Why “Sober Curious” Isn’t Enough - If You've Crossed the Line

For women who feel something’s off—but don’t want to say it out loud yet.

I was in a podcasting class recently—one of those casual, creative meetups where people go around sharing ideas. When it was my turn, I mentioned that I’d be starting a podcast soon: Voices of Women in Recovery. I explained that because of the nature of addiction and anonymity, many of my guests may choose not to appear on camera. Especially those in early recovery.

That’s when a bright-eyed millennial chimed in.

She said, in the confident tone of someone who’d just learned something on TikTok,

“Oh! You don’t have to worry about that. Sober curious is such a trend now. People are proud of it.”

And for a moment, I froze. Because I wasn’t talking about a trend. I was talking about women who were dying.

I smiled politely, but what I wanted to say was this:

"There’s a world of difference between being sober curious and being sober serious."

Sober curiosity is a beautiful thing—I’m glad the culture is shifting. I love that more women are questioning their relationship with alcohol. That’s a powerful and necessary first step.

But for many of us, it’s not a curiosity.It’s a lifeline.

Before Sober Curiosity, There Was Sober Desperation

I want to be clear: I’m not against the sober curious movement. It’s about mindfulness—asking why you drink or whether you need to drink at all. And if that had existed when I was in college or my twenties, maybe I wouldn’t have crossed the line.

But back then? I wasn’t questioning anything.

I started drinking in college and loved everything about it—the ritual, the rebellion, the way it made me feel bold. I spent most weekends at the campus pub, playing "quarters" and practically living there.

One night, already tipsy, I grabbed a red solo cup from the kitchen counter at a party and chugged what I thought was lemonade.

It was 100% grain alcohol mixed with powdered lemonade. No water. No dilution. Just poison in a cup.

The next morning, I woke up in my bed feeling like hell, still dressed, not remembering how I got home. My roommates told me their boyfriends carried me home, fireman-style. I had blacked out completely.

I could have died that night.

Did I get sober curious? No. I was back at the pub the next weekend.

Later, when I tried to stop drinking, I wasn’t experimenting—I was desperate.I tried hypnosis. Dry January. Willpower.

I wasn’t “curious.” I was terrified.I didn’t know I had become addicted—or that my brain and body had changed.

Like I wrote in my blog: Why Can't I Drink Like a Normal Person?,

"Once you’re a pickle, you can’t go back to being a cucumber."

But if sober curiosity had been around earlier, maybe I wouldn’t have become a pickle in the first place. This movement plants seeds before the denial, the destruction, the shame.

According to Harvard Public Health, this shift is real. Researcher Katie Witkiewitz calls it:

“A great sea change in our culture—from glamorizing heavy drinking to celebrating reductions.....Any reductions in drinking are associated with improvements in health and functioning.”

That’s good news.It means fewer women may have to walk the road I did.

Sober Curious Is a Lifestyle. Addiction Is a Disease.

And yet—there’s danger in blurring the line.

Some women are using the label “sober curious” as a smokescreen for something much deeper.

When you're pouring wine into a coffee mug so no one sees—it’s not curiosity. When you're Googling “Am I an alcoholic?” at 2 a.m.—it’s not curiosity. When you're negotiating with yourself—“Just two tonight, I swear”—that’s not curiosity either.

That’s something else.That’s the line.And it doesn’t announce itself when you cross it. .

The Line Between Curiosity and Consequences

Let’s be honest.

Alcohol use disorder isn’t some dramatic movie meltdown. It can look “high functioning.” It can look like yoga class, PTA meetings, a big career, or Whole Foods runs.

I thought I was high-functioning. I had a job. I was a Rotarian. I was even in the Chamber of Commerce.

A friend once told his therapist he was a high-functioning alcoholic because he had a 20-year career. The therapist said:

“You weren’t high-functioning. You were just a drunk with a job.”

We say things like:

“I just need a break.”“ I’m not that bad.” “I don’t drink every day.”

But those thoughts—especially when paired with shame, secrecy, and self-negotiation—are often the first signs that the line has already been crossed.

You Don’t Need a New Label—You Need the Truth

That moment in the podcast class stuck with me. That sweet young woman thought sobriety was a trend.nBut for many of us, it’s not about mocktails and clean eating.

It’s about detox. It’s about trauma. It’s about rebuilding. It’s about choosing life—over and over again.

So call it what you want—gray area drinking, wine mom culture, high-functioning alcoholism.

What matters is what it’s costing you.

Let’s think about that for a second:

• Your peace of mind?

• Your sleep?

• Your self-respect?

• Your emotional presence—for your kids, your work, your own damn soul?

  
  

So, what’s it costing you?

If you’re afraid of the answer—that’s your invitation.

You Don’t Need to Hit Bottom. You Just Need to Begin.

You don’t need to fall apart to change.

You just need to get honest.

If you’re waking up at 3 a.m. thinking,

“Maybe I need help…”—that is your moment.

The life waiting on the other side of alcohol isn’t sterile or boring or lesser.

It’s vivid. Expansive. Unfiltered. Full.

You don’t need more curiosity. You need clarity.

You’re not broken. You’re waking up. And you’re not alone.

—

Karen 💜A woman who crossed the line—and finally stopped dancing around it.