Issy's story: "Alcohol had stolen precious years from my life and my parent's."

As the child of an alcoholic, I swore as a 14 year old, with a newly sober parent, that I would never follow the same path. Alcohol had stolen precious years from my life and my parent's, not to mention a lot of my trust. Little did I know that only seven years later, I would find myself in rehab at the tender age of 21. [Editor’s note: You can read more about the language used to talk about drinking problems, including the word ‘alcoholic’, here.]

There I was, having celebrated my 22nd birthday in a treatment centre, venturing back out into the world as a sober woman and fully aware that I was about to face a society that expected me to drink.

How on earth would I navigate friendships, dating, sex, workplace socialising, emotional upheaval, birthdays, parties, my own wedding? All these events where, in my mind, alcohol was the central figure…the lead character. I believed it had made me a fun, jovial, sociable human being—which, looking back now, is hilarious. Because alcohol was no longer my friend but a dastardly foe. It had destroyed my five-year relationship, cost me my job, and led to continued self-humiliation. My mental health and nerves were obliterated. It had in fact made me a worse version of myself rather than an improved one and yet I still had this belief in my core that without it I was boring, most of which had come from the general consensus in the world around me that alcohol makes us more fun. This was so far from the truth it was laughable.

This narrative also stopped me getting help sooner. I think I had known since I was 18 that I had a problem. But when I tried to call myself out a few times to people around me, I was sometimes dismissed as too young to have a drinking problem. I was told it was just what young people do, that I would grow out of it, that partying and huge mistakes were expected of me at this age.

I am passionate about the mental health of young people being taken seriously and dismantling the idea that ‘youth’ means you cannot suffer from dependency issues. I've met so many people in recovery who wished they had quit in their twenties but felt they couldn't at the time because they feared being considered weird and were terrified of facing an alcohol-normative world at that stage of life. If we normalise and destigmatise not drinking or drinking more moderately for young people, maybe more will get help sooner and save themselves years of suffering.

I’m so pleased to report that my twenties were packed full of fun, joy, and excitement, and the beautiful thing is, I got to know my true, authentic self on a much deeper level because of my sobriety. When I was a drinker, I ran from emotions, avoided uncomfortable social situations, ignored my insecurities, relationship issues, and responsibilities by pasting over them with alcohol. My confidence was manufactured in a bottle, my emotions suppressed with it, and my connection to self was incredibly stunted. Once the alcohol was removed, I was forced to face myself—and I'm so glad I did because now I'm more authentically and unashamedly myself. My confidence is overflowing, and I’ve had to do the healing work because I’ve had nowhere to hide. Do I still get social anxiety? Sure, I do. But socialising is a skill that, in my humble opinion, needs to be practised.

There have been many moments in the last nine and a bit years that have been difficult to navigate. The UK loves its alcohol, and there are not many days when I'm not faced with reminders of that. Whether it be judgment and questions from others over the years, ranging from mild curiosity and probing all the way to aggressive peer pressuring, alcoholic gifts, cards, slogans, jokes, assumptions of pregnancy due to the water in my hand, a lack of alcohol-free offerings, people accidentally giving me alcoholic versions of drinks and life events that we associate with a booze coming at me from every direction such as weddings, birthdays, funerals and hen dos to name just a few.

However, in more recent years, I've also seen the sobriety movement boom and become louder, which has been fantastic. We've seen alcohol-free drinks become a market to be excited by, celebrities opt for a sober lifestyle and talk about it with pride, groups and communities springing up, more sober influencers, and most importantly, the erosion of the notion that sobriety is not cool. Loving yourself is cool, assessing your relationship with anything to ensure it's in a healthy place is cool, making sure something is adding to your life rather than taking from it is cool, and being able to have fun without relying on alcohol is the coolest of the cool, in my opinion. Sober people are brave and badass.

There may be difficult moments, but I'm so grateful for my life. It’s not only possible to navigate this world without alcohol, you can have a life beyond your wildest dreams and be happy whilst doing it. It’s a journey, and a long one at that, but you are so worth the work and perseverance.