Why I Stopped Drinking at 26 (Without Calling Myself Sober)
I didn’t have a "problem", I just wanted to stop doing something that made me feel awful
It’s truly a humbling experience when your face is on the toilet seat about to violently vomit for the third time in a row (sorry for the visual).
I guess you could say the toilet seat pressed against my cheek led to an insane epiphany:
“Why do we keep doing something that makes us feel awful…just because it’s expected?”
I was 26 years old, fresh from a lovely meal with my mom at Morton’s Steakhouse, one of my favorite restaurants. I had only had one glass of sangria. One. What the hell was going on?
And this wasn’t the first time alcohol had made me violently ill in the past few months. I have a vivid memory of taking a single shot of tequila at dinner with friends and running to the bathroom about three minutes later. The smell of tequila still triggers me to this day.
I didn’t understand why my body was suddenly rejecting something I was typically accustomed to.
For me, it was normal to have a cocktail at dinner, usually just one. I was never a huge drinker, but I loved to party, socialize, and be outside. And for most people, those things usually included heavy drinking.
Though I was never super drawn to alcohol - or any vice, really (I’ve never even smoked weed!) - it felt like being social in your early twenties was immediately tied to drinking. Every dinner, party, outing, or even just going to someone’s house you’d always end up drinking.
I felt pressure to drink at every event. In professional settings, I’d feel pressure to drink. Even wellness events would have alcohol. A workout or wellness class where drinks were served at the end always felt so counterintuitive to me. But if everyone else was drinking, why not? And if you turned down free alcohol—WHAT?! You monster. There was so much stigma in saying “no” or being seen as “boring.”
It was maybe the sixth time I got sick from just one cocktail that I finally said, okay, it’s not that serious. Maybe I just won’t drink.
What was funny was the response from people around me. Instead of being like, “okay, cool, don’t drink,” people jumped to help me find ways to still drink.
“Take this pill.”
“Hydrate beforehand.”
“Drink beer instead.”
“Try a lower-proof alcohol.”
“Just stick to cocktails with less sugar.”
Maybe I just don’t want to drink…and that’s okay too.
What gave me the final push was discovering the book Quit Like A Woman by Holly Whitaker. It completely changed my view on alcohol. I highly suggest reading it if you want to stop, it’ll make you never want to take a sip again.
But most importantly, it introduced me to the concept of being sober curious.
Sober curious refers to the practice of consciously questioning your relationship with alcohol, rather than mindlessly consuming it. It’s about reflecting on why, when, and how much you drink and exploring the benefits of drinking less (or not at all). It doesn’t necessarily mean committing to lifelong abstinence, but being mindful and intentional.
I realized it doesn’t have to be one extreme or the other. Sobriety doesn’t have to mean “having a problem.” This concept helped me redefine my relationship with alcohol through curiosity, not restriction.
It was hard at first. I was only 26, and my friends were rightfully confused. It was isolating. I could tell I wasn’t getting invited to certain places anymore. There was peer pressure to “just have one.” I could feel people’s discomfort drinking around me. I didn’t know how to navigate it and felt overwhelming shame. “People think I’m weird. People think I’m an alcoholic.”
I even pretended to drink for a while. Looking back, it’s so silly.
But over time, I built confidence in my choice. And funny enough, other people around me started drinking less too. It felt like as a society, we all had this collective conscious pull to cut back—but it is HARD AS HELL to be one of the first. I’m lucky that now, in 2025, it’s so normalized. No one even blinks an eye. But I had to embrace my choices internally first. (I wrote more about that in my Substack on shame.)
Now, Its been 4 years and I absolutely love being sober curious.
I’ve learned how to have fun without alcohol.
I save sooo much money – bartenders always give me a free mocktail.
I protect my health.
I wake up clear-headed — which, honestly, is the biggest win.
I feel empowered knowing I can go to clubs, events, and trips without FOMO.
Being sober curious has led to a more balanced approach. 98% of the time, I simply don’t need alcohol. But there are no strict rules. if I want one, I’ll have one. I rarely do, but the choice feels empowering instead of restrictive.
I’ve learned so much about myself and my own power. To not to let peer pressure dictate my choices, to stand in my truth, and to feel good about my decisions.
So, for anyone reading this: you don’t HAVE to drink just because it’s expected. Being sober curious is about self-awareness, not labels. If you feel called to examine your relationship with alcohol, I urge you to do so—without shame, without judgment. Just do what’s right for you.
I LOVE this