'I was skeptical about the sober curious movement. Then I spoke to these 6 women.'

I sit squarely in the camp of your body, your choice.

This goes for everything from abortion to plastic surgery, diets to anti-diets, outfits, enhancements, alternative therapies, you name it, I'm good with it if you are.

There's a lot to celebrate when it comes to sobriety's rebrand as not only an acceptable choice, but an all-out trendy one. It creates more inclusive spaces for those who choose not to drink, and it normalises something that has long been met with a culture of eye rolls or comments like, "what's wrong you mate?". And with beer prices set to surge, thanks to climbing inflation rates, now might just be the best possible time to try sobriety on for size.

Side note: Here are just some of the effects after one year without drinking alcohol. Story continues after video.

But something irks me as I lie in bed, doom-scrolling through my Insta-feed past images of happy, glowy influencers holding up alcohol-free beers, with essay-length captions on the harms of alcohol, explaining why I should quit poisoning my body as they have. It's the same internal alarm that sounds whenever I hear talk of 'clean eating', 'clean living' or basically any virtue signaling akin to "my body is a temple" or "try this juice cleanse, it'll eliminate your toxins". I can't help but give an irrepressible eye roll to particularly enthusiastic participants who talk at length about how alcohol is poisoning our society. I bristle at the preachiness, the religiosity of it all, the kind of 'sober-superiority', if you will.

To be clear, I'm not referring to sobriety in response to addiction, I mean the trend that's emerged over the last few years where some who drink socially have decided it's no longer for them. 

The uncomfortable truth is that the pandemic seemed to ramp up our collective drinking habits. According to data from a Roy Morgan alcohol consumption report, the number of Australians who consume alcohol increased in 2021. Similarly, a 2020 report from the ANU showed an increase in the frequency of alcohol consumption due to the pandemic. So, is sober curiosity a much needed course correction? Or is it just the latest holier-than-thou wellness trend? And if so, where does it leave the rest of us? I spoke to six women about their choice to live alcohol-free and boy did I get an education.

Judgment day. 

I was deep into a long-awaited catch-up with a dear friend (who I'm calling Laura), who had just come back from living abroad. In the middle of wrangling my fidgety toddler, our conversation was getting juicy, so I said "hang on, let's book in a night for dinner and drinks! This conversation calls for wine" Laura coolly replied, "Oh, I don't drink. But I'm so in for a night out". 

I felt my face turn a little red. How did I forget she doesn't drink? Does she think I have a drinking problem? 

I discovered the answer to the latter is an emphatic NO, after talking to her for this piece. But almost everyone I spoke with gave me the impression that there are some internal eye rolls happening on their side of the fence as well. "It was always met with curiosity and questions," Laura told me about her choice not to drink socially. "I think it made people uncomfortable."

Shamefully, I think I'm one of those people. My discomfort with the influencers and even my friend at lunch is very telling. It's strange because as a lifelong vegetarian, I am all about aligning what you consume with your personal values. I've developed a skill for artfully dodging those who try to bait me into debates about ethical meat consumption at the dinner table. My discomfort surprises me, because I believe what others do with their bodies has nothing to do with us.

Almost all the women I spoke to shared stories of the judgment they’ve faced while sober in social situations. "I think people take my choice not to drink as a personal attack on their choice to drink", another non-drinker I spoke to called Sam told me.

The health stuff.

Something I noticed repeatedly was a link between sobriety and those choosing to pursue a high level of fitness. I learned my friend Laura has been sober since she was 18 and was always the "odd one out" because of it. "It was also around the time I got big into health and fitness and drinking didn't fit with that," she told me.

"I believe your body doesn't need it," a woman I'm calling Rachel said. "I think not drinking allows your body to be healthier." 

Another non-drinker I spoke to, Teri, echoed these sentiments. 

A woman I'm calling Kate who grew up in a 'very health-conscious family' of non-drinkers shared with me "there is so much evidence from the cancer council linking its consumption to cancer that I find it a worry how often some people drink and the amount that’s consumed."

She's not wrong. The cancer council cites convincing evidence of a link between alcohol consumption and various cancer risks. And this shouldn't be taken lightly. That said, a lot of things increase our overall cancer risk to varying degrees, including sun exposure, ageing, certain viruses and even hormones and we need to be cautious of how much of this we blame on individual lifestyle choices.

Born again.

"I think I started to view alcohol as demonic," Laura told me towards the end of our chat. "A poisonous toxin that could ruin my insides."

There it was. That silent alarm that the teetotal influencers I saw on my Insta feed had previously triggered. Is this what I was detecting in their sober-happy sermons? A hint of moral superiority? Just another thing to add to my list of all I do wrong in the eyes of 'wellness' culture? She went on, "I think it wrapped my identity up in someone who avoids putting dangerous stuff in their body" and I have to say, I could relate.

I have felt that way about countless things in the past, and I'm still working hard to navigate a new path through the messy world of wellness.

I learned a lot of speaking to these six amazing women from different backgrounds and age groups who generously shared their experiences with me. I think like many social movements, a subsection of it has become the latest champion of the wellness industry superiority complex. But it's also an incredibly important and necessary step in the destruction of some pretty toxic cultural beliefs around how we celebrate, connect and enjoy our lives. As Kate said, "it's great to see influencers speaking about sobriety as it hopefully normalises being able to have fun without alcohol to others, especially youth".

I now have to say I wholeheartedly agree.

Listen to Fill My Cup, a well-being show hosted by self-described witch Allira Potter who will give you practical tools to improve your week. Story continues after podcast.

I've always considered myself a 'moderate' drinker, indulging in a social context and never feeling a loss of control around the substance. I've always thought I had a positive relationship with alcohol, but lately, I'm wondering if there even is such a thing.

I do look forward to a glass of wine at the end of my day. Is this problematic? I don't know. Maybe? I might pour myself a virgin something-or-other and contemplate.

Feature Image: Canva/Mamamia.