Why I’m Looking Forward to Dry January

My last Dry January was not entirely voluntary. It was 2021 and my health had just mysteriously deteriorated, resulting in two strokes and vision loss in my right eye. “Can I have another drink?” I asked my neurosurgeon before I left the hospital. “Only good things,” he laughed, and I happily agreed.

That December, the morning after a holiday party, I looked in the mirror and barely recognized the person looking back at me. My eye is almost completely swollen. I pressed the lids of cold soda cans to relieve the constant throbbing pain. It's all my fault I thought to myself, remembering yesterday's champagne toast. A quick Google search for “alcohol and inflammation” ended up making my guilt worse.

In hindsight, my untimely flare-up, having just undergone major surgery, was most likely caused by an infection or a post-op complication (later resolved with long-term intravenous antibiotics). However, this health scare led me to a three-year period of complete sobriety from alcohol. “This is what I needed to do,” I told myself. I had no choice.

“I’m sober, but I hate it,” was how I used to describe my situation to 23-year-olds who couldn’t understand why I didn’t drink a $5 vodka Red Bull at the local joint. They gave me a pass, but only with difficulty, sometimes asking in more detail to make sure that I really couldn’t drink. For some of them, not wanting to use was simply not a good enough reason to stop.

In 2024 I had another serious attack, only this time I had been sober for years. I started drinking again in 2025, resentful that all my hard work and self-control didn't cure me completely. But the truth is that I missed the feeling that sobriety gave me. Sure, it was nice to have a beer on the beach, but I started to notice spikes and dips in my anxiety. my sleep scheduleand inconsistencies in my fitness program.

I knew I could stop drinking again at any time. But having been sober before, I also knew how difficult it was to explain why I wanted to stop drinking. . . especially in the middle of the year. “You should never feel the need to justify yourself to anyone,” you tell me (and I would be inclined to agree). But I still feel it when my mom uncorks her last bottle of Pinot, or my co-workers ask for my happy hour order, or my Hinge partner wonders why I don't want to go out drinking this weekend.

I've dealt with scenarios like this before and would happily do it again. But Dry January is a great opportunity to quit drinking without facing the usual social pressures. Because, honestly, giving up alcohol has never been easy for me, and it's nice to do it without added stress.

During the three years without alcohol, there were still difficult moments. I felt more awkward around new friends, bored in bars and tired on the dance floor. But I also never had a moment anxietyI adjusted my sleep schedule, exceeded my fitness goals, and devoted time to hobbies that brought me joy, like video editing and scrapbooking. I felt strong, stable, and in control—qualities I needed to stay afloat with chronic illness.

This year, almost a week sober, I'm glad to give up alcohol because I genuinely want to feel better, not because I feel like I should. I seriously doubt my journey will be over in a month, but I am grateful to Dry January for giving me the push I needed to dive back. . . this time with enthusiasm.

Chandler Plante (she/her) is a social producer and staff writer for the health and fitness department at Popsugar. She has over five years of experience in the industry, having previously worked as an assistant editor at People magazine, social media manager at Millie magazine and a contributor at Bustle Digital Group. She earned a degree in magazine journalism from Syracuse University and lives in Los Angeles.