How I got through my first few social occasions alcohol free

My 120 Days Alcohol-Free: How I Got Here (and How You Can Too)

By David Pawsey

At the time of writing, I’ve been alcohol-free for 120 days. That number still feels surreal.

Why?Because:

• I originally signed up for 90 days, nothing more.

• I didn’t believe I could reach 90 days without slipping.

• I’ve started and abandoned countless things in my life — I expected this to be the same.

But one message from OYNB stuck with me from day one:

There is never a convenient time to take a break from alcohol.

Birthdays, weddings, terrible days at work, great days at work — the list is endless.If you wait for the “right time”, it will never come.

So in late June, staring down a summer filled with every possible alcohol-fuelled temptation — 40th birthdays, camping weekends, barbecues, a Hyde Park festival — I signed up anyway.

Below is my way of getting through those early weeks. It’s not a blueprint, not a rulebook.Just my experience — take whatever helps and leave the rest.

Hide in the toilet (yes, really)

My first social event as an alcohol-free human was nine days in: a close friend’s 40th birthday. I’d known this group for over 20 years — and nearly all of our memories involved drinking.

Every part of me wanted a drink. My brain was whispering, “This is what we do.”

So when I felt myself cracking, I slipped off to the bathroom — not for zen ambience, but to look at my phone.

In the early days OYNB tells you to write down your reasons for taking a break from alcohol. I’d typed mine into my notes app, and I read them every time the urge hit.

I hid. I read. I regrouped. It worked.

With friends like these…

I wasn’t alone in that cubicle.I had hundreds of people with me — digitally.

The OYNB Facebook group became my lifeline. Whether you’re on day 1 or day 100, the support is instant, warm, and relentless. I immersed myself fully: posting, reading, asking, supporting.

Even now at day 120, I still read posts from first-week challengers that stop me in my tracks.Their insights help me recognise patterns I still haven’t addressed myself.

Whenever you feel shaky, scroll. Someone will say exactly what you need.

Go hard or go home? No. Just go home.

At that 40th, celebrations began at lunch. Normally I’d stay on until the bitter end, insisting “just one more!” several times.

This time, I left with my family — raising eyebrows all around.

Watching my friends slowly unravel as I stayed stone-cold sober was uncomfortable. Agitating, even. But I kept telling myself:

“Do whatever it takes to stay on track — even if it means leaving early.”

And that’s exactly what I did for the first few weeks.I didn’t cancel plans — but I absolutely removed myself when I needed to.

Each event got easier.Each night lasted a little longer. It was like fitness training — reps, practice, exposure.

Stealth drinking and AF beer

I tried stealth AF drinking… and failed hilariously.

Turns out, when you aren’t trying to sneak vodka into a house party, you get caught immediately.

But AF beer was a true lifesaver. In the first couple of months, it helped hugely — at home and at the pub.

Some say it reinforces old habits. My attitude was simple:

As long as it isn’t alcohol, I don’t care.

Ironically, AF beer makes me feel gassy and bloated, so I naturally stop.What a concept…

These days, I drink it socially, but rarely at home.

Don’t beat yourself up if you slip

I haven’t had a slip — that still shocks me.But I pre-planned for the possibility.

Three weeks in, I faced my ultimate trigger: a rainy three-day camping trip.

Campfires + rain + old mates = drunk David. Always.

AF beers packed, but honestly? I didn’t see how I’d make it through.

So I made peace with myself before the trip:“If I slip, it’s a hiccup — not a failure.”

Weirdly, giving myself permission took the pressure off.

And guess what?I didn’t drink.Not once — despite biblical levels of rain.

That mindset was a turning point:The challenge doesn’t reset unless you want it to.

Fast-forward to today

This weekend was another 40th birthday. No kids this time — a full-blown “big one”.

Did I feel weird not drinking?

Nope.I had a great night, cleared out the bar’s entire AF stock, then drove home.

This morning?I smashed a 10-mile PB through Kingston-Upon-Thames — where I met the same friends I was out with last night.

And as I ran, I smiled knowing they were all suffering while I felt incredible.

That, my friends, is what alcohol-free feels like.

You can follow David on Twitter: @therealmrtrihardor on his blog: trytotrihard.blogspot.co.uk