Why I chose to do Dry January at 21
Throughout December 2023 I was playing with the idea of sobriety.
To kick off 2024. Dry January?
It seemed pretty far out of reach given my current circumstances. As with most other things over here, Student life in Cholula, Puebla is social to the extreme. Living with 16 other people last semester and being in a new destination almost every weekend filled me with joy, yes, but it was relentless. That buzz of new experience gave me little time to just be.
The novelty of living on the other side of the world where it’s sunbathing weather in January still hasn’t worn off and I’m not sure how a new year’s eve will ever top watching the sunset, with sand in my toes and the embrace of a holiday romance in Sayulita.
But the copious social activities that have persisted these past 5 months have somewhat taught me a lesson.
I’d challenged myself to do something away from new company, and took myself solo travelling in October, but newness was still ample exploring the Yucatan, whether it was solo or not. The everyday change was hard to keep up with and what made it even harder was when my nights blurred into one because club interiors are so analogous and a cheap bottle of wine tastes just as sharp as the next.
2024 and dry January is coupled with a new house. I moved out of my 17-man party pad and into a new. More change, but more chill. I now live with few people, and only tend to spend time with a couple of them. Having a quiet, private space where I can relax, reflect and remember the important things is something I’ve grown to appreciate.
Pre-Mexico me denied the idea of living anywhere else than the most sociable place possible.
I’ve always known that I like my own space. My thoughts are often messy and mumbled so that so called ‘me time’ is a necessity. Where ‘me time’ was scarce living with 16, I didn’t necessarily always loathe that idea.
Living with your best mates is certainly fun. I walk downstairs to make lunch and have 4 people to entertain me while doing so, I’d walk to uni with company and join in on evening suggestions thrown around the room mid-afternoon. We’d reminisce on memories from Oaxaca and Puerto Escondido, laugh and joke 2 hours away, and anticipate moving back to our home countries. There was nothing unenjoyable, nothing tedious about semester 1 living, I had some of the best times of my life.
Moving to Mexico was all encapsulating. A joy. Friends, experiences, memories, plans, blurry nights, giggles in the kitchen, movies, tacos, travel, sun, hiking. Everything enjoyable. Everything easy. The one thing that was missing?
The next challenge.
Yes, I am living on the other side of the world which I’ve already had to twist an arm and a leg for, but maybe that is just why I craved a little more, umph.
By doing Dry January I thought I could challenge myself. During a time where tipping your head back for a shot of Bacardi was once a thrice weekly occurrence, I decided I would start to say no. No. I do not want to blur my memory, slur my words, stumble up the stairs or bash my knee on the pavement, wake up in someone else’s bed, or feel so rough the next morning that the only energy I have was used up buying a torta and a coca cola. By challenging myself to say no the shots none of the other things even need consideration, they’re gone.
I have my mornings where I can sit in my window seat with a fresh head, I go to my lessons on time, I remember what happened the night before – though sometimes I don’t because I’ve headed home early for my 8 hours of sleep.
Wow that sounds so boring.
Having had so little of days like these last semester though, I’ve grown to appreciate them more than ever before.
When ‘me time’ and sobriety is seemingly stripped from day-to-day, I found myself craving it so much more. That’s why I made the change. So much of one thing and so little of another pushed me into realising what’s important. And what’s different about this new way of life.
My thoughts turn to home.
The prospect of going back to living only 5 minutes from a British supermarket is teasing me. I can once again buy fresh fruit and veg, chicken, noodles, tahini, frozen spinach, and pizza all in the same shop. I can’t say I have the same want to see the inflated price tags beneath them, though I digress.
When that was my weekly scenario, did I ever appreciate it’s ease?
Maybe I didn’t realize it until the end of last semester, but my longing for a one stop weekly food shop could be somewhat paralleled into why I’ve gone sober for January.
When Bruce Bogtrotter stole some of Mrs. Trunchbull’s chocolate cake in Matilda he was forced to sit in front of the school and finish the whole thing. Too much of that cake was too much cake. His decision to have one slice, meant he had to have it all. My decision to move into that party pad also pushed me to my limit. Though that Matilda scene was a punishment, and my unrelenting social life, a product of my own decisions.
Is there anything in life that you can never have too much of?
The past 5 months stripped me of of non-hungover mornings and time to myself so much so that by the end of semester 1 I’d never looked forward to looking after my body more. In my new house and sober head, I can prioritise my ‘me-time’. Something that this pre-Mexico social butterfly never thought she would.
Mexico greeted me with its extremes, and I’m so grateful that it has. For its rich social life has made me realise more of what I shouldn’t take for granted.
Being pushed to an extreme makes it become real, what you like and what you do not.