The Trouble with Being Teetotal
Catherine Lawson
During a recent conversation with someone I was meeting for the first time, we got talking about drinking trends and I mentioned that I was teetotal. Leaning across the table he placed a hand on my arm, lowered his voice and asked, ‘How long have you been sober?’ And therein lies the problem.
For most of my adult life I’ve made the choice not to drink. It’s partly because I’m not very good at it (like the generations of women before me on my mother’s side, I’m genetically predisposed to being a lightweight, so even a single shot can hit hard) but it’s also because I know it’s better for my health. It’s a wellbeing choice. This didn’t stop me persevering through the teenage years of course, experimenting with my likes and my limits, but in the end, I was happy to leave it all behind with the rest of my teenage angst, accepting that aside from the occasional ‘just a small one for me’ on high days and holidays, drinking wasn’t my thing. I’m not in any way anti-alcohol, I just personally feel better without it in my life.
I’m very comfortable with my choice when it comes to not drinking. However, not everyone feels the same. Throughout the years I’ve had some interesting conversations with people who are completely baffled when I order a soda and lime and who immediately ask, ‘do you not drink?’ It’s questioned in a way which it shouldn’t be and which, were it to be flipped, would be nothing short of judgemental. If, for example, ‘are you not even having one?’ turned into ‘are you having another one?’ I imagine some defensiveness might kick in. And if ‘do you never drink?’ turned into ‘do you always drink?’ I think we all know where that conversation might go. Even worse, though, as my recent conversation highlighted, is the assumption that behind every soft drink lies a dark drinking problem.
For many, the choice not to drink is simply about health. High functioning professionals reject it in order to maximise their own performance. Alcohol gets in the way and they just don’t have time to feel anything less than 100%. For others it’s a choice which supports a sporting goal, a weight loss goal or a mental health goal. It’s often ditched to enable physical recovery from illness, to support rehabilitation after a major health event and, for women, to help manage symptoms of menopause. Then there are the choices which are based on finances; not everyone has the budget to drink up and get the next round, particularly amid this cost-of-living crisis. And of course, there are those who are managing addiction; fighting every day to say no to something which poses an ongoing threat to their wellbeing. There are countless reasons, often very personal, why people say no to a drink and my point is this: it should never be a choice which invites scrutiny. It should be no more worthy of attention in a group than the decision to order a pint.
The peer pressure to drink, and drink heavily, isn’t exclusive to school aged kids (as an aside, recent research from the World Health Organisation found that the UK has the highest levels of child alcohol abuse globally – a conversation for another day); it’s a deeply engrained part of our culture and the pressure can be felt as much in our middle years as it is in our teenage years. The good news is, however, that young people (those in their 20s) are starting to challenge those norms, choosing non-alcoholic drinks over pints or spirits and embracing the countless benefits of doing so. As a consequence, 20%* of the UK population is now teetotal with significantly more choosing to drink only occasionally. It’s a change which will hopefully end the stigma attached to saying no and, more importantly, support the very youngest in our society to develop healthier approaches to alcohol.
*Alcohol Change UK statistics
