Twelve things I learned from my first 1,000 days sober

Spoiler: Life is better

Day Four was always my biggest stumbling block. Over the ten or so years when I was trying—and failing—to slow my drinking down, I caved most consistently on Day Four.

Day One was often easy, especially if I was hung over. (Although there were plenty of hung over days that started with me swearing “I’m never drinking again!” and ended with a bottle of Pinot Grigio in my belly.) On Day Two, I felt virtuous and wholesome, like I’d just spent a week at a yoga retreat. If I made it to Day Three I was almost aggressively proud of myself—and more than a little grouchy. And on Day Four, I drank with a vengeance.

Why did I repeatedly fall off the wagon on Day Four? Sometimes I chalked it up to feeling cocky after three days off booze. That was almost too easy! Maybe I don’t have a problem after all? Might as well have a drink now; I can always just stop for three (or more!) days again tomorrow. (Except that rarely happened.) Sometimes my Day Four downfall was stress, a bad case of the fuck-its. Most often, I drank because an irresistible excuse presented itself to me. And “irresistible” had a pretty low bar. A birthday. Friends coming for dinner. An event with an open bar. Or just because it was Thursday.

Day Ten was much harder to reach, but if I got that far I always felt a strange mix of pride and panic, like I’d swum a little too far from shore. Am I really doing this? For real? Time after time, the answer came in a stemmed glass. Nope, not yet.

I’m not sure exactly when it got truly easy, not just to stop drinking but to stop restarting, but that’s where I am now.

Last week I got a notification from an app on my phone that I rarely open now, called I Am Sober. Somehow, one thousand days of living alcohol free had snuck up on me. The craziest part is that it’s kind of no big deal. I know the next thousand will pass with no effort or attention from me, and the next thousand, and so on. But since one thousand is a cool round number and a milestone worth celebrating, I thought I’d share a roundup of my top lessons learned and pleasant surprises.

1. I don’t miss it. Drinking the way I used to has become unthinkable to me, just as it was once unthinkable that I would ever stop. Every day I’m grateful to be on this side of that divide.

2. The positive effects on my life are so much better than I expected. I knew I’d sleep better. I knew I’d have more energy. I knew I would lose weight and have better skin. I assumed I’d be free from morning-after shame and hangxiety, and my productivity would increase. All of that has indeed happened. But I wasn’t prepared to see my career and creativity take off like a rocket ship; to feel truly in love with my life, perhaps for the first time. Somehow, I am more at peace with my day-to-day existence while also much more wildly ambitious than ever. Go figure.

3. Life is more fun, not less. My sources of pleasure are more varied, more subtle, and more memorable.

4. I don’t like loud, late parties any more, and it’s dawning on me that maybe I never did, if I hadn’t been drunk. Where I was once a habitual bitter-ender, I now call it a night when the freshest and most fun part of the evening is behind me.

5. I do sometimes feel a little left out when I’m in a group of people drinking, especially if we’re around a pool or at a wedding…

6. …but only until they get drunk. When I see people getting sloppy now, all I feel is relieved that I never have to do that, look like that, or talk like that, again.

7. I wasn’t ready until I was ready. Even when I thought I was beyond ready, I just wasn’t. And that’s ok. The revolving door of making and breaking promises to myself was painful at the time, but I don’t view my slip-ups as failures. I had to practice being sober before I could commit to it.

8. I’m more myself now. One of my most powerful motivators to stop drinking was that I wanted to discover the person I am without alcohol. Turns out, I like her. I like being her, and I like the person I’m becoming as I continue to grow and change in positive ways. I now know that I could never become that person if I was still drinking.

9. Everything is less bad. I still have problems, but they’re easier to manage because I’m clear headed and my emotions are more stable. I still make mistakes, too, but they aren’t as cringe inducing or potentially damaging. There’s a grownup in the room and I can trust her.

10. The rise of the alcohol free movement has made it a lot easier to be a non-drinker among drinkers. Most good restaurants (at least in Los Angeles) now offer dealcoholized wine and craft mocktails, which means it’s easy to have a creative, delicious sipping drink with grownup flavors and fun garnishes. One of my favorite fine dining spots even offers a juice pairing with their fancy tasting menu. I’m rarely stuck with seltzer, and that matters to a sensory hedonist like me.

11. AA is not the only way to get sober—and may not be the best way for many of us. I went to a few meetings and quickly discovered its message of powerlessness wasn’t for me. Instead, I followed, or adapted, programs like This Naked Mind and Tempest (now Monument) to cultivate a sense of agency and choice around my alcohol intake. If you’re curious about what this looked like for me, read this essay that I wrote on my one-year soberversary.

12. The real prize is that I’m getting emotionally sober. As I got off the blood sugar rollercoaster and repeated poisoning that I was subjecting myself to, my emotional equilibrium returned and it keeps getting stronger and more stable. I’m less anxious. Less angry. More peaceful in every situation. Since our emotional state affects the way we perceive and interact with the world, this has improved literally every aspect of my life, especially my relationships and my work.

I still think about drinking sometimes. Hey, look, wine! I could get some if I wanted. But I know I’m not going to do it. I may like the ritual of popping open a fresh bottle of rosé, but all I have to do is think of the toxic taste and smell of ethanol and I instantly know I don’t want it in my body.

I don’t judge other people for drinking, although I find it a lot less interesting to be around them when they are. I also don’t have a blanket prohibition on mood-altering substances. I still eat the odd weed gummy and that’s ok because I don’t feel compelled to do it often and it doesn’t diminish my life.

The point, for me, is to do more of what fuels my vitality and avoid things that weaken it, including engaging in toxic relationships and destructive self-talk. Anything that depletes my life force is going to have to go.

If you’re questioning your own drinking, I hope this list encourages you to experiment with some alcohol-free periods. You don’t have to be an alcoholic to quit drinking, and you don’t have to feel deprived without booze. Giving up this one thing could bring a flood of joy, health, freedom, confidence, and pleasure into your life.

xo