Frankly Put: Why I Stopped Drinking
My 20’s have been a season of finding tangible reasons for what I do and do not do. It’s been a time of breaking away from “religion” or “faith” as the reason why I do things.
One major thing is partaking of the waters — as we so lovingly refer to it. In Nairobi; maybe even Kenya generally, especially in this age group, it is almost fundamental to “having fun” or “having a good time”. Whilst people are out here avoiding it for religious or trauma-related reasons, I luckily stumbled on my own reason to not do it and I must say it is a lot easier to avoid pressure.
For the longest time, I have been surrounded by people who drink and heavily at that or people who do not drink at all. That tough pendulum swing was not great for finding my own relationship with this habit that seemingly is common with my people. It was a case of balancing where to stop without feeling like a buzzkill and where to start without feeling shame for it.
I actually accidentally stumbled on the life on the other side of drinking sprees and that side of life. In my books, it was always, “Want a good time? Drink. Want to go out with friends? Drink. Want to fit in with the energy of the crowd? Drink.” There were occasions of pause where there was the questioning of it but it would always fade after a while and the next weekend it was back to the push and pull.
I am fortunate enough to not find that I became dependent on it at any one point, I just associated it with activities of fun and it ruined the experience for the most part. Even when the drinking was minimal, I could tell there was a distinct grogginess in the morning after. It was the culture though, to get up the next day and repeat, repeat. I didn’t go out as much and thus had periods where the drinking was very inconsistent.
Every so often, I would have stories around me of people going on “detox” because of how much they drank and correspondingly, they stopped going out completely during that period. Now, I was hardly ever drunk, maybe a little buzzed — though there are those stories to be told another time. In fact, in conversation with someone, it came up that perhaps it is healthy in life to have those black-out drunk experiences. It lulls the FOMO when the stories come up, acknowledges your tolerance and reduces the chances of having these experiences later in life when much more is demanded of you but I digress.
In the coming of Covid, my going out and subsequent drinking had reduced to zero and where my agemates spent their time indoors posting bottles and bottles, I found myself completely out of that loop. Sounds sad but I found no issue with it and in fact, I almost resented the thought that I ever thought needed a drink to have a good time. Since I was already there, I figured, “What if I just don’t drink anymore?” and sure enough I cut back on it.
Fast forward a year later, within which I had had a sip here and there but nothing too serious, I decided on a night out to just not drink at all and be there for the music. An epiphany. That night I had a wildly enjoyable time, sweating and yelling my voice, gone. The next morning I was up and at it, fresh and ready. That one night turned into another, then another and soon I stopped hiding behind a faux reason to avoid a drink. If I didn’t want to drink, I wouldn’t. It didn’t have to come with an “I’m driving,” or “I have stuff to do tomorrow” tag to it.
Now, the unfortunate thing is that we youngins have fostered this drinking habit and ingrained it so deeply that in some cases I was nearly being fought for rejecting a drink. It’s odd to think about it that we are here to have fun, I am having fun and you are having fun (I hope) so why must my fun be alcohol-driven just because yours is? The more they pressed it, the less and less I felt the urge to drink even when I had no responsibilities stopping me.
A drawback is my nature and being drawn to responsibilities meant that I am like the dad of the group. Getting people from one place to another should there be club hopping, watching people’s belongings — and occasionally people so they don’t do things they will regret, ensuring people have water and when it is time to go, ensuring people get home safe is routine of a night out. While it was something I would do when I was drinking too, it’s a lot easier and clearer without the drinking.
On occasion, I like to sit back and people-watch our beloved Nairobi nightlife. It is something so amusing to experience from an outside perspective. There is fun in the way we behave and whilst the stories may remain secrets I keep and don’t reveal, it is always a bonding thing to look across the club, notice someone who has seen the same thing and laugh with them.
While taking care of people can sometimes be a pain, I don’t mind sober nights out. I have learnt to be there for the music and social aspect of it all. My extroverted side comes out a lot more now that it is fully embraced and it loves the space to roam freely and interact with people even though they will forget we talked that night. I consider myself lucky to be here without having to go through some traumatic experience to stop me from drinking.
Here’s the thing though, when I say I stopped it doesn’t mean I cut it out completely, rather I toned it down to an occasional courtesy drink — which is once in a blue moon. I’m glad for those who don’t feel like they have to dumb down their fun on that account. I’m grateful for the sober friends with whom I am able to experience these nights out. I am grateful to the drunk ones for the stories and the memories.
Most of all, I am grateful I found a reason not to drink for myself and it allows me to fully be in control when I do, to put it Frankly.
