Never Is Easier Than Sometimes

Sober curious or teetotal?

🌸 ikigai 生き甲斐 is a reason for being, your purpose in life - from the Japanese iki 生き meaning life and gai 甲斐 meaning worth 🌸

I never intended to stop drinking entirely.

One year ago, I agreed to join my husband in an experiment, one year no beer. There was no dramatic rock bottom moment, just curiosity about what might change. Now I'm staring down the end of that year feeling simultaneously lighter (in heaps of ways!) but also weighed down by an unexpected question;

Why is it SO much easier for me to never drink than to sometimes drink?

I found a quote on Reddit that made it click a little for me;

"It's easier to keep a lion in a cage than on a lead"

The mental energy I used to spend trying to moderate my drinking was far greater than the simplicity of just... not drinking.

I’ve been thinking about British and Manx drinking culture, masking and the weird maths we do around 'worth it' when it comes to choices that impact our health and wellbeing.

Living on the Isle of Man, I grew up hearing the description of our home as 80 thousand alcoholics clinging to a rock. What strikes me now is how that used to make me feel oddly proud rather than concerned. Why do we wear our unhealthy relationship with alcohol as a badge of honour?

This sense of collective pride in drinking made me think it was normal, even admirable. Yet over time, I began to question whether this pride was really serving me.

The paradox of moderation

I very much like red wine and Guinness and I’m not going to lie, having a few drinks makes me feel like a shinier version of me. The brain noise quietens down, social situations are a little less overwhelming and I feel funnier (whether I actually am is another matter *grin*).

But it's like having a volume control that only works properly for the first few clicks. Beyond that, it's increasingly likely to blast at full volume with the risk of regret and a hangover that makes you question your life choices.

Dr. Anna Lembke, Stanford psychiatrist and author of "Dopamine Nation" explains this phenomenon of our brain chemistry. Our pleasure-pain balance is delicate, and moderation often requires constant adjustment of this neural seesaw, which can be exhausting!

I’ve been a master of this dance for a while, doing Dry January year after year, proving to the world I can do it. Each success became a permission slip to drink again, and by March the weekend only rules would have quietly dissolved.

These annual rituals of temporary sobriety were comforting, look how easily I can stop! Each January became both a test and a shield, proof of control that paradoxically protected my lack of it. Looking back, I can see how each cycle of proving and permitting was its own form of exhausting moderation just played out over months instead of moments.

The pattern was so subtle I barely noticed it happening. First weekend in February, obviously time for a celebration drink. Then maybe a glass of wine after a particularly stressful Wednesday. Soon enough, any rules I'd tried to set would be lost in a fog of "just this once" exceptions.

Rinse and repeat, year after year.

It’s been genuinely refreshing this year to not touch the volume control at all.

Alcohol Change UK noted that more than eight million people considered taking part in Dry January last year and the “One Year No Beer” challenge has attracted thousands of members, all looking to see if a longer break from alcohol brings benefits moderation never managed. These growing communities don’t aim to demonise drinking; they simply invite us to think more carefully about its place in our day-to-day lives.

Such interest underlines that my experience isn’t an isolated one, many of us are becoming curious about life without alcohol and what it might reveal.

The cost-benefit analysis & a neurodivergent perspective

Weirdly our society pushes the narrative that drinking is essential for a full life; for celebration, for commiseration, for relaxation, for connection.

Isn’t it also a bit weird that so many of us appear to find the actual act of drinking entertaining?

As I've been reflecting on my year of clarity and what it means for me going forward, I've asked myself some uncomfortable questions;

• Does alcohol actually make any moments better, or am I just used to it being there?

• Why do I find it so much harder to say "just two drinks" than "no drinks"?

• Does drinking align with or detract from my sense of purpose and wellbeing?

That last question really has given me the biggest kick. In seeking my ikigai, my sense of meaning and purpose, how does alcohol fit in? Does it help me be more authentic, or is it a mask I've gotten too comfortable wearing?

For those of us who find social situations challenging, whether diagnosed as neurodivergent or not, alcohol can feel like a shortcut to ease. It's like having a social lubricant on tap, promising to make everything smoother and more manageable.

It’s likely I’ve been using it as a crutch rather than developing real coping strategies. What if challenging social situations are actually trying to tell us something important about our needs and boundaries?

Looking back to move forward

I’ve just found a photo of a younger me, messy, fierce and clearly struggling with emotions too big to contain. Looking at her now I feel such tenderness and pride, even while recognising how difficult she was. How much she was hurting.

Those same intense emotions, that same fierce spirit, they're still very much part of who I am.

Somewhere along the way, like so many of us, I learned to manage some of them with a glass of wine rather than sitting with them, really listening to what they were trying to tell me.

What would that fierce girl think about that?

I wonder if sobriety isn't saying no to alcohol, but saying yes to feeling everything again. About sitting a while in the mess of overwhelming intensity instead of trying to smooth it away. About finally giving that younger version of ourselves the acceptance we didn’t always find then.

Perhaps that fierce little girl knew something I had to quit drinking to remember, that feeling too much is better than feeling nothing at all.

Beyond binary thinking the unexpected freedom of never

Ruby Warrington coined the term "sober curious" to describe this space of questioning our relationship with alcohol without necessarily identifying as alcoholic or committing to lifetime sobriety. Curiosity rather than restriction. My curiosity has led me to see that there is more freedom in a clear "no" than a perpetual "maybe".

The traditional narrative around drinking feels very binary. You're either a party animal or a teetotaler, either "normal" or "alcoholic”.

Instead of asking myself "am I the best version of me when I'm drinking?", a question that honestly doesn't help me much, I’ve been considering;

• "Does drinking alcohol serve my purpose?"

• "Does it help me live authentically?"

• "Is it supporting my wellbeing?"

There's something surprisingly liberating about removing the constant decision-making around drinking, no more mental gymnastics about;

• Who will be the first to admit they want a glass of wine?

• How many drinks is too many?

• Will this affect my sleep?

• Can I drive later?

• Is this worth tomorrow's headache?

Instead, one decision covers all scenarios. It's like having a really simple operating system that doesn’t need constant updates and patches.

The science increasingly backs up what many of us have discovered through experience, moderation isn't always the middle path it appears to be. As Dr. Lembke notes, for many people, complete abstinence actually requires less willpower than moderation. It removes the exhausting cycle of decision-making and negotiation with ourselves.

Looking forward & finding your own path

As I approach the end of my year-long experiment, I'm sitting with the thoughts of what comes next.

The benefits have been undeniably awesome;

• Better sleep (SO much better!)

• Financial savings

• Lower calorie intake

• Skin has been much better

• Clearer thinking

• Calmer emotions

• More authentic connections

• Alignment with my values and purpose

I'm also aware that this is a deeply personal journey, what works for me might not work for others.

Perhaps a useful reflective question isn't "should I drink or not?" but "what helps me live most authentically and purposefully while balancing my health and well-being?"

For some, that might mean mindful moderation. For others, it might mean discovering that "never" is actually easier than "sometimes." And for others still, it might mean something entirely different.

The key is honest self-reflection and alignment with your values and purpose, your own personal ikigai.

For now, I’ll stick awhile with the freedom and clarity that comes from having already decided it’s a simple no. And who knows? Perhaps I’ll continue that way, trusting that little fierce girl in me who’s ready to feel everything and miss nothing.

I'd love to hear your thoughts, have you questioned your relationship with alcohol? Found unexpected insights? What helps you navigate social situations authentically?

Sarah, seeking ikigai xxx

PS - I'll be honest I haven't actually decided what comes next. The thought of never having another glass of red wine or a Baileys while present wrapping is hard. Guinness Zero works though to be fair. Part of me wonders if allowing myself a finite number of "drinking tickets" for special occasions might be a way to avoid slipping back into old patterns while not feeling constrained by absolutes. Like having 50 more drinks left in my lifetime, would that make me really think hard about whether each occasion was "worth" using one? Or is even thinking this way a sign that I'm not ready to fully let go?

I'm planning to use my bullet journal to help me navigate this decision in the new year. Here are some of the questions and exercises I'll be exploring, and I'd really love to hear your ideas too!

Journal prompts for the sober curious;

• What am I actually afraid of losing by not drinking? What stories am I telling myself about what alcohol adds to my life?

• If I had only 50 "drinking tickets" left, what occasions would I save them for? What does this tell me about what I truly value?

• When do I feel I’ll be most tempted to drink after this year is up? What needs would I be trying to meet in those moments?

• What have I gained in this year of clarity that I'm not willing to give up?

Reflection exercise - create a spread in your journal;

• "Moments I Missed Nothing" - keep collecting evidence of joy, connection and authenticity without alcohol

I don't have to have it all figured out right now but maybe the path forward will become clearer as I keep asking myself honest questions.

PPS - How did I not realise Chandelier is about drinking?! >