Why I Took an 8-Month Sobriety Break — and Why Sobriety Isn’t for Me

If you’ve been around @mainlinemartini for a while, you probably noticed a shift. Fewer nights out. More early mornings. Less “one more martini?” energy. No posts. That wasn’t accidental.

For eight months, I didn’t drink.

It wasn’t some dramatic rock-bottom moment or ultimatum. It was a combination of health reasons, burnout, and—let’s be honest—the cost of drinking culture in Charleston. Between $18 cocktails, Ubers, late nights, and hangovers that last until Wednesday, it stopped feeling fun and started feeling exhausting.

So I took a step back.

And in many ways? It worked.

Physically, I felt incredible. I was in the best shape I’ve ever been in. I slept better. My skin was glowing. My mornings were productive. I had more energy, more routine, more discipline. If you’re measuring success by wellness metrics alone, sobriety was a home run.

The yoga studio I work at!!!

But mentally… it was a different story.

What no one really prepares you for is how deeply social alcohol is—especially in a city like Charleston, where everything revolves around food, drinks, and going out. Sobriety slowly turned me inward. I started declining plans. Then avoiding them. Then I convinced myself I preferred staying home alone.

I developed real social anxiety. The kind where getting dressed to meet friends felt overwhelming. The kind where, when I did go out, I spent the whole time wishing I was back home on the couch. I wasn’t connecting—I was isolating.

And yes, I know the research. Alcohol is poison. It’s inflammatory. It impacts sleep, hormones, mental health, and longevity. I’m not here to argue science. I’m also not here to romanticize drinking or downplay how life-changing sobriety can be for many people.

But here’s the truth that doesn’t always get space online:

Sobriety didn’t benefit my mental health.

What did help was finding balance.

I’ve learned that for me, a couple of drinks at dinner—with friends or my fiancé—actually improves my quality of life. I look forward to plans again. I feel present. I connect. I laugh. I leave satisfied instead of depleted. And ironically, I spend less money now than I did before, because it’s intentional—not chaotic nights out just because “everyone’s doing it.”

I’m not chasing buzzes. I’m not drinking to escape. I’m drinking socially, mindfully, and selectively—and that works for me.

There are countless benefits to sobriety, and I’ll never knock someone for choosing it.

But I’ll always preach this louder: Find what works for YOU.

Eat the burger! Drink the cocktail (if it works for you!)

Not what’s trending. Not what looks good on Instagram. Not what makes you feel morally superior. What actually supports your mental health, your relationships, and your life.

For me, that’s balance.

And yes—more times than not, that balance includes a really good martini (or two, but who's counting). 🍸

If you’re questioning your own relationship with alcohol, I hope this reminds you that it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. You’re allowed to experiment. You’re allowed to change your mind. And you’re allowed to choose joy—whatever that looks like for you.