I’ve been told there are others like me, and the trick was just to find them. I’ve been told that the decisions I make are great, admirable even, yet at the same time I’ve been told I am not “normal” because of them.
I am a sophomore in college, and I do not drink alcohol.
The small school I attend, Western New England University, is far from a dry one. There’s usually some type of party happening any given weekend, and casual nights in tend to consist of sharing a few drinks with roommates and other friends. As is the case with most colleges, socializing and drinking go hand in hand.
I never drank in high school, but I was open to the possibility of it once I graduated, since a drinking atmosphere was sure to be more prevalent in college. After all, isn’t that what college is all about? A constant flow of parties with a few classes thrown in on the side? Or at least that’s what 18 years of pop culture led me to believe.
As an athlete on the university tennis team, my first two months at school were devoted entirely to the demand of being in season, which included abiding by team rules to refrain from drinking until the season ended. During that time, I witnessed friends who I thought were mellow and laid-back during the week transform into nuisances on the weekend because they were so inebriated. I’ve dealt with friends struggling to climb onto lofted beds, friends being overly friendly without realizing it and even my roommate getting sick in the room after needing assistance to come back in the early hours of the morning.
On top of that, I heard countless other horror stories of people who drank one too many. While not uncommon for college freshmen, I knew of friends getting sick in their dorm hallway and getting written up for disciplinary action. Although I had the rest of the semester to drink if I wanted to, the examples I had seen sent me in the opposite direction completely. When people spent every weekend getting sick, nursing a hangover and acting in ways they’d later regret or not even remember, I thought to myself, “What could possibly be so great about drinking?” I had no interest in harming my body just to fit into the cultural mold of a stereotypical college student.
Sure, I’ve gone to parties and found myself tempted to give in. Who wouldn’t be? When herds of people are pounding beers and tossing back umpteen shots, being the lone sober person among the crowd seems to scream “social outcast” to everyone participating. The sole fear of not fitting in provides as much temptation as a girl could need, since it has become an unwritten rule that college students must not only drink, but drink a lot. It also did not help matters when at every party I kept getting bombarded with incessant offerings of beer, vodka or anything else available.
Saying “no” was not difficult at the first offer of a drink, but when I had to explain multiple times throughout a single hour that I wasn’t drinking, I considered joining the crowd simply to comply with the wishes of those around me. Alcohol made everyone around me loud and rowdy, and for someone who isn’t exactly an extrovert, I found this annoying and hard to tolerate while sober. Again, it made me consider just giving in and have a drink to eliminate the fuss of the crowd. But just because that would be the easier decision to make didn’t mean it was best for me.
When faced with peer pressure, I force myself to remember the bigger, more personal reason why saying “no” is a better option for me: alcoholism is no stranger to my family. I have several relatives battling it, and there is nothing scarier than watching a loved one change into an entirely different person because of alcohol. To see someone you look up to and respect quickly shed this persona results in a blend of emotions: confusion, disappointment, frustration. The thought of this alone deters me from alcohol more than anything. Knowing that I’m susceptible to this disease just because it’s in my family history is alarming, and if I can do anything in my power to keep it from harming me, I will. If this includes being classified in a certain way that separates me from the majority of the campus population, so be it.
Most, if not all, of my friends drink to some extent on the weekends. The average amount they consume ranges anywhere from two beers to a number of shots in the double digits. This doesn’t mean I judge them for it. I’m not naive, and I know that alcohol is going to play a prominent role on campus until I receive a diploma. Since I moved to school, the most valuable lesson I’ve learned is how to be independent. I have no desire in controlling each of my friends who go out drinking, nor do I want to lecture and preach to them why I am against it, because they have a right to their independence and can do as they wish. Some may never understand why I choose sobriety over intoxication, and they don’t have to. All that matters is that I know who I want to be, and I will stand my ground.
I can’t say for sure if I will drink once I am 21, but if I do, I will make sure I do it responsibly and in a way I feel comfortable with. In the three semesters I’ve been at college, I have not touched a drop of alcohol, and I could not be more pleased to say so. When it comes to my decision to not drink, I’ve been told many things. But the most important thing I’ve learned is to stay true to myself.
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