At 11:52 PM on December 31, 2018, I had my last drink of alcohol. Not for forever, but at least for now: I was attempting my first Dry January, a completely booze-free time in the first month of the year. Gulping my last sip of spiked punch, I eyed the countdown clock with nervous anticipation: Could I pull this off?

After 31 consecutive days sans alcohol — spoiler alert, I did it! — here’s the good, the bad, and the ugly of my Dry January experience.

What the @#$! is Dry January?

Dry January as we know it originated in the United Kingdom as a public health campaign advocating that people abstain from alcohol during January. The charity Alcohol Concern (now called Alcohol Change UK) held the first Dry January campaign in January 2013.

Interestingly, the Finns actually beat them to the idea: Finland started a Sober January program in 1942 as part of the war effort against the Soviet Union. That’s over 75 years ago!

Today, people choose to forego alcohol for the first 31 days of the year for a variety of reasons, from detoxing their bodies to simply saving money.

So Why Did I Decide to Do Dry January?

I mean, Dry January sounds like temporary booze blog suicide, right? In the words of my immortal blogger friend (who sips beer at a snail’s pace, by the way): “What the heck is Dry January? That sounds wretched.”

On the surface, it was about weight loss. Since launching this blog in 2016, I’ve drunk my way across the world, from Guinness in Ireland and sake in Japan to zinfandel in Lodi, California. Cutting out alcohol for a month, I reasoned, could be a quick and easy way to lose pounds. My abstinence had a precedent of sorts, too: I had successfully completed a New Year’s resolution to go without soda for a whole year in 2008.

But I also realized that alcohol is present at every social event I attend. In New York City especially, alcohol tends to pervade our social calendars, from post-work happy hours to boozy brunches. And if I’m being honest, deep down I’ve found myself wondering, is it the booze that makes me charming? Can I socialize without it? And, most importantly, why am I drinking in the first place?

The time had come, the walrus said, to examine what my life could be like without booze. Here’s what I discovered after 31 days without alcohol.

Need some Dry January reading inspo?
During Dry January, I read Sober Curious by Ruby Warrington. A few parts are a little “new age-y” for my taste, but overall, this book got me to think critically about what I was drinking and why. It’s not preachy and offers practical tips for going booze-free.

Pro: I Slept Like The Dead.

One of the most immediate effects I noticed after starting Dry January was that the quality of my sleep improved dramatically. In fact, I could see a difference after Day 3 of Getting Way Better Sleep. I was happier, more energized, and less likely to get annoyed at our cats for howling for their evening wet food. (Trust me, 5 PM in our house isn’t pretty.)

Not only did I sleep longer — since I wasn’t out at bars, I went to bed earlier — but it was way less of a struggle to wake up at 7 AM. Truthfully, I’ll never be a morning person, but after Dry January, I could finally get my butt out of bed after my first alarm clock went off. Major win.

Con: Too Many Nightly Desserts.

Without alcohol, I found myself craving sugar with surprising intensity. Whereas I’d consumed a grand total of two desserts in the past three months (seriously), in January, cookies and chocolate nefariously made their way into our cupboard. Everywhere I turned, another piece of baklava or pint of ice cream taunted me mercilessly, begging to be consumed. I’m telling you, sugar is just relentless.

I gave in more times than I’d care to admit to these nightly desserts, though my resolve grew stronger by the month’s end. Ultimately, I had a net loss of 4 pounds on February 1 — not too shabby — but imagine how much more I could have lost if I’d been able to curb my sugar intake!

Pro: My Personality Is Pretty Much The Same Without Booze…

I was kind of terrified that without booze, I’d be more boring than watching paint dry. I was convinced that a glass of pinot noir or a craft cocktail was just what I needed to relax, be engaging, and convince strangers to be my new BFFs.

But you know what? During the majority of my social situations in January, I was able to draw on my energy and make small talk just fine. It was an epiphany for me: growing up, I did musical theater and was able to “turn on” an outgoing personality whenever the situation called for it (without booze, obviously), so why couldn’t I do the same thing twenty years later?

Of course I could do it all along — I just never gave myself enough credit. If nothing else, Dry January gave me the confidence to go into social situations knowing that I didn’t NEED booze to be myself.

Con: …But There Were Still Awkward Moments.

I’m quieter by nature: I’m not going to be the life of the party (unless maybe I’ve had a few beers), and I tend to recharge alone. So it’s no surprise that not all of my Dry January social interactions knocked it out of the park.

At one group dinner, I introduced myself to a stranger and our conversation soon grew stilted after a few exchanges. After the “Where are you from?” conversation well dried up, we found that we didn’t have anything in common.

Normally, Tipsy Me would casually gloss over this lull in conversation as a mere inconvenience and move on — or excuse myself to get another drink. Sober Me, however, could not stop obsessing about what to say next and why things just didn’t feel natural. Lingering in these uncomfortable pauses will probably get easier with practice, but damn, it’s been a while since I’ve felt more awkward than two middle schoolers trying to slow dance.

Pro: Bartenders Are Upping Their Booze-Free Drink Options

After ordering ginger beer on my first two outings, I wanted to try something different. With soda out of the picture and water seeming too plain, I decided to dive headfirst into the world of (for lack of a better word) “mocktails.”

Though I felt self-conscious about ordering mocktails at first, the bartenders I interacted with quickly made me feel at ease. Some, like the guys at Subject in NYC’s Lower East Side, took it on as a challenge and made drinks that were quite impressive. Other places, like Leyenda in Brooklyn, even had whole menus devoted to booze-free Dry January options.

In fact, bartenders seem to be stepping up their booze-free drinks game in NYC. Case in point: Reception Bar in NYC’s Lower East Side has a menu of “elixirs” alongside alcoholic drinks. For $10, you can try tasty booze-free drinks like “Queen Min’s Botanics,” a mixture of white lotus, ginseng honey, sparkling jasmine, and egg white which is said to “increase immunity-building antibodies.”

Con: When You’re Sober, People At Bars Can (Appear To) Be Pretty Absurd

I don’t mean everybody is awful or idiotic when they’re drinking. But things that I probably ignored before when a glass of bourbon was in my hand suddenly became way more glaringly apparent.

Twice, I was out at the bars until 2 AM with friends while stone cold sober. Twice, drunk friends wouldn’t stop talking to a bartender despite obvious signs that said bartender was not interested. In fact, one friend got embarrassingly belligerent, and I had to intervene. I shot the bartender an “I’m so sorry for my friend’s appalling behavior” look, and his shoulders sagged with the weight of a thousand drunken morons.

Without beer goggles, I was suddenly more attuned to Embarrassingly Bad Bar Behavior. From Oversharing Olivias to Sobbing Scotts, I witnessed the whole spectrum of drunken behaviors in January. Some behaviors were innocuous, like a friend asking the same question five times in a row. Others were obnoxious, like oblivious couples getting too handsy or people trying to eat fruit at the bar that was meant for garnishing drinks. (Just — Ew. No.)

Seeing all of this, I realized that I *probably* was wittier in my own head compared to real life at bars sometimes. But hey, better late to recognize it than never, right?

So What Happened on February 1?

I almost forgot to have a drink.

Not that I actually *needed* one, but I had planned to try a beer just to see what would happen. You know, for research purposes for my Dry January experiment. When I actually ordered my beer at the end of my meal, it turned out my tolerance was so low that I had to quit halfway through!

So would I do Dry January again? Maybe. But I think the important work has already been accomplished: my mindset, and my long-term relationship with alcohol, has changed. I’m sipping on tea at night instead of a nightcap. I don’t feel the need to reach for a drink when socializing gets awkward. And I’m fine stopping at a glass of wine instead of having three drinks at a fancy restaurant.

In sum: I’d say my Dry January experiment was worthwhile indeed.

Tips for Dry January

Planning to try Dry January, or just want to go without alcohol for a while? Kudos to you! Here are some tips that might help with your experience:

• Figure out WHY you want to do it. Sure, weight loss can be a goal, but we all know that diets don’t work. So Dry January should be about something deeper. Want to gain clarity on your relationship to alcohol? Want to see if your mood or energy will improve? Why you participate is up to you, but think about it as a long-term change instead of 31 days.
• If you have a habit of reaching for a drink, find a replacement. Whether it’s tea, water, or ginger beer, if it’s become a routine to reach for a drink at the end of the day, have a drink — just make it non-alcoholic.
• If you do have a drink during Dry January, it’s not the end of the world. Don’t beat yourself up about it! The important thing is that you’re trying. Get back up on the saddle and finish out the month. You got this!
• Find an accountability buddy. I personally used the Dry January app to track my drink-free days, which I responded well to because I love data and visual reminders of my progress. If apps aren’t your jam, try finding a friend or two to do it with you and check in with each other at the end of each week.
• Celebrate your success on February 1. And guess what? If you don’t want to have a drink on February 1, then don’t! Celebrate your achievement in whatever way works for you.

→ Have you ever done Dry January? How did it go? Share your experiences and tips in the comments below!