Let me breakdown my first year of university for you: Rock City, occasional trips to the library, pres at ‘Spoons, rushed coursework, and hazy memories of nights out.
The lessons I learnt that year didn’t come from a lecture or seminar. They came from self-reflection of how I’d fallen so far from the standards I expected to hold myself to, all for an “unforgettable” night out that was instantly forgotten under the influence of alcohol.
Like many, I fell for the illusion of university drinking culture. And so, a new version of myself emerged – one that I still cringe at whenever I think back to my first year. With the need to fit in and keep up with the people I had surrounded myself with, the vast majority of my social life consisted of pub crawls, pres and clubbing. Oh, and who can forget the famous Crisis nights out and pub golf? No matter how hard I tried, I could not escape the enticing indulgence of alcohol and a drunk night out.
Now that’s not to say that there are only activities involving drinking available at university. Most societies do have socials such as movie nights and cafe meet ups, however these are not as advertised as clubbing and bar socials. Remember: about 90% of societies at UoN will be at the barrier for Crisis and are most likely to be off their face (how else can you cope with the recurring playlist every week?) It’s also not to say that every student who comes to university with the intent of not drinking will succumb to peer pressure or force themselves to have a drink to please other people.
However, living with flatmates who enjoyed getting drunk on a night out and being friends with people who never knew their limit had more of a negative influence than I had realised at the time. First year flew by and when final grades were released over the summer, I finally realised just how badly I’d neglected studying in favour of nights out over attending lectures. The one thing running through my mind was “I need to change now”.
I spent the rest of summer self-reflecting on who I’d become, and to be completely honest, I was ashamed. I’d prided myself on my high expectations, whether it was for school, work or the people I was close to, and I’d abandoned it all in a year that I could barely remember. Second year was spent with a better focus on my studies whilst still enjoying the occasional pub trip, and by the end I was convinced that I could fully abandon drinking in time for my final year.
At the start of my final year, I made the decision to go fully sober in the hopes that I could dedicate all my energy to school, preparing for post-uni life, and working on my best self. Most of my friends couldn’t understand why I’d decided that being sober was the way for me. “But it’s our last year”, “just drink actual alcohol if you’re going to drink alcohol-free” or “you’re not serious” were the common reactions when I told my friends, and whilst I questioned it, I could understand why they’d react like that. It was such a change for them to see me being serious about sobriety when they’d met me in a year where I was never not drinking when we saw each other.
The one reaction that got to me in a way I hadn’t expected was when one of my friends said to me, “you’ll never stick to that, let’s see how long it lasts” before letting out a laugh and moving on to another topic. Being sober at university wasn’t such a strange concept – after all, there were many people I knew who had managed to get through their whole university life without touching alcohol. And yet, the idea appeared ridiculous when I was the sober individual, and it made me question if my friends truly didn’t think I could stick to sobriety.
So, I made the decision to prove them wrong. My nights out would consist of preing on alcohol-free Kopparberg and Old Mout before heading to the club, where I would inevitably leave within the first hour or two to go home and cuddle up in bed with another episode of Gilmore Girls. Through it all, I’d hear “oh wait, you’re being serious about this”, or be asked “are you sure you don’t want a drink?”, and “what’s it going to take for you to get drunk tonight?” After a few months, my friends’ comments had quickly died down as they realised just how dedicated I was to being sober, yet those comments shouldn’t have been uttered the first time I told them of my choice.
It has only been a few short months since I’ve embarked on this sobriety journey, and there are a number of lessons I’ve taken from this time so let me share some of them with you.
- You should never feel obligated to have a drink on a friend’s behalf nor do you owe them an explanation for your choice. If they continuously question your choice to not drink or they pressure you to abandon that choice (no matter how subtle the pressure may be), they are not the right friends for you. No friends should ever make you feel uncomfortable for a decision you’ve made for your own benefit.
- Try alcohol-free alternatives. I was always one to enjoy a cheeky pint of Strongbow or Old Mout at the pub, but going for the alcohol-free range was one of my best decisions. They still make you feel like you’re involved with the drinking aspect of socialising, except you get the benefit of escaping the inevitable morning hangover.
- Go to the non-drinking socials for societies. Most of the societies I’m part of have cafe socials or movie nights which are amazing opportunities to get know to other people without the pressure to drink alcohol. I’ve made new friends through these socials who are on the same sobriety path as myself, and supporting each other on our journeys has made it much easier.
- Don’t worry about fitting in with the crowd. Personal decisions should not be affected by the decision to conform to the social standard (especially at university). Most of the time, people are taken up with their own nights to notice if you’re drinking or not, and if they do, never let their reaction hinder your personal growth.
Whilst first-year me would be shocked by the person I am today, I have never been more proud of my personal development over the last year. Reflecting on my university life so far, I’ve realised that my wellbeing and personal standards should never be compromised by the human instinct to conform. Yes, drinking has been and always be a staple of university life, and it’s not going anywhere any time soon, but it isn’t mandatory. Some may call sobriety in university boring, but I call it refreshing. Sobriety gave me so much clarity on who I want to be and the path I want to take – I don’t need a drink to find my people nor do I need it to be the life of the party.