A Sober Curious Senior Year
October 5, 2022
A little over a month ago, I turned 21. A little less than a month ago, I decided to lay off drinking. Maybe indefinitely, maybe not; I’m what one would call, “sober curious.”
Coined by Ruby Warrington, sober curiosity is the trending phenomenon of people reevaluating their relationships with alcohol. For months, my TikTok feed has been filled with videos from the somewhat-sober population, chronicling their experiences that have led them to drink more intentionally and, often in consequence, significantly less.
In high school, I never drank. But in the span of 6 months between my freshman and sophomore years of college, I was hospitalized twice for alcohol poisoning.
As you might’ve guessed, I learned very few lessons from the first incident. My relationship with alcohol was still new and I had been assured that those kinds of mistakes happen to the best of us, that it was just unlucky how grave mine was. Everyone, including myself, said that all I needed to do was learn my limits; I never stopped to question why I kept pushing them. The only thing anyone asked of me was please, don’t let this happen again.
When it did, I decided out of shame more than anything else, to stop drinking once and for all. It was a burning hell. I didn’t like who I was or how I felt. I spent nights in and went home early to avoid any temptation of alcohol. Although the lifestyle became easier and at many times enjoyable, it only lasted about 2 months. I began to worry that my growing fear of alcohol was becoming more controlling of my life than drinking ever was. I felt shackled to staying in because I was so afraid of even one sip.
So, I started out slow. One drink once or twice a week. Something to hold in my hand to help me “normally” return to my old social scenes. Nothing but a mild buzz to stop my spiraling thoughts. I stayed in that seemingly sweet and sober spot for a few months until, before I knew it, I was binge drinking again. I did what I could to convince myself that it was okay, that it wasn’t the same as before.
I thought I had developed a healthier relationship with alcohol, when in hindsight, it had only become more manageable. I was getting drunk, but not blacking out; waking up hungover, but not in a hospital bed. I was living out my college years how I thought everyone else was, oblivious to the fact that I wasn’t living them like myself.
Clarity came this summer when I stopped stumbling into the scenes where I notoriously second-guess myself into drunkenness. I spent my time with people who knew and loved me as my sober self, instead of crowded bars and loud parties. This combination of distance and good company helped me grow more confident in my qualities I haven’t always liked. I learned to love who I was without being drowned out by a buzz.
Gradually, my desire to drink was almost gone. It was this realization’s subsequent question, “Why?” that forced me into admitting what I had tried so hard to deny.
Since freshman year, I used drinking as a means of transformation. I relied on its ability to make me appear loud and outgoing when, in reality, I’m quiet and introverted until you really get to know me. I used it to self-medicate my anxiety rather than let it exist in the places that are simply out of my comfort zone.
The past few months I’ve learned to embrace that I love staying in and staying sober. While I wish not drinking came naturally for me, it doesn’t always. The pressures of college drinking culture are ever-present and, once graduated, I know this life will continue throwing me into situations that trigger my insecurities and tempt me to lean back on liquid courage. Hence my plan for an intentionally sober semester.
I don't want to avoid social scenes just because they have historically shaken my confidence. What I want to avoid is drinking for the wrong reasons. I want to learn how to listen to and sometimes push through, rather than numb, my anxiety. This year, I’m giving sober curiosity the old college try.