Sober Curious? 10 Honest Answers to Questions About Sobriety
This post is dedicated to a dear friend whose questions about sobriety and my personal journey on the other side of alcohol and cannabis addiction inspired me to finally write it all down.
If you’ve got questions about sobriety, you’re not alone—and you’re definitely in the right place. Sometimes when people find out that I’m sober, the questions start rolling in. Most of them are about alcohol—how I quit, whether I still go to parties, what I drink instead (spoiler: ice water with actual ice, because I’m American and that’s just how we roll). But the truth is, my sobriety story isn’t just about alcohol. For me, cannabis was also part of the picture—and part of the problem.
Because alcohol is so deeply woven into our culture, it tends to be the focus of most sober-curious conversations. But I’ve done my best to weave in my experience with cannabis throughout this post too, because it played a major role in my journey. This is a Q&A-style deep dive into the ten questions I get asked the most about sobriety—with honest answers, a touch of humour, and zero judgment.
Whether you’re navigating your own path, supporting someone you love, or just feeling a little curious—you’re welcome here. 💛
🙅♀️ Why did you decide to stop drinking (and using cannabis)?
I’ve always been prone to addiction. I can remember being around seven or eight years old, slipping on a pair of those big IMAX glasses and feeling completely mesmerised by how they altered my perception. It gave me a sensation I couldn’t quite describe—something otherworldly—and I spent years chasing that same feeling. Unfortunately, I eventually found it again, far more intensely, in drugs and alcohol.
I’ll go into more of my backstory another time, but the short version is this: from about age thirteen to thirty-three (yep, that’s a whole two decades), I battled various addictions—including alcohol and cannabis. For me, drinking wasn’t about loosening up at parties (though, yes, I overdid it plenty of times). It was more about silencing my brain and softening the sharp edges of the world. In fact, I often volunteered to be the designated driver as “proof” I didn’t have a problem. But the truth? My drinking was at its worst when I was home alone with nothing but my thoughts.
Deep down, I always knew alcohol wasn’t serving me. But it wasn’t until my oldest son was a bit over a year old that something really began to shift. We’d just come out of Canberra’s second COVID lockdown, and like a lot of people, the lines around “socially acceptable” drinking had started to blur. Our alcohol intake had crept up, and so had the shame that followed. The anxiety and self-loathing I felt after drinking became unbearable, and I realised with absolute clarity that I didn’t want to raise a child in a home where alcohol held that kind of power.
So, when my son was fourteen months old—on the day before my husband’s birthday, and without even realising it at the time—I had my last drink.
My relationship with cannabis lingered a while longer. I tried to convince myself it was a safer alternative—and in many ways, I still believe cannabis doesn’t belong in the same category as alcohol when it comes to physical harm. Alcohol is undeniably toxic to the body. Cannabis doesn’t carry the same physiological toll, and I genuinely believe it can have a medicinal place when used with professional guidance. I also know plenty of people who use it recreationally without issue.
But for me? It was still about escape. Cannabis gave me the same dopamine rush, the same numbing effect, and ultimately served the same purpose as alcohol: keeping me from sitting with myself. And that wasn’t the life I wanted. I wasn’t striving for a life of “just less harmful” coping mechanisms—I wanted peace, clarity, and contentment in my own skin.
In hindsight, I wish I’d understood more about how dopamine, serotonin, and the brain’s reward system worked. I probably would’ve quit both alcohol and cannabis at the same time—and yes, it’s absolutely doable. If you’re in a similar place, I hope I can offer some insight, encouragement, and helpful resources so you can make the call that feels right for you—whether it’s one step at a time or all in, all at once.
🤯 Was it hard to quit?
Quitting alcohol wasn’t the hardest part for me—but I was still using cannabis at the time. By the time I had my actual last drink, I’d already spent years trying to moderate. That alone was exhausting—constant mental gymnastics and negotiations with myself. Outside of pregnancy, I’d never managed more than a month alcohol-free.
So when my husband and I decided to take a break from drinking together (on his birthday, no less), I went all in. I immersed myself in quit-lit, podcasts, and next-level self-care. I took an obscene number of bubble baths and comforted myself with Indian food and ice cream. My thinking was: as long as I’m not drinking, I can indulge in other gentle pleasures.
I did pause cannabis use for that first month, but then went back to it with full intent to “moderate.” And for a little while, I did. But ultimately, it served the same purpose as alcohol—numbing my brain, avoiding hard feelings, and chasing dopamine. And, just like with drinking, moderation didn’t last.
Quitting cannabis was harder. Suddenly, I was just… alone with my thoughts. That discomfort was the catalyst that finally pushed me to do the deeper work: unpacking the anxiety and unresolved emotions I’d been dulling for years. For me, that looked like therapy, more intentional self-care, and eventually starting an SSRI to help support my brain chemistry.
Reading This Naked Mind by Annie Grace was also a turning point. It helped me understand that once your brain forms a neural pathway for an addictive behaviour, moderation becomes nearly impossible. That shift in perspective was huge—it wasn’t a personal failure; it was my brain doing what it’s wired to do.
Of course, I had cravings—especially early on, and especially during emotionally charged moments when I would’ve normally reached for a drink or a puff. The first year was all about finding my footing and building a new normal. But now, sobriety is my normal. It feels natural, grounding—and I don’t feel tempted anymore.
👨👩👧👦 How did your friends and family react?
This one really surprised me. I have a wonderfully supportive tribe, so I didn’t get any negative pushback or pressure to drink. The reactions I did get tended to fall into two categories: genuinely supportive or slightly deflective.
Many friends and family members were totally cool with it—gave us a high-five or a quick “good on you,” and then moved right along with the conversation. For people who don’t have a complicated relationship with alcohol, whether someone drinks or not just isn’t a big deal. They’re happy if you’re happy and want to support your choices. I understand that perspective a lot more now that I’m a non-drinker. When I was still drinking, I paid close (almost subconscious) attention to how much other people were drinking—probably as a way to gauge and justify my own habits. Now that I don’t drink, I hardly even notice unless someone’s being especially loud or obnoxious… and I tend not to be around people like that these days anyway.
Then there was the other group — people who, upon hearing we’d stopped drinking, would launch into justifying their own habits. Interestingly, these were often folks I knew to be fairly heavy drinkers. I’ve come to understand that sobriety can cause people to confront their own drinking habits — which can feel uncomfortable if they’re on the fence or in denial about how alcohol is affecting them. Some of those people have since asked about our experience, and a few have even joined us on the sober side. So when someone responds defensively, it’s a gentle reminder that alcohol misuse is more common than we think — and that compassion always goes further than judgment.
☕ What do you drink instead?
At home, I mostly stick with the OG—good ol’ H₂O. And because I’m American, that means ice cold water, with actual ice cubes floating in it. (Still can’t believe Aussies don’t do ice water. Wild. Y’all are missing out.) I also love a bubbly kombucha, a mid-afternoon English Breakfast tea (they’ve converted me), and the occasional cheeky Diet Coke.
When I’m out and about in Australia, I usually order a lime and soda or a soft drink. But if we’re visiting the US? It’s all about the unsweetened iced tea with lemon—another thing Australians really need to adopt, if you ask me.
We also keep a few non-alcoholic beers and wines on hand. My husband enjoys the NA beers, and I’ll have one every now and then too. Sometimes we open an NA wine for special occasions, but truthfully, I mostly use them to fill the built-in wine rack in our kitchen hutch.
A quick note though: non-alcoholic drinks can be a bit controversial in the sober community. Technically, most are very low alcohol (less than 0.5%), which isn’t enough to get you buzzed. But for some people, they can trigger cravings or reinforce old habits, so it’s one of those “know thyself” things. If you’re not sure, go slow and see how it feels.
🎉 Do you still go to parties or events with alcohol?
Absolutely. Alcohol is a deeply ingrained part of Australian culture, and if we avoided every event where booze was involved, our social life would be pretty bland. That said, I completely respect that for some people—especially in early sobriety—steering clear of drinking environments is the best move. In those early days, you’re still figuring out your boundaries and triggers, and it can all feel a bit wobbly.
It was definitely awkward for me at first. I wasn’t sure how—or even if—I should mention my sobriety. I didn’t know how much to share, whether people would feel uncomfortable drinking around me, or if they’d think I was suddenly boring or judgy.
But time (and practice) gave me confidence. These days, most of our friends know we don’t drink, and they also know we’re not fussed at all if they do. I have zero judgment about what other people choose to put in their bodies—it’s none of my business. That said, I’m always happy to talk about sobriety if someone’s curious or exploring it themselves.
At most events now, I’m not the only one skipping alcohol, and honestly? Hardly anyone bats an eye. If someone asks, I usually just say, “I don’t drink,” and if they press, I’ll say, “I have trouble moderating, so it’s easier for me not to drink at all.” That usually satisfies the question. But if they want to know more? I’m an open book—clearly, if you’ve made it this far into this blog post, you know I’ve got a lot to say.
👣 How has sobriety changed your life?
In some ways, this feels a little speculative—because alongside becoming sober, I also became a mom to two young boys, and both of those life changes have undoubtedly shaped who I am today. But deep down, I know sobriety has given me the space and clarity to be a better parent. Without the hangovers that came with drinking and the general fog that came with both drinking and cannabis use, I’m less irritable, more patient, and so much more present. My mind isn’t preoccupied with substances—when I’ll drink or smoke next, how I’ll moderate, how I’ll fix the regret the morning after. And it’s honestly wild how much brainspace that used to take up.
My physical health has improved too. I say this as someone who wholeheartedly believes in health at every size, and that a person’s weight is one of the least interesting things about them—but it’s true that I’m sitting about 10kg (~22lbs) lighter than I was when I was drinking. More importantly, I have more energy. Fewer gut issues. And people have even told me there’s a peace and light in my eyes now that wasn’t there before. You can judge for yourself—I’ve included a few photos that show the contrast over time.
Trigger warning: The first two photos contain alcohol. Click on each image to reveal.
Sobriety has also carved out space for joy—especially when it comes to hobbies. Back when I was drinking and smoking, most evenings ended with wine, weed, and doomscrolling until I finally crashed. These days, I’m often asleep by 9pm (because: kids), but the time I do have is mine in a completely new way. I’ve rediscovered what I genuinely enjoy—gardening, DIY projects, reading sci-fi, experimenting with new recipes, and even starting this here lifestyle blog. I can’t say I’ve saved money (if anything, my hobby budget has grown), but what I’ve gained is worth far more than what I left behind.
Most importantly? The guilt and self-loathing are gone. I like who I am now. I feel proud of myself for letting go of something that once felt impossible. Sobriety has given me peace, confidence, and a life I truly want to be present for—and it continues to unfold in beautiful, unexpected ways.
📚 What do you do when you’re stressed or sad without alcohol and cannabis?
The amazing thing is—there’s actually less stress and sadness without alcohol and cannabis in the mix. I no longer ride those extreme highs that used to come with substance use, but the flip side is that the crushing lows have all but disappeared. Life feels steadier, more manageable. And it’s not just me—research by the NIH shows that alcohol and mental health are deeply connected, and cutting back (or quitting altogether) can significantly reduce symptoms of anxiety and depression.
As I’ve mentioned before, I do live with anxiety—and I was definitely using substances to self-medicate. Sobriety pushed me to finally address that head-on. I worked with my GP and eventually started an SSRI, which made a huge difference. It felt like a physical weight lifted from my brain. For the first time, I could focus on one thing at a time and actually take life in stride.
I’m big on self-care and building little treats into my schedule (and budget). I look forward to a monthly visit from our cleaner to help lighten the mental load, and I treat myself to a pedicure or massage every few months. I’ve also started spending a bit more time (and yes, a bit more cash—hello, op shops!) curating a wardrobe that reflects how I want to feel: grounded, colourful, and confident. When time allows, I practice yoga and head out for walks in the nature reserve near our home—exercise has been a huge support for my mental health. And one of the most nourishing rituals I’ve built into my weeks is gardening with my kids. It’s messy, joy-filled, and deeply grounding.
One of the most important things I’ve learned, though, is how to sit with uncomfortable feelings. It took practice, but it really does get easier. I’ve come to realise that stress and sadness are temporary—and that numbing them only delays the healing. Being present with those feelings and working through them without substances is not just possible—it’s powerful.
🧠 Do you miss drinking and smoking?
Occasionally—usually in a group setting with perfect weather and that easygoing vibe where I used to reach for a drink or a puff—I’ll feel a quick pang of longing. But these days, it passes almost instantly and gets replaced by the quiet, steady mantra I’ve built over the years: Nope, you can’t. It’s just not an option for you.
So instead, I grab something tasty to eat, soak up the moment, and enjoy being my sober, happy, vibrant self. And honestly? That version of me is having a way better time anyway.
⏰ What surprised you most about being sober?
I touched on this earlier, but the thing that truly caught me off guard was just how much time sobriety gave back to me. It was like someone snuck a few extra hours into my day—and not just in the obvious sense of not losing evenings to wine and mornings to hangovers.
What I hadn’t realised was how much mental time drinking and smoking consumed. All the thinking, negotiating, planning, and regretting that surrounded alcohol and cannabis—when I’d drink or smoke, how much I’d allow myself, whether I’d “been good enough” to justify it, how I’d recover the next day. That mental chatter was constant, even when I wasn’t physically using.
When all of that noise finally went quiet, it was a little disorienting at first—but also unbelievably freeing. I had so much more space in my head for creativity, connection, self-care… and actual projects. In that newfound space, I’ve been able to throw myself into some truly joyful things—like diving deep into making our household more sustainable, and collaborating with Sweet Bones on broader-reaching sustainability goals—ideas I’d always cared about but hadn’t had the bandwidth to fully embrace.
Sobriety didn’t just clear my calendar—it cleared static from my mind. And in that newfound space, so much good has had room to grow.
🛤️ What would you say to someone who’s sober-curious?
I’d say go for it—but really go for it. Don’t just “see how it goes” or white-knuckle your way through. Set a solid timeframe—30 days, 60 days, 100 days—and fully commit. Use that time to learn, reflect, and give your brain a proper break. And most importantly: get support.
Start by surrounding yourself with voices that empower and educate. I dove headfirst into quit literature, podcasts, and online communities, and it made all the difference. Finding a community or support network isn’t just “nice to have”—it massively increases the chances of long-term recovery. Learn about how alcohol and drugs affects your brain, especially the dopamine system, so you can understand why it’s so hard to moderate. Knowing it wasn’t just a lack of willpower—it was science—was a huge relief for me.
And if your drinking is heavy or daily, please talk to a healthcare provider first. Alcohol withdrawals can be dangerous, even deadly, so don’t try to tough it out alone.
Here are some resources that helped me, and that I recommend to anyone sober-curious:
Disclaimer: These are affiliate links ⬇️. If you order one of these resources through these links I may earn a small commission—at no extra cost to you. I only recommend resources I genuinely use and love, and I absolutely stand by these materials. Thank you for supporting independent content creators!
📚 This Naked Mind by Annie Grace – a game-changer in understanding your relationship with alcohol.
👉🏻 Order through Amazon Australia 🇦🇺 (affiliate link)
👉🏻 Order through Amazon US 🇺🇸 (affiliate link)
📚 Dopamine Nation by Dr. Anna Lembke – I read this more recently, but wow. Absolutely essential reading.
👉🏻 Order through Amazon Australia 🇦🇺 (affiliate link)
👉🏻 Order through Amazon US 🇺🇸 (affiliate link)
🎧 Podcasts like The Sober Curious Podcast, Sober Powered, or Take a Break
💬 Facebook groups like This Naked Mind or Sober Mommies – great for community and shared experience.
🧑⚕️ Your GP – seriously, they can help you make a sustainable plan, and it feels less scary when you’re not doing it alone.
🍷 Alcohol-free drinks – if they’re not triggering for you, having a nice non-alc wine or kombucha can ease the social aspect. If you’re reading from Australia, I recommend Sans Drinks—a totally alcohol-free drinks superstore (affiliate link) or Craftzero, which sells non-alcoholic beer, wine, and spirits for mindful drinkers and craft lovers (affiliate link).
🧘♀️ And don’t forget the bubble baths, long walks, and all the little comforts that help you feel nourished without numbing.
And yes, there’s always AA, SMART Recovery, or other structured programs if that’s your thing. There’s no one-size-fits-all approach, and that’s the beauty of it—you get to choose what support looks like for you.
So if you’re even a little sober-curious, try it. You don’t have to promise forever—but you might just find something pretty amazing on the other side. 💛
💛 Final Thoughts
Sobriety has changed my life in more ways than I could’ve imagined—some subtle, some seismic. Letting go of alcohol and cannabis wasn’t about depriving myself, it was about choosing a different kind of abundance: clarity, presence, and peace. It wasn’t always easy (especially at the beginning), but it’s been the most rewarding decision I’ve ever made for myself and for my family.
If you’re sober-curious, know that you’re not alone. There’s a whole world of support, encouragement, and community out there waiting for you. You don’t need to have it all figured out. You just have to be curious enough to try.
Thinking about giving it a try?
If you’re curious but not quite ready to commit long-term, a month-long challenge can be a great way to test the waters. Dry July is one of the most popular options in Australia, and I’ve written a brutally honest guide to help you get through the tough bits—because it’s not all glowy skin and early mornings. If you’re considering giving it a go, that article’s full of tips, humour, and a whole lot of truth.
✨ Let’s Keep the Conversation Going
Whether you’re fully sober, dipping a toe into sober-curiosity, or just here to learn—thank you for being here. I’d love to hear from you:
🟡 What questions do you have about sobriety?
🟡 What part of this post resonated most with you?
🟡 Do you have a story you’d like to share?
Drop a comment below, send me a message, or connect with me on my socials ⬇️—I’m always up for a kind, honest chat. 💛
Let’s stay connected! 🌿✨
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Looking for more? Dive into my lifestyle blog where I chat about all things joyful, sustainable, and a little bit messy—with kids along for the ride. Around here, you’ll find me digging in the garden, pottering in my sustainable kitchen, tackling DIY projects, chasing nature adventures, navigating sobriety, and prepping for whatever life throws our way.
Basically, if it involves creativity, resilience, or a sprinkle of flour—I’m probably writing about it! 🌿
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