Alcohol Free

It’s me! Sober as a judge balancing on a seaweed-slippery post over the saltwater sea.

One year, no beer! I hope I’m allowed to say those words in that order, as there is a sober movement called One Year No Beer and they might own the right to say that sentence. Like, Nike might sue me if I say Just Do It, but on my way to the courthouse to fight for my right to Just bloody Do It, I won’t be drowning my sorrows, because it’s been one year since I had my last drink and I have zero intention of starting again.

I was sitting in Jersey airport waiting for my flight home in May last year when I finished Catherine Gray’s The Unexpected Joy of Being Sober. I decided not to drink again and to my astonishment, that didn’t feel like I’d be missing out on anything. It felt only that I was about to gain a whole lot of positives. The book had re-calibrated my mind and made me want to give up alcohol so I could get on with other experiences. In the 12 months since, I’ve got better and better at not drinking. I attended a wedding, sober. I stopped pretending I was drinking when we met up with friends and started feeling pretty bloody proud to be alcohol free.

And I do feel free. I feel free of the cycle of tipsy, drunk, hungover, paranoid, hungry, lazy, guilty, back to my best self for a few days, then tipsy, drunk, here we go again, did I say something to offend you, oh god I hate myself, let’s eat chips. That was my cycle and that’s why I love breaking free, but I know that’s not everyone’s experience. Some people just drink, merrily. They don’t have the paranoid, lazy, guilty chapters and good for them. Other people have a drinking ‘problem’ and don’t drink because there are dangerous consequences when they do. I didn’t have a ‘problem’, I just got bored of the cycle. I had finished drinking.

That’s my new favourite line by the way. ‘Kim, do you want a drink?’ ‘No thanks, I’ve finished drinking.’ Mission complete. On to the next level.

Him & Her… attending a wedding last May. Sober!

It’s been an interesting year of sobriety. I was ever so proud of myself for enjoying my friend’s wedding, sober. During dinner, on a table full of tipsy strangers, I was holding my own, confident in my ability to not only chat to strangers but make them laugh and be part of the fun. Gaz whispered: ‘You’re loving this aren’t you?’ He knew I was giddy with the realisation that I could be just as charming and witty without booze. Hell, maybe I was more charming and witty! Take that, champagne, you big fizzy bastard!

Circa 2011, unable to enjoy paradise because of what I’d done the night before.

I’ll confess, I haven’t been entirely tee-total these last 12 months. There was one sip of some whiskey while at a funeral with my brother, Jae. He loves whiskey and I have always enjoyed the smell, if not the way it burns my throat. He was drinking and I was sniffing and getting high off the fumes. I let the whiskey touch my lips and agreed with Jae that this was a peaty one. We lost each other in the crowds and I bumped into an old friend I hadn’t seen in years. Turned out she was now sober and we bonded over our abstinence, then went to the bar to get a softie together. Along comes my brother, now loud and inebriated, to suggest we get a whiskey together. ‘Kim doesn’t drink, Jae,’ my friend says, no doubt keen to help me navigate these bar-side interactions with drunk people. ‘Yes she does, she was just sniffing and sipping my whiskey!’ my brother says, making me sound like an alco. If I had tried to explain that I did sip his whiskey but it’s okay because I’m not an alcoholic I just choose not to drink, she’d have had ‘the lady doth protest too much’ written all over her beautiful sober face, so I just sort of stuttered and smiled. I’m surprised she didn’t give me the number for her sponsor.

I’ve stopped bullying my husband into drinking with me. I’ve started getting up earlier than my alarm, just because. I’ve met some incredible, inspiring, intelligent sober people who give me hope that I too could maybe be, if not incredible or intelligent, then at least inspiring, because I’m not being an inebriated idiot.

I wrote about sobriety for Top Sante

And I’ll write about it again!

Yup, I was off on all kinds of adventures, alcohol free.

And then came lockdown. What an anxiety inducing, bonkers, terrifying time! I’ve thought fuck it, why don’t I just drink, these are unprecedented times.

But it turns out I still prefer not drinking, even in a global pandemic.

Nine million Brits said they were going to cut down booze consumption in 2020, according to Drink Aware, but that was pre-crisis. Now, globally, alcohol sales are up 291% and I don’t doubt that for a lot of people lockdown is a time for drinking on a Tuesday morning because all hell has broken loose.

But non-alcoholic spirit Lyre has reported a 400% increase in sales in the last month too, so there are lots of people intent on continuing to make healthier choices even as the world as we knew it crumbled around us.

Conveniently for me, the mocktail market is now booming.

Vegan brand Lyre has now replaced gin on my dresser, where I used to have an ode to booze in the form of a line up of gin bottles, glorifying ethanol in that way pretty bottles do. I took all the gin bottles down, gave most to a friend, kept some for guests, and replaced them with an eclectic mix of AF spirits. It’s a booming industry as more people enjoy nights, weeks, or even years with clear heads. And now that they’ve figured out how to make a non-al spirit taste exactly like amaretto but without the toxin, it’s no wonder the low and no lifestyle choice is the fastest growing, globally.

Whatever way you are navigating lockdown, all power to you. Drink your way through it if you need to - there’s no judgement here. I’m just standing in my corner, suggesting that you don’t have to have a drinking problem to stop drinking. I am not an alcoholic and I might sniff and sip my brother’s whiskey again, without worrying that I’ve fallen off any wagons. I know that 99.9% of the time, I’ll be making a choice that makes me feel good in the moment and the next morning.