Dry(ish) Is the New Deep: How Drinking Less (or Not at All) Gave Me My Life Back

A few years ago, I was stuck. Not in a scandalous, headline-y way — just quietly stuck. Tired. Heavy. Sad. The kind of sad that sits in your bones and tells you nothing will change, so why try? I didn’t blame anyone. Life had thrown some curveballs, but the truth was simpler and more confronting: I’d outsourced too much of my happiness to shortcuts. Nights that blurred. Mornings that hurt. A social life that depended on a drink to feel like “me.”

I wish I’d taken the wheel sooner. But I’m also gentler with that version of me now. Pulling yourself out of a dark place isn’t a montage — it’s a long walk home.

The good news? The tide is turning, and it’s not just me. A new Gallup poll reported by The Washington Post found the percentage of Americans who drink is at the lowest point Gallup has seen since 1939 — just 54%, with more people saying even “moderate” drinking isn’t healthy anymore. Average weekly drinks among those who do imbibe are down too, to the lowest since the ‘90s. That doesn’t make booze evil; it just means more people are reconsidering the trade-offs.

What I Didn’t See Until I Stopped

Alcohol was my confidence costume. It made me louder, shinier, braver. It also made me worse at listening to myself. My “extroversion” was often just chemically assisted performance, and it was exhausting to keep up. Sobriety didn’t turn me into a monk — just a person who’s finally comfortable being quieter, steadier, and (honestly) easier to be around.

I used to think happiness would “happen to me” when life aligned. Now I know it’s more like compound interest: small, unsexy habits stacked daily. Walking. Sleep. Food that makes my brain work. Friends who text back. Work that feels useful. Fewer inputs, more presence.

There’s a lesson here from the world of management, weirdly. Arthur C. Brooks calls it a “management anti-fad”: the best way to improve performance is to treat people like humans — clear communication, less bureaucracy, room to grow, genuine friendship at work. Unsurprisingly, companies that do this outperform those that just throw perks at people. Turns out we thrive when we’re treated like we matter. Same goes for how we manage ourselves.

If You’re Sober-Curious (or Just “Drink-Less Curious”)

No moralising here. Just things that helped me move from “I should” to “I do.”

1) Build morning anchors. A walk before phone. Water before coffee. Ten minutes of stretching. Tiny wins snowball.

2) Decide your nights in daylight. Pick the non-alcoholic option before you get to the bar. (My go-tos: soda water, zero-ABV beer, or… tea. Wild.)

3) Create “clean fun” rituals. Friday night dumplings. Saturday hike. Sunday swim. Make joy a routine, not a reward.

4) Script your no. “I’m taking a break right now.” “Non-alc for me tonight.” If someone pushes, that’s data.

5) Stack social without booze. Sport, volunteering, book clubs, queer meetups. Community that doesn’t hinge on drinking is rocket fuel.

6) Expect awkward — and outlast it. The first few weekends can feel flat. It passes. Your baseline lifts.

7) If you slip, land softly. Learn, adjust, keep going. Shame is a terrible coach.

What You Gain When You Stop Outsourcing Your Joy

  • Energy that lasts. Not just “more hours awake” — clearer thinking, steadier moods.

  • Relationships with more texture. You remember conversations. People feel met, not performed at.

  • Self-respect. When your actions match your values, confidence grows quietly in the background.

And if you’re reading this thinking, “I’ve wasted years,” I hear you. I used to feel that sting too. But there’s a better frame: you didn’t waste time; you gathered data. You know what doesn’t work. That’s valuable.

You control the habits that build your life. Not all outcomes. But the inputs? Those are yours.

If you’re making a change this week — sobriety, sober-ish, or just less — tell someone who’ll cheer. Put one thing on your calendar that doesn’t need a drink to be good. Then do it again next week. That’s how the ground gets solid.

And if anyone tells you you’re “less fun” without alcohol… let them be wrong about you.

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The Real-Life Reset

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Future-Proofing Your Heart and Mind: The Queer Case for Loving Your Body, Your Brain, and Your Relationships