OR Find ep.122 wherever you get your podcasts.
I’ve seen enough “How to Have a Perfect Sober Christmas!” posts floating around to last me a lifetime.
And sure, maybe your festive season will be absolutely brilliant without booze. I genuinely hope it is.
But what if it’s not?
What if it’s messy and awkward and people are weird about it? Because that might happen too. And I’d rather you were prepared than blindsided.
So today we’re doing something different. We’re running through 18 scenarios that’ll almost definitely come up when you choose to drink differently this December.
Quick-fire. No sugar-coating.
Because to be forewarned is to be forearmed… right?
Other People’s Opinions (Because Don’t We Just Love Those)
1. People will ask why you’re not drinking. Repeatedly
Why? Because you’re doing something different, and different makes people uncomfortable. You’re not conforming, and that’s unsettling for them.
What to do: Pick your strategy and stick to it: give them a brief truth, change the subject, or just say “I don’t fancy it” and move on (or move away).
Don’t get drawn into explaining yourself to drunk people who’ll forget what you’ve just said, and ask you again in ten minutes anyway.
You don’t owe anyone an explanation.
2. People will assume you’re in recovery, unwell, or pregnant
Why? Because those are still the ‘low-hanging fruit’ of reasons people think we stop/change the way we drink.
What to do: Be bold. Correct their assumptions.
Don’t let other people label your choices for you.
3. People will make it weird by being overly concerned
- “Are you okay? You sure? Do you want to move away from the bar?”
- “Don’t forget everybody, Frankie’s not drinking, don’t get them a drink!”
They mean well. But it’s really bloody overbearing!
What to do: Remind them you don’t need looking after. You’re a grown-up making a grown-up choice, not some fragile woodland creature who needs protecting.
And when they try to speak for you, use your voice and shut it down. If you let it start, it’ll never stop.
4. Somebody will call you “brave” 🤢
This one is a personal bugbear. It’s patronising. It’s awkward. And maybe, just maybe, they don’t even mean it in a nice way.
Your response: “Erm, no. Not really. But thanks.”
It’s not brave to choose to drink differently.
It might be hard, it might be challenging, but it’s not some lone survival expedition to the Andes.
It’s an elderflower and soda. It’s really not a big deal!
5. Someone will definitely say, “Oh, go on, it’s Christmas! Just one won’t hurt.”
Why? It could be that they love you and don’t want you to feel left out.
It could be that they feel judged.
It could be they don’t know what else to say and find your honesty uncomfortable.
What to do: Acknowledge they might be right (people expect you to argue; agreeing throws them off), maybe one won’t hurt. But you still don’t want it anyway.
Smile, decline with confidence, and don’t enter into a debate. If you do, they’ll see it as an opening to convince you otherwise, and you’ll be stuck in that merry-go-round all night.
The Things You Can’t Unsee!
6. You will become boring to drunk people
You’re operating at different speeds. You’re not knee-sliding across the floor or shout-singing down the street. (Though you absolutely can still do mad stuff if you want to.)
What to do: Embrace it, people. There is nothing you can do. Accept it. Find other people to spend time with who are on the same level as you.
And remember that you don’t need drunk people to find you interesting in the middle of a drunk moment.
7. Your tolerance for bullshit will plummet
When you’re clear-headed and they’re not, you’ll hear the same story three times in a row. You’ll notice the slurring, the tangents, the inaccuracies. And at some point, it will become exhausting.
What to do: This isn’t about judgment; it’s about patience, and whether or not you have any.
Lower your expectations. You can’t expect a room full of drunk people to make the same sense as sober ones.
If it’s too much, leave. Find people you can connect with on a more even keel. It’s okay to find drunk people exhausting when you’re not one of them (just ask any night bus driver!)
8. Similarly, you might not like some of your friends when they’re drunk
The really awkward bit, however? It’ll make you think about what you’re really like when you’re sozzled.
What to do: Decide if it matters. Intoxication is just one part of your time with them.
If you don’t want your friends to judge you for not drinking as much, you can’t judge them for when they do.
But maybe make a mental note that ever-so-slightly tipsy George is more fun to you than three-sheets-to-the-wind George, so you can plan better next time. And that’s perfectly okay btw.
9. Some events will be worse when you’re not drinking
I know I’m not supposed to say this. I’m supposed to tell you everything is better sober. But it’s not. Some things are only fun (or funny) when you’re all on the same level, and that level is drunk.
What to do: Try to enjoy their joy. If you love them and they’re happy, be happy for them.
If you’re merely tolerating them, it might just be time to leave. You’re obviously not missing anything.
Feelings (And That Kind of Stuff)
10. You will feel left out at least once
FOMO is real. Alcohol is social glue—we’ve used it that way for centuries. You’ll hear stories you weren’t part of and jokes you don’t find funny.
What to do: Feel it. Notice it. Acknowledge it (ignoring it won’t make it go away).
And know that those feelings will pass. And more importantly, that feeling left out in one moment doesn’t mean you’ve made the wrong choice.
11. Nostalgia is a bitch
Change means loss, even when the change is good.
You might grieve the old version of party season: the random nights out that end up somewhere new, shout-singing the wrong lyrics to The Pogues, the laybacks on the bar.
Some of it was fun… at the time.
What to do: Let yourself feel sad about it. You can miss the old days while still choosing a new way that serves you better in the long run.
Just remember that what you’re grieving is the rosé-tinted spectacle version, not the consequence-laden truth of what sometimes came next.
12. You might feel somewhat self-righteous… check yourself!
You’re making better choices, and you know it.
You swan into the office the morning after the Christmas do, looking fabulous and feeling fire, while everyone else looks and feels like death.
What to do: Feel it. Don’t say it. Don’t be ‘that’ guy.
Internal superiority is fine. External judgment? Not so cool.
The Time Warp
13. Time will move much slower, and you’ll want to leave much earlier
Drunk time moves differently from sober time. It’s a scientific fact (promise).
What to do: Plan for it. Shorter guest star appearances are your friend here. And when you’re done, you’re done.
Don’t drain yourself staying out past your bedtime just to prove you can still be fun while nursing one pint for the entire duration.
14. You’ll be painfully aware of awkward silences
Alcohol smooths social friction. It gives you Dutch courage and weakens the barrier between your mind and your mouth.
What to do: Learn to sit with the discomfort. Part of this process is learning to be comfortable with the uncomfortable.
But if you want some extra help, have a few go-to questions ready that put the onus back on the other person. People love talking about themselves.
If all else fails, say you need a wee and run away.
Dynasty (The Family Dynamics)
15. Your mum will ask if you’re okay approximately 17 times
Her brain goes: “Not drinking = something’s wrong with my precious baby.”
What to do: Reassure her. Once, twice maybe, like a broken record. But don’t overexplain if it’ll come across as defensive. As long as she knows you’re not dying, she’ll eventually calm down.
16. Your dad will make the same “being good” joke every single time.
Why? He likely doesn’t know what else to say. It breaks the tension for him.
What to do: Smile weakly. Change the subject. Resist the urge to snap [his neck].
And if it’s really bugging you, pull him aside later and explain why you’d like him to shut up about it now and just give you your presents.
17. You might be the first person in your family to do this
Generational drinking patterns are powerful. Decades of tradition that say, “This is how we do things in our family.” And here you come, changing all of that.
What to do: Recognise you’re breaking a cycle, and that it’s uncomfortable for them.
Do it respectfully. Don’t preach about the perils of alcohol and try to convert everyone.
But also don’t apologise. Stand your ground. I promise they’ll get over it quicker than you think (you’re not that interesting).
18. You’ll become the default designated everything
Once you announce you’re not drinking [as much], everyone from your Great-grandfather to your sweet baby niece will be looking at you to keep the sanity in check.
What to do: Set boundaries. Don’t say yes when you mean no. You’re not staff, you’re family.
Not drinking to excess doesn’t make you everybody’s parent.
And there you have it.
Eighteen uncomfortable truths about your sober-ish Christmas.
Real-world scenarios, why they happen, and how to deal with them—regardless of the lame jokes, the faux (or real) concern, and the fleeting discomfort it might bring to other people.
You’ve got this. Now go have the festive season you actually want this year, whether that includes booze or not.
And remember there’s still time to sign up for the Mindful Drinking Advent Calendar on the Christmas Hub for free, to help you have a Christmas less intoxicated on your own terms.
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