? — so I abandoned the rest of the glass.
June 2022
I noticed it was easy for me to walk away from alcohol with my friends but not with strangers. When I wasn’t interested in someone, I felt compelled to drink until I found them interesting. This familiar pattern was unfolding with a guy I’d just started seeing, so I decided to stop drinking on our dates. Did I actually like him or was it the alc talking?
Reader, it was the booze. The next time we met, I ordered a mocktail and took precisely one sip of his cocktail — the bartender made it look so pretty, I wanted to try it — and went home early because I didn’t particularly want to be there. Yes, that’s harsh, but for the first time maybe ever, I prioritized my agency over male validation. I didn’t know it at the time, but this ended up being the last time I drank to date.
July 2022
Lest you think I’m a heartless monster, we went out one more time, which cemented our lack of connection. Each day I didn’t drink, my confidence grew, giving me faith I could tackle another situation I, and society in general, associate with drinking: a bachelorette. I drank nonalcoholic seltzer out of penis straws on the bride-to-be’s San Diego weekend and didn’t wake up anxious once. While my Napa girls’ trip just two months prior started with joy and ended with a pit in my stomach, this vacation felt like a celebration from start to finish.
December 2022 (six months without alcohol!)
At six months, my baseline levels of anxiety had decreased. Things that once sent my heart rate soaring no longer sent me into a panic. For example, I’d started job hunting in September 2022 and though I was stressing, I was much less stressed than I’d been in the past. I felt more dialed in during my interviews and breezed through case studies and edit tests. And when I finally got offers, negotiating salary and benefits — something that once made me hyperventilate on the spot — went smoother than ever. I was always nervous, don’t get me wrong, but I was able to navigate my nerves with a clear head instead of letting them take control.
This emotional regulation transferred to my love life, too. I got over situationships quicker and stopped tolerating disrespectful behavior for the sake of validation. I like to think I would’ve gotten there eventually even if I kept drinking, but I believe sobriety cleared a path for me to get there sooner.
June 2023 (one year without alcohol!!)
For my one-year soberversary, I hosted a brunch and brag where we went around the table and shared things we were proud of from the past year — from not drinking (me) to trying a new sport (a friend) to spending more time with family (another friend). After that, I stopped keeping track of how long I hadn’t drank because it was no longer an experiment; it became the way I lived.
Conclusion
The joke I tell my therapist is that cutting out alcohol improved my mental health more than five-plus years of seeing her — and actually saved me money, unlike our sessions. The short-term benefits (improved sleep, more time due to fewer hours spent rotting from a hangover) were nice, but I saw the most life-changing improvements after six months or so. I feel better equipped to handle whatever life throws at me. There’s a lot more peace externally and, most importantly, internally.
The data speaks for itself; I went from having monthly shame spirals down to just one (one!!!) in the two years I’ve been alcohol-free. Now, instead of trying to wow other people, I’m wowing myself.
Recommendations
Reframe — an app that uses neuroscience to change your drinking habits
How to Not Die Alone: The Surprising Science That Will Help You Find Love by Logan Ury — a self-help book about dating (how original) that’s helped me “decide, not slide” into relationships and is worth reading even if you’re coupled up
Chappell Roan’s “Femininomenon” — so good!!
Deepa Lakshmin is a Webby-winning writer and editor based in New York City who's covered everything from entertainment to politics. She's currently the Director of Social Media at Lonely Planet, where she leads social strategy and creates travel content across the globe. Her work has also appeared in National Geographic, Atlas Obscura, Vox, MTV News, NYLON and more. Find her (and see photos of her cat) on Instagram and Twitter at @deepa.
Say hi to my new Managing Editor for Post-Mortem, Farah Faye! She is the host of the Scrappy Reading Series, and is an emerging writer living in Brooklyn, NY. She holds an MFA in Creative Nonfiction from Spalding University and her work has appeared in Shondaland, Business Insider, Medium, and her Substack, art monster magazine. You can find her on Instagram @whoisfarahfaye and @scrappyreadingseries. She is open to taking new clients!! She has great taste, incredible organizational and marketing skills and I trust her completely. Hire her to help with your book launch, startup, podcast, or developmental edit - reach out to her directly, farah@farahfaye.com.
Good thing I don’t have a drinking problem since I don’t like to drink alcoholic drinks (or the way I put it, I only like the really good stuff I can’t afford 😂) but I think we all have things we are obsessed over. Part of the human weakness. I remembered talking to this person I met on CompuServe (I am that old) that I am too much of a control freak and alcohol just doesn’t work for me haha. But for what it’s worth, I seem to know quite a few alcoholics so I know somewhat what they had gone through. And it wasn’t fun. I am happy that you are now sober and can see the world differently and are doing well. That’s something to celebrate 🙂
This resonates so so so much!!