I did Dry January for the first time — it’s not what people say it is

Where I’m from, the idea of being sober in January is unheard of. I’m from New Zealand, where January is the kick-off for summer and alcohol plays a major part in daily life.

Living in the UK, I’ve learned  Dry January is a massive cultural movement. Millions of people go sober in the first month of the year, and almost all of them will tell you it is the best thing you’ll ever do.  Better sleep, weight loss, increased energy, more money, and an all-around improvement of your life. This is what was promised to me if I went sober for January, and I thought that all sounded pretty good – so this year, I gave it a go.

I’d consider myself to be a relatively heavy drinker — I like to have a drink when I cook dinner, so most nights I’ll have a cider or maybe a rum and ginger ale if I’m feeling indulgent. On the weekend, I can often be found in the pub for a few more.

After my new year’s festivities, I packed away my spirit bottles and got stuck into sobriety. I couldn’t wait to be skinny, dewy-skinned and rich — but sadly, it didn’t work like that. My weight stayed exactly the same, my sleep was as restless as it usually is, my bank account dwindled at the exact same rapid pace it does every other month, and I was still knackered. 

My month off the booze felt absolutely no different to my usual life, except there was no relaxing pint at the end of the day. I explored alcohol free options. I’m not much of a beer drinker, so I got really into Trip CBD drinks and Picoso Spicy sodas. If I wanted to go to the pub, it was a Coke Zero or a Lucky Saint zero alcohol lager with lemonade.

The only change I noticed was a tiny improvement to my skin — if I squinted in the mirror under a strong enough light, I could see my skin tone was a little more even. In the first two weeks, I also noticed how loud the ‘alcohol noise’ in my head was. By that I mean that thoughts of drinking would frequently pop up, and I would have to work a bit to quieten them again.

Walking past my local pub was tricky. In the first two weeks, I didn’t want to go in at all, even for an alcohol free drink. It felt as if it would be impossible to resist a drink. That in itself was enough of a concern for me that I decided to use Dry January as a way to reassess my relationship with alcohol. 

By the end of the month, however, the alcohol noise was completely gone. I didn’t think about drinking at all, and my life went on much the same as it always did — just without drinking.

The month off drinking may not have revolutionised my life or my waistline, but it did give me a valuable insight into the ways that booze had slipped into my lifestyle.

Once the month was over, I had a cider while I cooked dinner, and I was surprised by how boring it felt. I had expected a sense of relief to wash over me now I could drink again, but instead it was rather anti-climactic, which felt like a great improvement. I have no intention to go sober entirely, but I will keep doing Dry January. 

It isn’t the cure-all that it’s cracked up to be, but it was a good way to take a step back and analyse my habits. I had allowed alcohol to become a daily routine, but after a month off, now I feel like I can treat it like what it should be — an occasional celebration.