Why don't you drink?
- Leah Holmes
- Jun 29
- 5 min read
It's a question I've been asked countless times over the last decade.

"Why don't you drink?"
I've always thought it was an interesting question. Not because people ask it with bad intentions but because we rarely stop to ask the opposite question.
Why do you drink?
I don't ask that as an accusation or a judgment. I ask it because I think it's an invitation to become curious. Most people answer, "Because I like it." But if we pause there for just a moment and ask another question—What do you like about it?—the conversation often becomes much more interesting.
The Hidden Needs Behind Drinking
Do you like that it helps you let go and worry less about what other people think? Do you like that it gives you permission to dance, to laugh a little louder, or to feel more outgoing? Does it quiet anxious thoughts for a while? Does it soften grief or give you a temporary break from difficult emotions? Does it help you feel connected to the people around you?
None of those answers are wrong. In fact, I think they reveal something deeply human. Most of us are searching for the same things: connection, freedom, belonging, relief, play, and presence. The question isn't whether those needs exist. The question is whether we've ever considered that there might be other ways to meet them.
What Sobriety Really Gave Me
For me, quitting drinking was never just about alcohol. It was about learning how to experience all of those things without needing a substance first. I had to learn how to regulate my nervous system instead of numbing it. I had to learn how to sit with difficult emotions instead of escaping them. I had to discover that I could dance without liquid courage, celebrate without champagne, grieve without reaching for a drink, and walk into a room as my authentic self instead of becoming someone else first.
Looking back, I realize sobriety wasn't something I simply chose one day. It became a complete rebuilding of my relationship with myself.
"Sobriety didn't take away my freedom. It asked me to build it."
For a while, it also felt like something I constantly had to defend. Saying, "No thanks," was rarely enough. There was almost always another question, another offer, another joke about having "just one." Sometimes I realized that certain friendships only existed because alcohol did. Other times I had to confront the uncomfortable truth that I didn't fully know who I was without drinking either. Alcohol gave me temporary freedom. Sobriety taught me how to create lasting freedom.
"The goal was never to become someone who didn't drink. The goal was to become someone who no longer needed to."
Why We Question Sobriety
One thing I've always found fascinating is how our culture often assumes the person who stops drinking is the one with "the problem." When someone decides they no longer want to drink, they're expected to explain themselves, reassure everyone else, or provide a dramatic story that somehow validates their choice.
I've never understood that.
"Alcohol is one of the few substances people often feel the need to justify not using."
I didn't quit because I was weak. I quit because I loved myself enough to walk away from something that was no longer serving my life. That decision gave me so much more than sobriety. It gave me presence, peace, self-trust, and a relationship with myself that I never could have built while avoiding my own emotions.
Moving through sobriety was so much more than putting down alcohol. It meant changing friendships, finding environments that actually felt nourishing, learning that "no" is a complete sentence, and discovering healthy ways to regulate my emotions. It taught me that I could experience joy, grief, celebration, anxiety, excitement, and love fully present. It wasn't about becoming perfect. It was about becoming more myself.
Changing the Conversation
These days, something has shifted. When I tell people I don't drink, I rarely get questioned anymore. Instead, I usually hear, "Wow, that's amazing," or "Good for you!" I love seeing that change. It feels like our culture is slowly beginning to celebrate sobriety instead of questioning it.
A Sober Bartender?
Ironically, one of the questions I get most now is, "How do you bartend if you're sober?" The answer deserves its own blog because bartending unexpectedly became another part of my healing.
Working behind the bar helped me let go of my anger toward alcohol and, more importantly, my anger toward people who drink. I realized I don't have to be angry at a substance, and I don't have to judge someone else's journey. We are all finding our own way through life. Some people may not be ready to ask themselves these questions yet, and that's okay. My job isn't to convince anyone to quit drinking. It's simply to share what I've learned by choosing a different path.
Bartending also reminded me that people don't just come to a bar for a drink. They come for music, celebration, conversation, laughter, community, and connection. Some people simply need someone to listen. I've realized that connection was always what interested me most—not the alcohol itself.

Ten Years Later
This October, I'll celebrate ten years of sobriety. Not simply ten years without alcohol, but ten years of learning how to be present, how to feel, and how to love myself enough to stay.
"Looking back, I realize sobriety was never the destination. It was simply the path that led me back to myself."
So if someone asks me again why I don't drink, I don't think I'll feel the need to explain myself anymore. Instead, I'll simply smile. Because the answer isn't really about alcohol anymore. It's about choosing a life where I no longer need something outside of myself to feel whole, free, or fully alive.
And if this article leaves you with one thing, I hope it's the courage to be curious. Curious enough to look inward instead of outward. Curious enough to ask, without judgment, What am I really looking for, and is there another way to find it? I've found that some of the most meaningful changes in my life didn't begin with having the right answer. They began with asking a better question.
That curiosity changed my life. I've learned that self-love isn't just about accepting yourself It's about becoming so deeply connected to who you are that you no longer need something outside of yourself to feel enough.
For me, sobriety wasn't about giving something up. It was about coming home to myself. And while that journey began with putting down a drink, it became a practice of choosing myself—again and again.




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