I'm a millennial who identifies as 'sober-curious' — here's why I rarely drink alcohol, but don't want to go tee-total

• For the past year and a half, I've identified as sober-curious.
• This means that while I don't drink often, I don't want to give up alcohol altogether.
• It's a sharp contrast from my early 20s, when I was a real party girl.
• For me, the main driver is my health and fitness, but my change in drinking habits also reflects an overall priority shift many people experience as they get older.
• As I was only ever a social drinker, a move away from partying has tied in with a reduction in drinking.
• For me, it's about being mindful of when the booze — and the negative side effects — are worth it.
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As little as four years ago, I considered myself to be a true party girl.

Bottomless brunches were a weekly occurrence, I was always the one topping up everyone's glasses at social engagements, and was often the last person dancing on tables at parties.

I was only ever a social drinker, though — I was never someone who got home at the end of a long day and cracked open the gin or wine for a solo beverage, but as a sociable person, social drinking meant a lot of drinking.

Now, still only 27, my lifestyle couldn't be more different.

I am one of a growing number of people — and millennials in particular — who identify as "sober-curious."

Sober-curiosity is about mindfulness around drinking

While there's no single definition of the term, for most people being sober-curious means not drinking very much, without giving alcohol up altogether.

"Some people think it means being curious about being tee-total and others treat sober-curiosity more like mindful drinking, which means becoming more aware of the motivations behind your drinking and changing your relationship with alcohol in a more positive way," Millie Gooch, founder of Sober Girl Society, told Insider for a previous feature on the trend.

"This could mean cutting down, extended periods of abstinence, or just taking the time to really understand your relationship with alcohol."

In my case, I've drunk on four occasions over the first four months of this year: A dinner party at the end of Dry January (a few proseccos), a birthday drinks and dinner (one gin, one prosecco), the launch of Virgin Voyages cruise ships (some champagne, a couple of cocktails), and Easter with my family (a glass of champagne).

And importantly, I don't get hammered when I do drink, usually only having one or two drinks in a sitting, or maybe a little more if spread out over a period of time.

My changing drinking habits reflect an overall lifestyle shift

Whilst I now drink less than I ever have in my adult life, I didn't go from party girl to near abstinence overnight, though — far from it.

As a teenager, I had no interest in alcohol and rarely drank, other than the occasional Smirnoff Ice, which — let's be honest — is more sugar than anything else. The same went for my first two years of university, where I would partake in pre-drinks but never got smashed, and then make excuses to get out of going to the club.

It wasn't until the third year of my degree, spent in Germany and Belgium, that I actually got drunk for the first time, aged 21 (a particularly messy night in Prague springs to mind — and still makes me shudder).

I don't know whether it was because I found drinks that I actually enjoyed on the continent or just that I'm a late bloomer, but that was the start of my party years.

At the end of 2018 though, aged 26, I realized something had to change. I had a few occasions in a row where I'd overdone it and ended up making myself incredibly sick, and I knew I needed to reset.

Despite having turned my nose up at the concept for years, in 2019 I decided to undertake Dry January, not knowing it would completely change my drinking habits and relationship with alcohol for the long term.

I cut down all year after that one sober month, gave alcohol up completely for another month in the summer, and after my consumption had crept up again at the end of 2019, decided to do Dry January for a second time in 2020.

Now I'm here, fully identifying as sober-curious. My mum would simply call it "not drinking very much," but we love a label in Gen Y.

Health is the main driver

As I've cut down my alcohol consumption, I've grown more and more health-conscious, and as we all know, consuming vast quantities of alcohol simply isn't healthy.

Fitness is a huge part of my life: I love working out, I get a sense of satisfaction by getting stronger and fitter, and going sober-curious has meant my training feels much better and I make more progress.

Whenever I do drink now, my workout the next day (sometimes even days) always feels like much harder work — I feel weak, and that's annoying.

Then there's the fact that drinking less means I have more energy, I sleep better, my skin is clearer, I eat more healthily, and I've lost weight.

It's an upwards spiral for me — the less I drink, the better I feel. The better I feel, the less I want to drink.

I realize I sound unbearably smug, and I don't blame you if you want to punch me in the face and tell me to shut up, because a few years ago I'd have been exactly the same.

My sober-curiosity doesn't just reflect an increased focus on health and fitness, though, but a priority change: Over the past year or so, I've grown out of partying every weekend and realized I'm actually an introvert (albeit an extroverted one), and I just don't want to be out all the time, drinking or otherwise.

I don't want to give up alcohol completely

To be clear, I still enjoy the taste of alcohol. A crisp glass of rosé on a sunny day, sweet, bubbly prosecco, a refreshing G&T, a fruity glass of Pimm's or an Aperol spritz in summer — I still love all these drinks and more, so I don't want to cut out booze forever.

I'm a firm believer in moderation when it comes to food, and I take the same approach to alcohol.

As I've never been a problem drinker, I don't have to go sober for my health, so why cut booze out altogether?

All those drinks I enjoy are part of life's pleasures for me, and it would feel too overwhelming, not to mention unnecessary, to say I was never going to drink again.

Equally, taste aside, I still appreciate that it's fun to get a bit tipsy and enjoy the inhibition-loosening effects of alcohol with your friends from time to time. I'm only human.

I also know that I may not always drink this little, and as my life goes on my drinking habits and relationship with booze will likely change. And I'm fine with that.

I have to decide when the negative side effects are worth it

Needless to say, the less you drink, the more it affects you when you do.

I feel the looseness after just one beverage these days (what a cheap date, although sober dating is a whole different issue), but equally, one drink at night will see me waking up with a headache the next day. I'm 27. It's outrageous.

I find the severity of my hangovers now particularly astounding given two years ago I'd built up such a tolerance that I considered myself to be a heavyweight, proud of the fact that I could drink much larger men under the table and wake up with a fresh head the next day (usually via a period of the night spent with my head in the toilet, though. Very classy).

These days, it's a case of deciding when drinking is worth it.

My brother's engagement or my sister getting a new job, for example, are both occasions I'd likely want to have a drink to celebrate.

Equally, if I were to really want a glass of something, in particular, one day for no real reason, I wouldn't deprive myself.

But the weekly Friday office beers at 4 p.m. (when I don't even really like beer)? Not worth it.

I don't drink just for the sake of it, just because it's there, because it's free, because I can. What's the point?

Being sober-curious can be harder in a social situation than being tee-total

It took me a while to really learn this, but I actually don't need alcohol to have fun. No, honestly. Even when everyone around me is drinking.

I have nothing against other people drinking much more than me — go forth and get smashed if you want to. What I can't stand, however, is when people try and peer pressure me into drinking when I don't want to.

I don't lecture you about how you should be drinking less (and let's be real, I have more of a valid case), so why should it be acceptable to do the opposite?

In social situations, being sober-curious can actually be harder than being completely tee-total: while people in the latter camp are often left alone because they can just say, "I don't drink," when your friends know you drink sometimes, they're less likely to take no for an answer.

"Don't be boring," they say.

I'm not. And if you'll just let me be, I think you'll find I am still a hoot, even off the sauce.

What I do find really helpful in social situations is the plethora of non-alcoholic grown-up drinks available these days.

In my opinion, they hit the spot in exactly the same way as booze, which goes to show that for me, what I thought I got from the alcohol is actually from the connotations and from feeling like a part of the group and the vibe.

My favorite non-alcoholic drinks include Seedlip or Ceder's and tonic instead of a G&T, Noughty or Nosecco in place of bubbles, and Martini's non-alcoholic Aperitivo instead of an Aperol spritz.

We should challenge what's considered 'normal' in drinking culture

I don't want to ram sober-curiosity down people's throats or try and "convert" anyone who's perfectly happy as they are — there's nothing more annoying than a preacher.

But I do want to help spread the message that, despite societal norms and the overt glamorization of alcohol we're all so used to, you don't have to drink to have fun, to be stylish, to be cool.

I think it's important to challenge that idea that so many of us were brought up believing.

Alcohol isn't the devil. You don't have to feel bad for drinking. Much like you shouldn't feel guilty for eating a slice of cake, a family-sized bag of chocolate buttons, or a whole tub of ice cream in one sitting.

We're allowed to enjoy things that may not be the "healthiest" for us.

But I'm pretty sure everyone could benefit from taking a month or so off the sauce to reset and to re-evaluate their relationship with alcohol. You may go back to exactly the same drinking habits afterwards, and if you're happy and healthy, absolutely fair play. You do you.

But maybe, like me, you'll realize there's a happier, healthier sober-curious life waiting for you out there.

Read more:

Millennials are cutting down on alcohol without going completely teetotal — and as one of them, I understand why

I planked for a minute every day for a month, and was surprised when I actually noticed a flatter stomach

5 crucial exercise lessons I learned when I cut my body fat nearly in half in 6 months without losing my muscle

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