4 Years Sober
It's been 1460 days of sobriety - here are 14 things i've learnt about being a queer, sober person living through the 2020s.
When I first started writing, it was on social media. I would write winding captions about my day, genuinely using it was a diary - documenting my outfits and sharing what i’d had for lunch like I was a boomer trapped inside the body of a 16 year old. At its core, it was my way of reaching out to people in a way that was perhaps covert, but still an attempt to connect with those around me.
Over time, that sentiment has remained true, if not muddied at times by the validation that social media floods ones brain with when being vulnerable ‘on main’.
Sharing your darkest moments on the internet is sometimes the best way to feel affirmed and seen, but equally I was mindful not to let it become a substitute for direct connection and targeted help. Telling my cultivated corner of the world wide web something meaningful often plays a pivotal role in me being able to understand that there are other people out there who not only understand, but are going through the same thing as well. It acts as a jumping off point that destroys the sense of isolation that often comes with pain, and reminds me always that there is help out there if I need it.
That’s why I wanted to write about my sobriety. Not because i’m in a difficult place with it right now - far from it. But instead I wanted to publish something today to catalogue the time that has passed, and reflect on what I have learnt during a consistent period of sobriety. Instead of speaking out like I used to in order to find solace and comfort during peak emotional strife, this is speaking openly to document growth. An archive of thought that says ,“Hey, it’s Jamie from the future just saying here’s what you’ve learnt. Standing in the footprints of a previous Jamie. That’s pretty cool isn’t it?”
Smoking and drinking became habits I depended upon during what one could call a meteoric rise to fame (Don’t laugh). As a queer person with a social platform, new shiny opportunities and money coming in it became easy to just say yes to everything - ignoring not only the physical toll this took but the emotional one too. In order to get through the social event, a drink must be firmly placed in hand, and because I was unable to say no to any work or social opportunities that came my way, it became a cycle. Drinking to be social, then smoking to alleviate the stress of knowing that I had agreed to do the same tomorrow. Doing both simultaneously because if I didn’t, people would think i’m boring and not want to work with me again. I was queer and in my early 20s - of course I had a pack of cigarettes on me and half a bottle of mulled wine up my ass? But it became a cycle of my own making that in 2020, I realised I could step off at any point. No one was making me do all of this. There was an image that I thought I had to be a part of, otherwise I would be seen as boring. We firmly know now that I love being boring.
Just because I was young, queer and living in London it didn’t mean I was predestined to drink and smoke for the rest of my days. I had presumed that this was something I had to do in order to be successful or to fit in with the queer scene, or even something that must be essential to feel even a modicum of happiness in this erratic world. The freedom from societal norms or pressure from heteronormative society can be fully felt without the need for alcohol. A radical thought at the time, but one I had finally decided to give a go.
It’s been four years since I last drank alcohol, and three years since I last smoked. Here’s 14 things i’ve learnt about myself in those 1460 days.
You can still be gay and not drink. It’s not a problem, your card doesn’t get revoked. Some people might think you’re weird or question how you could ever have fun ever again. That’s fine, they probably should stop drinking too but we’re not going to tell them how to live their lives or tell them they have a condition they don’t. That’s odd.
You don’t have to do things you don’t want to do, especially if there’s alcohol involved. For example, I’ve learnt that I don’t enjoy nightlife and never really have - alcohol was my way of trying to convince myself that I did like it. If I don’t want to do something then it’s ok to just say that instead of using the thought of a wine to make me more excited to do it. Does that make sense?
Spending £14 a day on cigarettes might have felt chic but you can actually get loads of other cool things with £14 a day. That’s like 3 magazines, or fish and chips and a can of Irn Bru. Or a ticket to Kew Gardens (not peak times obviously).
People will ask you a lot why you don’t drink and that’s going to be annoying. Remember that you don’t have to tell them anything, unless you want to make them uncomfortable for asking an invasive question. Then you can tell them something fun like how when you were younger you got trapped inside a barrel of beer and accidentally fell off a pirate ship leaving you bobbing around the north sea. Then (obviously) you had to survive off of the liquid inside for 14 day and 14 nights, so you can’t face drinking anymore. Something like that.
You’ll realise some friendships were just based on drinking together. When that leaves, the friendship is often not held together by anything, and it might fade away. That’s ok - some people will stay in your world and some won’t. If drinking and smoking was the main reason you remained friends, then that doesn’t feel like strong foundations anyway.
You’ll need to relearn how to be intimate with another person whilst sober. It’s going to be a bit intense, that’s fine. Most things are when you actually know what you’re doing.
You’ll find people who drink annoying for a bit, and then it won’t bother you. Not because you are jealous, but just because you’ll realise how prominent alcohol is in the conversation when it’s around. Social plans will no longer orbit around a bottle of Jack Daniels. But it’s ok to still find it annoying that people will still use the prospect of having a drink as the anchor point for a weekend.
You’ll stop coughing - who knew smoking makes you cough all the time? Don’t think i’ve coughed (obviously apart from when swallowing water wrong or when I see someone vaping and cough to make them feel stupid) for 1460 days.
People will try and convince you that having alcohol in moderation is fine. This is often just projection. They’re trying to reassure themselves that it’s fine to drink in moderation. Obviously it is, you can do what you like. But people can get very defensive around sober people because they think you’re trying to outlaw alcohol or bring prohibition back. So, they might pull out a PowerPoint to show you all the health benefits of having a gin to really hit home that drinking isn’t always bad.
You’ll feel more. Stopping the consumption of mind altering substances like alcohol and nicotine means that you’ll have less opportunity to escape feelings or emotions if they’re swiftly coming at you. No longer nipping out for a fag (cigarette, not gay) or having a glass of wine after a stressful day means at some point you’ll be greeted by that stress that you’re pushing away. That’s fine - it’s not great. It’s actually pretty gross sometimes. But you get used to it, and understand that most of the time the ‘stress’ in question isn’t actually worthy of that drink or cigarette in the first place.
Sometimes it can feel like whack-a-mole when you take away the drug or substance you became reliant on for fun. You’ll end up reaching for sugar, or caffeine, or sex, or the gym or shopping or social media or male celebrities in ways that perhaps need to be monitored too. That’s ok - just keep an eye on them so they don’t become the new drug you become reliant on. We aren’t striving for perfection, just a desire to be better one day at a time.
Sometimes you won’t want to say you don’t drink because you might be worried people think you’re too high and mighty for them - that’s fine too. Just drink water and make people think you’re pregnant or on antibiotics.
You’ll have more time to find out the things you actually want to do, and you’ll remember then with full clarity. Like being a fun uncle, or sailing, or following Carol Vorderman on social media, or reading books, or watching Glee. You’ll realise that there are things that you might have never tried before that actually provide you with that escapism and lightness that drinking gave you.
Nothing is permanent. Everyday is an opportunity to remember that you’re worthy of a life free from self abandonment and self destruction. You’re worthy of a life that is full of connection, love, dignity and self-respect. You haven’t stopped drinking and smoking because life suddenly got easier - you just realised that there are other ways to deal with life that don’t include self sabotage. We play a part in the life we live - the world doesn’t just happen to us. We have a choice to actively participate in our own life.
Thanks always, here’s to the next 24.
J x