Thanks, But No Thanks

you shouldn't have to explain why you don't drink

I am not a drinker. The only alcohol I’ve had in the past four and half years has been a small glass of eggnog and rum over Christmas and I had to lie down after three sips because my body revolted against it. I gave up drinking when my husband decided to get sober in August 2016 because to drink while he was fighting for sobriety seemed disrespectful. I also needed to stop for reasons of my own. When your social drinking becomes “drinking to get drunk,” it’s time.

I had my bouts with heavy drinking. Sometimes I would drink to shut out feelings. Sometimes I would drink to make myself more social. Sometimes I just wanted to alter my world enough so that it felt like I was somewhere else. I don’t look back fondly on any of those times and I choose not to ever engage in that behavior again. Giving up drinking for my husband was an easy out. Giving up drinking because I was bad at it was a little harder to digest.

At first it was hard to say “I don’t drink,” or “no thank you” when someone offered me alcohol. Whether it was a family gathering or a work happy hour or just a dinner out with friends, I felt weird saying no to that glass of wine or beer, or not joining in when it was time to do shots. I felt weird because people made me feel that way. They questioned why I was drinking only club soda. They made fun of me for hanging back during shots. Drinking is such a part of our social culture that to not do so draws attention, and it was attention I didn’t want and did not deserve.

“Why aren’t you drinking” is a loaded question and the answer to it should be simple: none of your goddamn business. But we are a polite society and we don’t answer even probing questions like that. Instead, we stammer, we pause, we blush as we are put on the spot. It’s not anyone’s business that my husband is in recovery and I would not do him the disservice of telling people about it every time I am asked why I don’t drink. But in those early days, I felt compelled to have an excuse, as if not drinking alcohol was a faux pas and I had to make amends for it. My mind would come up with all kinds of things to tell them, and I always landed on “I just don’t feel like it,” as if it were a temporary thing and not something I’ve made part of my lifestyle.

The onus should not be on non-drinkers to explain why they don’t drink. It should be on everyone else to just not ask the question at all. When someone declines alcohol, the immediate response should be “can I get you something else instead?” But more often than not, a simple “no thank you” is met with incredulity, raised eyebrows, and a push for information that other people don’t have a right to.

Society makes it so that the default switch is set to drinking. It’s expected of people. At parties, at work functions, at dinner. When a waitress asks me what I will have to drink, I say “just a club soda” as if she was expecting me to order beer or wine; I’m constantly on the defensive when out. I’m hyper aware of the people around me, the trays of beer making their way from the bar to the tables, the pouring of wine, the blender making concoctions that at one time I would have gladly ordered. I feel the disappointment of the waitress as she realizes the bill is going to be a bit less because we’re just having soda. It’s just one of the many ways I feel like I disappoint people when I don’t partake in drinking and that’s a pretty sad way to feel. We’re programmed to think alcohol is good and fun and necessary and the people who eschew it are made to feel like social outcasts, or that they’re bringing down the vibe of a night out. So they’re probed about it, asked to feed the curiosity of those who subscribe to the thinking that there’s something off about you if you don’t drink.

I don’t know why people feel like it’s ok to ask why someone doesn’t drink. I don’t know why they feel entitled to that information, why they feel they can demand justification for anyone’s desire to remain sober. If you are a person who does this, please rethink this. It’s awkward and demeaning and antagonistic. At least that’s how it feels to us. Do not try to cajole us or bully us into having a drink. Do not say “just one drink won’t kill you,” or “soda is for babies,” or “you’re no fun,” which are all things I have heard. Respect people’s choices, respect their words, respect their dignity. Don’t force them to give you an excuse, to tell you their history, to give any reason whatsoever for declining that Budweiser.

There are a lot of reasons people don’t drink: alcoholism, health issues, diet, religion, or maybe the just have no desire to do something that will alter their thinking. Whatever it is, it’s not your business. It’s not something people should be put on the spot about. Every conversation about it should go like this:

“Can I offer you a drink?”
"No, thank you.”
“Okay.”

End of story.

I’ll probably never go back to drinking; I like sober life, I don’t miss hangovers, and my husband will always be in recovery. I’m used to it after almost five years. But what I will never, ever get used to is people prying into my or my husband’s personal lives when we turn down a drink. Don’t pry. Don’t ask. We don’t really want to - or have to - tell.