'I never thought I had a problem with drinking, until I tried to stop.'

I've never considered myself a "drinker". Sure, I'd have a glass of wine at restaurants, maybe a bottle if we're having a good time. And yes, I love a party and the only way I could keep myself awake and fresh was if I had a vodka soda in my hand at all times.

If I had brunch with the girls the next day, I was impartial to a bloody mary to help with the hangover. And of course, a glass of champagne at celebrations, birthdays, weddings and promotions. Speaking of promotions, I HAD to have a drink at work events — I couldn't be seen not fitting in with the crowd.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

I never thought I had a problem with drinking because there were things I didn't do that made me feel like I didn't fit into the "drinker" category. I never drank alone. I didn't keep any alcohol at home. I could easily say no to a drink when I was on my period because I knew the effects would linger much too long. If I was hungover, I wouldn't drink for at least a week.

When I did drink though, it was rarely just one. It was always two or three or six.

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I was the friend who'd roll my eyes at people who "couldn't handle their alcohol". The ones who'd have two drinks and call it a night, or worse, the ones who'd nurse a single glass of wine for an entire evening. How boring, right? How painfully, embarrassingly boring.

I didn't think I had a problem with drinking until I woke up on my bathroom floor after a work event when I was 26.

I didn't think I had a problem with drinking until I was so hungover on my 27th birthday that my fun girls' trip away was spent with my friends having to feed me bacon on the couch.

I didn't think I had a problem with drinking until I told a guy I was dating that I didn't think we'd work out because he didn't drink, and I'd never been on a sober date before.

I didn't think I had a problem with drinking until I decided to quit for a period of time.

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When my workplace said they were putting together a team for Dry July to raise funds for cancer services, without blinking, I put my hand up to join. We have a great team of Dry July-ers here at Mamamia, and we're lucky that our company is in full support of our sober period. The office fridges are stocked with non-alcoholic options like Posca Hydrate.

How hard could it be? I'm not a drinker, so this would be a walk in the park. I was two days in when I called a friend and said, "I think I'm going to step down." She said, "I don't think you can, you've already raised over $1000."

Sh*t.

We're now close to the halfway mark and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't struggling.

I had a small, fancy long lunch to celebrate a friend's birthday, and I was the only person who didn't drink. I felt left out. I had dinner with a family member and caught myself staring (and slightly) drooling over her glass of Riesling.

The thing is, I have many friends who choose not to drink, and I'm meeting more and more people who have chosen this path. I've also noticed that non-alcoholic options in bars and restaurants have skyrocketed in the past few years, so I assumed that doing Dry July in 2025 would be a walk in the park.

Wrong.

While my friends are sipping their crisp wine, I'm drinking some sort of fruit juice in a tall glass with a flaccid, soggy paper straw.

I was so ignorant to the fact that there STILL is such a stigma towards people who choose not to drink. The sideways glances when you say "I'm not drinking tonight", the "Oh come on, just one" comments, the way conversations seem to shift when you're holding a lemon lime and bitters instead of a proper drink.

It's wild how much our social culture revolves around alcohol. Every celebration, every commiseration, every day of the week that ends in 'y'. I never realised how much of my social identity was tied to drinking until I... wasn't.

Not drinking for a month has proven to be one of the most difficult initiatives I've taken on, but I'm proud that it's something I've been able to manage (so far). The clarity is confronting — both literally and figuratively. My skin looks better, I sleep better, and I'm forced to actually engage in conversations rather than just wait for my next drink.

But the hardest part? Realising that maybe I was one of those people who couldn't handle their alcohol after all. Maybe rolling my eyes at people who knew their limits was just my way of avoiding the uncomfortable truth that I didn't have any.

If you've ever thought about quitting drinking for a period of time, I recommend you give it a go. If the idea of doing such a thing freaks you out, maybe ask yourself why that is. Because if you're anything like me, the answer might be more revealing than you'd like to admit.

If you have the means, we would love your support. All donations go to Dry July, raising money for cancer services.

If you want more from Emily Vernem, you can follow her on Instagram @emilyvernem.

Feature image: Supplied.