A Year Without Alcohol, But Not Without Opinions

Turns out sobriety didn’t make me quieter. Just clearer.

I hit 365 days without alcohol, and I’m honestly not sure what the appropriate reaction is supposed to be.

Am I supposed to cry?

Throw a party?

Order myself an edible arrangement?

Get a chip?

Get a cake shaped like a liver?

Because right now it just feels like: “Well… damn. I actually did it.”

No dramatic relapse. No “just one drink won’t hurt.” No blackout celebrations. Just… a year. Fully conscious. Fully remembered. Fully mine.

And that feels bigger than any toast ever did.

🍸 The Background Nobody Asked For But I’m Giving Anyway

I didn’t grow up around casual drinkers. I grew up around “alcohol is the family hobby” drinkers.

Holidays = drinking.

Birthdays = drinking.

Weddings, funerals, Tuesdays = drinking.

So quitting wasn’t just “wow proud of me for choosing kale and self-respect.” It was breaking a pattern I was basically bred for.

You know how people say “alcoholism runs in my family”? Yeah. Mine wasn’t running. It was sprinting laps. Hydrating with tequila. Stretching between shots.

So to go a full year without drinking? That’s not just a choice — that’s a plot twist.

☕ Things That Changed (and Absolutely Shocked Me)

✅ I became a morning person. Not a “wakes up at 7 and stretches” person. A full-on 4–5 a.m. coffee gremlin with functioning brain cells.

✅ I lost weight… then gained it back (thanks, medication). But I lost the bloat, the fake confidence, the anxiety sweats, the “what did I say last night?” panic.

✅ My memory came back. Turns out life is way less dramatic when you remember the whole story.

✅ Drunk people now annoy the hell out of me. And yes — I am fully aware this makes me a hypocrite. Past Me was a walking cautionary tale with lip gloss.

✅ I don’t need alcohol to socialize, cope, or prove I’m fun. I just need coffee, attitude, and the peace of knowing I won’t wake up missing my debit card.

💀 The Part Where I Admit Something Gross

There is a voice in my head that says:

“Why are you celebrating not poisoning yourself? Isn’t that just… normal human behavior?”

And honestly? Fair question.

But you know what?

It wasn’t normal for me. It wasn’t normal for my family. It wasn’t normal for the version of me who thought alcohol was a personality trait.

So yeah. I’m celebrating.

Not because I stopped drinking —but because I stopped needing to.

🧠 8 Lessons I Didn’t Learn From a Bar Stool

1. Alcohol wasn’t the fun — I was.

2. Hangovers were just life’s way of charging me interest for bad decisions.

3. “Just one drink” always meant “let’s see how chaotic we can get.”

4. Being clear-headed is addictive in a way alcohol never was.

5. The peace you feel when you stop disappointing yourself >>> any buzz.

6. People who can’t handle Sober You were never actually handling Drunk You either.

7. Quitting doesn’t fix everything — it just removes the fog so you finally can.

8. There is no “right time” to quit. There’s just the day you’re done lying to yourself.

🎤 Closing Thought Before I Go Make Coffee

I didn’t get a chip. I didn’t get a parade. No confetti cannon fell from the sky when I woke up this morning.

But I got something better:

A year of my life I can fully remember. A mind that doesn’t need numbing to exist. And the kind of self-respect you can’t buy in a bottle.

So no, I don’t need a toast.

But if you insist?

Cheers. With iced coffee. And boundaries.

— BC&T 🖤