“India Akca, 21, a student from Devon, tells Nox why she’ll never drink alcohol again.
I come from a small town on the coast of South-West England. It’s a pretty nice place to retire. But for fifteen year olds, there is nothing at all. So we would go to the parks that we had grown out of playing in, and we’d drink ourselves into oblivion, with whatever we could get our hands on. Which was usually a litre bottle of shit cider, or the dregs of whatever was left at the back of the alcohol cupboard we had in our kitchens that our parents hadn’t touched in years. The teenage initiation of drinking, smoking, throwing up and passing out is a popular pass time for British kids. And not one that our parents were even shocked at because, as I’ve come to learn, they did exactly the same.
Image credit: India Akca
As I got older, and I started going to nightclubs, the habitual binge-drinking style became a money saving excuse. Don’t get me wrong, it worked – but one to two bottles of wine before an evening dancing in the sweaty local nightclub, in which every person in the room I knew to some extent, didn’t bode well with these kinds of social situations.
I would see old flames, old friends, distant cousins, crushes that I had never disclosed my feelings to (until a drunken encounter.) I’d compliment the girls I hated at school, or have a tear jerking heart to heart with someone I barely knew, or genuinely believe the god-like strength booze gave me by attempting to arm wrestle gym guys (resulting in a sprained wrist.)
All of this seems funny in retrospect, but the reality is much worse. I still cringe when I think about how it made me feel – or how I think it made me feel, since blackouts tend to be difficult to remember. I do remember some things, but not the euphoric buzz of borderline alcohol poisoning. I’d feel like absolute shit for weeks recalling the things I had done and the situations I had gotten into whilst drunk.
It was like a disorderly, impulsive alter ego, that I would scold in my sober mind, but she had me in a chokehold. Like a devil on my shoulder, persuading me to drown my problems, that regardless, would come to the surface somehow. Whether that be a drunken conversation with a stranger in the smoking area, or in the emotionally vulnerable state of regurgitating all the wine I had drunk with my head in my mates toilet the morning after.
Then university came around. Coming out of lockdown into an entirely newfound freedom, in a new city. I was 18 and the world was mine. And this time I was living with my new friends. Hair-of-the-dog became my new mantra during freshers, I was partying. And with my severe case of FOMO, I immersed myself in this non-stop party culture, except this time I was drowning, and it caught up with me.
The last time I got drunk was my 20th birthday. I went clubbing in central London, I had maybe two drinks, and a shot. I was drunk, but not too drunk to suddenly realise that I hated this. I hated how it made me feel; the disorientation, feeling out of control, and the taste.
Image credit: India Akca
After that night, I decided to cut out alcohol.
And I haven’t gone back.
It wasn’t easy. From drinking massive quantities as once, this bled into other habits like smoking weed. It was like an all-or-nothing style of consumption. This devilish alter ego helped me recognise the pattern of consumption that at this age, seems so normal. It helped me uncover the reasons why. It was a socially acceptable way to attempt to drown out my social anxiety, something I had always suffered with. I have recognised that avoiding my issues or masking them won’t make them go away – and if anything, it made them worse.
I recently celebrated my 21st birthday completely alcohol free, which I could have not possibly imagined years prior. The day made me more grateful for my decision, with the memories unscathed by amnesia. My friends respect my choice. Surprisingly, most people envy my efforts to stay away from alcohol rather than find it strange. Here’s the funny thing. There is really no big secret to it. I don’t have to drink if I don’t want to.
However, dating is an ongoing struggle. As most mingling takes place online, the go-to date is a drink. Some guys have been thrown off by the idea of a sober date. But I think, are they really worth my time if they only want to get drunk with me? This has made me more cautious towards dating, especially as a woman. Their respect for my personal choices tells me everything I need to know.
Some guys I’ve dated often wont drink if I’m not drinking either, which is always a green flag. If this person could be the one I love, I need to know them for real, you know?
I have begun to see the world in a different way. Drinking is so ingrained in all aspects of socialising. You have to get creative with new ways of enjoying yourself. I love live music and I’m not afraid to dance as much as I would a bottle deep. I have done things I’ve never done before, shamelessly and entirely present. The courage to do things sober without the false sense of confidence alcohol gives you is a new kind of euphoria that is so rewarding.
It’s a humbling reminder of what being human is supposed to be like; to stimulate my mind and your body, appreciate the colours in a room, to feel how out of breath I am after singing and dancing, and to laugh until my stomach hurts by acting childish and silly.
Find your inner child inside you again, and nurture her, whether you drink or not. She will love you back.
I’ve changed. but for the better. My wild-child alter ego and I had our fun, but she was a bad friend.
I wouldn’t demonise people’s choices to drink. I’ve been there, and everyone has different limits and experiences. I just think mine were to my detriment rather than to my benefit. And I know I am not the only one; there are thousands of us out there.
If anyone hearing this is sober-curious, it is worth trying. If you think alcohol is making you miserable, it probably is. Don’t be afraid, this can change.
Here is my perspective; everyone drinks, and going sober might just be the most defiant and rebellious thing you can do in your 20’s.
Kate Bailey is a sober coach and drinking expert. Here are her tips for staying sober and having fun:
- It’s about finding your fit. Getting sober, and finding sober communities, is not a one-size-fits-all situation.
- Think about your personality. Some people are quite rebellious, some are geeky, etc. I would highly suggest finding a community that works in a way that fits your interests, as then you are more inclined to genuinely engage, and find like-minded people.
- When it comes to misuse of alcohol, it’s about asking better questions. Why might an individual’s relationship with alcohol affect them more than the next person. We shouldn’t tell people off. Uncovering what’s underneath is what needs to be addressed.
In a bittersweet conclusion, the hangxiety you feel likely isn’t entirely due to last night’s mistakes. But how we deal with the aftermath can be telling.
If you want to know more and would like some expert advice, Kate can be reached on her website, kate@lovesober.com.