There’s a particular kind of awkward that comes with deciding to go sober while your nearest and dearest are still treating every social occasion like a warm-up for Glastonbury.
Alcohol Change UK Ambassadors and They Think It’s All Sober podcast hosts Tom and Jamie talk to us about their experiences of being alcohol-free when others they’re close to still drink. Get their views and top tips below.
“You’ve made the decision, be it for your health, sanity, or because you finally admitted that “just one pint” always ends in Jägerbombs, a 3am phone call and shame, but now you’re faced with the real challenge: people.”
Specifically, your people. Your mates, your family, your colleagues at the office party. The ones who think moderation is a myth and believe “going dry” is what happens when the pub runs out of Stella before football.
“So how do you navigate this brave new world of sobriety when everyone around you is still gleefully chucking booze down their necks like it’s a sport?”
Allow us, Jamie and Tom, of They Think It’s All Sober, to guide you!
Let go of the idea that anyone will understand
Honestly, the sooner you accept that some people are going to look at your sobriety with the same confusion as they’d look at someone who enjoys plain rice, the better.
“For most Brits , drinking isn’t just a habit, it’s a cultural cornerstone, somewhere between sarcasm and queueing. We are VERY good at it, or so we think.”
So, when you say you’re not drinking, even temporarily, people may react like you’ve announced you’re becoming a monk, moving to a cave, and renouncing crisps.
And that’s fine.
“Because here’s the truth: you don’t need them to understand. You just need them to respect it. Whether it’s a lifestyle shift, a mental health decision, or you’re just tired of waking up with the Sunday Scaries and a traffic cone in your bed - it’s valid. End of.”
We have found on the whole, that everyone around us has been truly supportive, but not everyone is as lucky as us and that’s what we want to address in this article.
Have a line (not one of those)
You will be asked. Again and again and again. Sometimes with concern. Often with suspicion. Always with just a little bit of disbelief.
“Why aren’t you drinking?”
You don’t owe them your entire origin story. No need to launch into a monologue about your wild uni years or the emotional clarity you found after that weekend in Berlin.
Pick a line and rehearse it like it’s your Oscar speech.
Our favourites:
- “I’ve retired from drinking. Went out on a high.”
- “Drinking? Completed it mate.”
- “It just wasn’t working for me.”
Say it with a smile and a tone that suggests you are not taking questions. Most people will move on. The persistent ones can be gently ignored, or, walk away!
The “Just One” crew
Ah yes. The well-meaning mate or overly enthusiastic aunt who insists, “Just one won’t hurt!”
They’re not trying to ruin your life. They’re trying to drag you back into the comforting realm of shared chaos. Your sobriety unsettles them, not because they think you’re judging them, but because it forces them to reflect on their own choices. And reflection, let’s be honest, is best avoided after five pints. We call this the mirror theory…no-one wants you to hold a mirror up to them and make them face their own crushing reality.
Here’s the key: don’t argue, and don’t get preachy. Nothing makes people dig their heels in more than feeling judged, especially when they're three drinks deep and clutching a lukewarm Smirnoff Ice at 2am listening to the (brilliant) hits of Jason Derulo.
“A simple “Nah, I’m good” with the confidence of someone who’s already had dessert will usually suffice.”
Redraw the social map (subtly)
If all your social time with friends revolves around pubs, drinking games, or being unable to hear each other over basslines, it’s worth getting a bit strategic.
You don’t have to abandon your mates and take up solo pottery (unless you want to, in which case, crack on). But it’s okay to steer the hangouts in a slightly different direction.
Suggest things that don’t scream “pre-drinking mandatory.” A walk followed by a coffee. A pub lunch instead of a Friday night blowout. A film. Bowling. Anything where being sober doesn’t make you feel like the outsider.
“Yes, your mates might grumble at first. But honestly? They’ll probably enjoy the break.”
Deep down, everyone’s just one oat milk flat white away from admitting they’re tired too.
Brace yourself for family functions
Nowhere tests your resolve like a family party. There’s always an uncle who’s had six pints before 4pm, and at least one cousin who insists on discussing crypto after two glasses of prosecco.
You show up, sober, hoping to enjoy the buffet and make a swift exit. Within five minutes, someone’s handing you a drink “just to hold”, and someone else is asking if you’ve “gone weird.”
This is where the true zen of sobriety kicks in.
Smile. Nod. Pour yourself something fizzy and non-alcoholic that looks boozy (a lime and soda in a gin glass is pure social camouflage, or for me, I am now so ‘give a f*** that I’m married to a Coke Zero can at this point). Then mentally detach and observe the carnage. You’re no longer a participant. You’re an anthropologist. A David Attenborough of the drunks, observing their weird rituals through a clear, and regret-free lens.
You’ll be amazed how funny, predictable, and downright bizarre people are once you’re sober enough to notice.
Eventually, it changes
Here’s the thing no one tells you at the start: the people who laughed at your sobriety? Some of them will eventually come to you quietly and say, “I’ve been thinking about cutting down too.”. THIS WILL HAPPEN WAY MORE THAN YOU COULD EVER IMAGINE.
You’ll become the go-to person for hangover-free wisdom. You’ll be the one they text after another messy night out with a sheepish “how do you do it?”
“Your family will get used to it. Your mates will stop offering you shots. Some might even join you for a sober night, surprised to discover it was actually a laugh.”
Over time, you stop feeling like the odd one out. You’re just... the one who remembers everything and doesn’t spend Sundays wrapped in a duvet burrito of existential despair. (Albeit I still have to watch West Ham regularly lose!).
And Finally: Let yourself be smug (just a bit)
You don’t need to bang on about it. You don’t need to make everyone around you feel bad. But you are allowed to enjoy the benefits.
Clear skin? Yes. More money? Absolutely. Mornings without nausea and dread? Delicious.
You’re the designated driver, the secret-keeper, the calm in the storm. You’ve entered a whole new level of adulthood, and it’s strangely liberating.
“So let your mates drink. Let your family carry on as they do. You’re not here to convert anyone. You’re just quietly opting out of the hangovers, the blurry nights, and the guilt-laced kebab wrappers (although, a sober kebab is 100% my guilty pleasure!).”
And if anyone has a problem with it? Well, offer them a sip of your sparkling water and move on.
You’re sober. Not sorry.
You can find more from Tom and Jamie through listening to their podcast, They Think It's All Sober, or checking out their Instagram.