Sarah Landry Gets Candid About Saying No to Alcohol and Its Surprising Joys
I sat in the ER, an IV in my arm, the right side of my face drooping, and the vision in my right eye blurred from the pain of yet another migraine. This time, it was on my oldest daughter's 16th birthday.
At that point, I really only ever had drinks socially — with the occasional glass of wine at the end of the day. Over the years, however, I recognized the correlation between drinking and suffering from migraines and anxiety.
Until recently, it never seemed like a big enough deal to give up drinking entirely. To give up alcohol altogether felt like such a huge decision, an overreaction to my symptoms — one I wasn’t sure I could commit to.
It felt strange. As if alcohol was a natural part of existence, and to be without it somehow placed me on the outside of the experience. I mean, nobody ever asks “why” when you say yes to a drink, but they always ask “why” when you decline one…
A week before my visit to the ER, on a work trip in California when everyone around me was ordering drinks, I ordered myself a gin martini. I felt fine, woke up fine, traveled home fine.
But a few days later, that familiar pain behind my eye emerged, finally taking me down entirely for a few days without relief. I had been here before, too many times. Was it worth it?
So, that morning in the ER, as I missed my daughter’s birthday, I committed to doing whatever I could to stop the migraines that were becoming all too regular.
A big part of this involved giving up alcohol, for good.
A part of me felt saddened. The notion of not being able to have drinks with a friend or a glass of wine with dinner made me nostalgic. Some of my fondest memories are ones I associate with alcohol — in giving it up, it felt like I was losing a part of who I was.
Thankfully, two of my closest friends are sober. I was able to look up to them and share in the joys of fun drinks that are alcohol-free. The sense of solidarity I was afraid would dissolve without alcohol turned out to be a fallacy.
Rather, I felt camaraderie in not having alcohol at events. Unexpectedly, I felt not so alone. I’d underestimated how much joy I could find in a mocktail.
It was in June of 2022 — nearly a year ago — that I gave up alcohol. I know I said it felt like I was losing a part of me, but I’d be remiss not to share what I’ve gained.
For starters, in tandem with other efforts, I haven’t had a migraine since. In fact, I’ve only had three headaches in total since. It also turns out it wasn’t as big a deal as I thought it would be. I felt no shame when saying no to alcohol when pregnant, so this was truly no different.
When I shared my experience online, I was met with the support of many others on a similar journey — whether it be for health, sobriety, or simply cutting back. It made me realize how far I was from being alone.
Over the months I’ve found more and more friends making the same decision — some for no reason at all.
I’ll be honest, I still enjoy a low THC edible. But the urge to indulge and the aftermath has never been the same as alcohol, nor is the social pressure surrounding it.
Overall, I need to say, this year has been lovely. It has lacked for nothing. Saying no to alcohol has become easier and more natural — and finding others who are alcohol-free has become just as commonplace as those who drink.
Skipping on alcohol has meant gaining weeks of my life back — weeks of not laying in bed with ice on my forehead and covers over my eyes.
So, I raise my mixed soda with grapefruit juice mocktail and cheers to my friend’s glass as they sip on the alcoholized versions of the same drink and realize: I’m really enjoying life without alcohol.
I’m right inside the experience of existence, and it’s a beautiful thing.
