The Things No One Talks About…
A Highly Relatable Reflection at 9 Months Sober
Sobriety gets talked about like a glow-up. A transformation. A before-and-after story with perfect lighting and filtered clarity.
But no one talks about the middle.
The gray space.
The identity shift.
The “why does everything feel so weird?” stage where you’re rebuilding your life, your patterns, your relationships… and your entire sense of self in real time.
I don’t know if it’s because I truly was an alcoholic (I don’t identify with that label, but alcohol absolutely wrecked my life in ways I’m still unpacking), or if it’s because we live in a society where every single thing is centered around drinking…
But there is a LOT to navigate in this new version of me.
And almost none of it is discussed openly.
So I’m discussing it.
The Comments That Stick With You
When you stop drinking, you get all kinds of feedback you never asked for:
“Don’t be like that.”
…when I say something just isn’t my vibe anymore.
“You look radiant.”
…said by someone who has no idea how much pain and work live behind that glow.
“I don’t know how you’re doing this.”
…about being out on Blackout Wednesday, the biggest drinking night of the year.
And then there was Vegas.
On my first alcohol-free trip to Vegas, I won on a slot machine at the airport. While signing the paperwork, the attendant looked at my signature, right after I told her this was my first time sober in Vegas in over 10+ trips here, she said:
“Well, that looks like a signature of someone drunk.”
Her tone? Nasty AF.
Her assumption? Instant.
And it hurt more than I expected.
I had been drinking NA beers in the airport… maybe she smelled it.
Maybe she didn’t believe me.
Either way, it crushed me.
No one tells you about that part of sobriety.
The Identity Shift You Don’t See Coming
In sobriety:
Things that should be easy feel difficult.
Things that used to be difficult suddenly feel easier.
Being social now feels like being dropped into the wilderness… overstimulating, uncomfortable, too loud, too much.
It’s exhausting trying to operate in a world that no longer aligns with who I’m becoming.
And yet, there’s a pull to stay connected to parts of the old me that I truly loved.
I get scared sometimes that the people I care about won’t understand the changes I need to make.
That if I don’t compromise, they’ll want the old Brittany back, the girl who could drink, rally, socialize endlessly, and never say no.
But as Taylor Swift says:
“Sorry, the old me can’t come to the phone right now… because she’s dead.”
And honestly?
I love that part of me is “dead.”
I love that she’s not coming back.
She was exhausted.
She was hurting.
And she was living a life I no longer want.
If you want to walk with me into this new chapter, you’re welcome to.
But the terms have changed.
The Tug-of-War That No One Talks About
Sometimes I feel like the knot in a tug-of-war rope… old me pulling on one side, new me pulling on the other.
If the old me lets go, I win.
If the new me pulls harder, I win.
Either way, going backward is not an option.
The real question is:
Who is helping pull me forward…
and who is holding me in the past?
That’s where sobriety gets lonely.
Really lonely.
People can support you and still not understand you.
People can cheer for you and still want you to fit into the old patterns.
People can love you and still not get why everything, from nights out to holidays, feels different now.
No one tells you about that part either.
The Peace (and “Lazy AF” Era)
I’m in my peaceful era.
My Bravo-on-the-couch era.
My Wynk’s-THC-Drink-with-Sunday-football era.
And from the outside?
It probably looks lazy AF.
But it’s peace.
It’s rest.
It’s healing.
It’s me choosing comfort over chaos, quiet over white noise, safety over pretending.
“Don’t be like that” was followed by:
“What, are you going to become a recluse?”
MAYBE.
For now, maybe yes.
Because bars feel like chaos.
Random nights out feel like chaos.
Forced socializing feels like chaos.
And sobriety has taught me that unnecessary chaos is optional.
I still love to travel.
Still love concerts.
Still love adventures.
Still love cozy nights with friends and their kids.
Still love an intentional date night here and there.
But the random, “let’s go out for no reason” nights?
No thank you.
They don’t serve me anymore.
Feeling Your Feelings (Like… All of Them)
Alcohol numbs everything.
Which, for a long time, feels like the point.
But once you go alcohol-free?
Holy shit… feelings.
Real ones.
Strong ones.
Unexpected ones.
Ones you never slowed down enough to understand.
The good news?
Without hangxiety, you can actually process them.
The bad news?
You still have to process them.
It’s messy, awkward, and sometimes overwhelming…
but it’s also unbelievably freeing.
Relationships & Sobriety: The Conversations No One Is Having
This might be the hardest part to talk about.
I’ve been with my partner, Colin, for nearly 13 years.
We’re not married.
And I am not the same woman I was back then.
He didn’t sign up for this version of me.
But he also struggled with who I was when I was drinking.
It’s complicated.
It’s scary.
It’s honest.
He still wants the same social life, just me without the alcohol.
But that version of me doesn’t exist anymore.
We chose not to have children so we could travel, explore, see concerts, experience the world.
And that part of me hasn’t changed.
I still want adventure.
I still want music.
I still want travel.
But the bar scene?
The forced socializing?
The chaotic nights out?
I’m done with that part.
So we’re navigating this together, day by day.
Fine-tuning a relationship without the version of me that he used to know…
and without a version of me that I no longer want to be.
No one tells you how hard that part is.
How deeply sobriety changes your relationships… even the strongest ones.
Nine Months Alcohol-Free
Yesterday — December 8, 2025 — I hit 9 months alcohol-free.
I don’t have it all figured out.
I’m still learning.
Some days still suck.
Some days feel heavier than they should.
But the next day is always clearer, calmer, softer…
in a way drinking days never were.
I know I’ll have more to share as months turn into years.
But for the first time in a long time, I’m excited for the future.
Really excited.
And if any piece of this feels familiar to you, if it makes you exhale, if it makes you feel seen…
you’re not alone.
Welcome to the Highly Relatable crew.
We navigate this messy middle together.
XOXO, Brittany Jo